sábado, 19 de dezembro de 2009

P de (Um Ano de) Pássaros (IV)

DECEMBER

When the dark hawberries hang down and drip like blood
And the old man’s beard has climbed up high in the wood
And the golden bracken has been broken by the snows
And Jesus Christ has come again to heal and pardon,
Then the little robin follows me through the garden,
In the dark days his breast like a rose.

Iris Murdoch

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