...M'ESPANTO ÀS VEZES , OUTRAS M'AVERGONHO ...
(Sá de Miranda)
EARLY MORNING BLOGS
2161 - On Fields Oer Which the Reaper's Hand Has Passd
On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.
(Henry David Thoreau)
© José Pacheco Pereira