My Pen, Português, Verse

ampulheta

Parece lenta por ser imensa a torrente que passa pela ampulheta. Devia entupir ou emitir sinal de alarme ao ver passar versos repetidos ou rimas pirosas. Ouve a areia, diz ela, não queres a tua âmbola cheia de poemas menores.

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English, My Pen, My Pencil

Some are Born to sweet delight

Some are Born to Endless Night. – William Blake, ‘Auguries of Innocence’ I bought this album over 10 years ago, on my birthday. It was terribly overpriced – probably with the excuse of being an indie import from a faraway country – but I felt so happy to see a Hawksley Workman record in a […]

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