20 outubro, 2009

Num dia de Chuva...


Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd

OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently
to me,
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel'd a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look'd on you,
For I fear'd I might afterward lose you .

Leaves of Grass (1867), Walt Whitman

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