domingo, fevereiro 21, 2010


When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

4 comentários:

  1. Anónimo23.2.10

    So romantic!!!
    We think a lot of you two. Barroso is cute. Next August Peter and I would be first at Cologne, the 12th, and than we met with you in Munich.
    Jane A.

  2. Anónimo4.3.10

    Maria Virgínia
    Quem me dera ser homem e casar contigo!!!
    Venho cá espreitar as tuas escolhas e os teus dizeres. O Barroso tem o trevo das 4 folhas.

  3. Jane
    It would be marvellous!

  4. Palmira
    Noutra encarnação, minha linda. Nesta nem penses, acho-te bonita mas gosto mais do Daniel Craig.

    Obrigada pela metáfora, sorte é ter-te como amiga.