Bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams White woman that passion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, And with heart more old than the horn That is brimmed from the pale fire of time: White woman with numberless dreams, I bring you my passionate rhyme.
W.B. Yeats, "A Poet to His Beloved", in The Wind Among the Reeds
Bring you with reverent hands
ResponderEliminarThe books of my numberless dreams
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams,
I bring you my passionate rhyme.
W.B. Yeats, "A Poet to His Beloved", in The Wind Among the Reeds
Uma categoria! :)
ResponderEliminar