Liberdade de Expressão

sábado, setembro 13, 2003

 

Autopsychography

The poet is a fake.
His faking seems so real
That he will fake the ache
Which he can really feel.

And those who read his cries
Feel in the paper tears
Not two aches that are his
But one that is not theirs.

And so in its ring
Giving the mind a game
Goes this train on a string
And the heart is its name.

— Keith Bosley (tradutor)

JoaoMiranda 6:10 da tarde