A snowy path for squirrel and fox,
It winds between the wintry firs.
Snow-muffled are its iron rocks,
And o'er its stillness nothing stirs.
But low, bend low a listening ear!
Beneath the mask of moveless white
A babbling whisper you shall hear—
Of birds and blossoms, leaves and light.
Poema "The Brook in February", da autoria de Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Que bom ter te de volta :)
ResponderEliminarmiss u :)
Que bom ter te de volta :)
ResponderEliminarTraduzi e gostei ...
ResponderEliminar