 | My feeling Who insists on devouring my feeling? I know and I never tire of talking While the forces under the moonlight As much as we try not to keep still The wind turns into suffering And the taste is suiting the palate Still you need more salt On how to be happy, sweet torment So after I sign my freedom At times when you said foolish Unexpected kiss I gave you, Ghosts of us prowling the room, A soul distracted now shut up Making law of the glee. RITA DE CASSIA TIRADENTES LOURES |
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