My love
it does not understand of measures,
nor of distance none
Not even it knows
the cloud
that of so hing,
it is not perfumed.
It does not know to keep
secrets,
it does not understand of fears,
it does not fear the absences
and therefore,
it does not agonize, lost,
in the sad nights of the street.
My love
he is entire
while it is divided
Off there you distress it does not understand
nor of pains
or of sadness some.
Jessiely Soares
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário