quarta-feira, 28 de abril de 2021


De luva azul, já que não tenho sangue azul 😊, na Biblioteca Nacional.

Mas sem intuitos destruidores. E sob o signo de Frost.

Fragmentary Blue

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)—
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

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