domingo, 3 de maio de 2009

Árvore és tu.

A Girl

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast--
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child -- so high -- you are,
And all this is folly to the world.

Bunny Lake Is Missing (Otto Preminger, 1965)

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