emmajane16.1775
1955
To the poem I entrust the sorrow of losing you.
I have to wash my eyes of your blues,
headlights that prolonged my shipwreck.
I have to take my undone life in your hands,
slight wisp of fog
that the wind between its ephemeral wings scatters.
Return the night to me, mute and eternal,
of the private dialogue of dreaming of you,
indifferent to one day
that must find us foreign and distant.
by Salvador Novo
~ Perpetuity ~ www.flickr.com/groups/perpetuity/, Envylicious (124, 140, 24) - Adulto
1955
To the poem I entrust the sorrow of losing you.
I have to wash my eyes of your blues,
headlights that prolonged my shipwreck.
I have to take my undone life in your hands,
slight wisp of fog
that the wind between its ephemeral wings scatters.
Return the night to me, mute and eternal,
of the private dialogue of dreaming of you,
indifferent to one day
that must find us foreign and distant.
by Salvador Novo
~ Perpetuity ~ www.flickr.com/groups/perpetuity/, Envylicious (124, 140, 24) - Adulto