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31 agosto 2007 ore 00.03
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
yet knows its boughs more silent than before.
I cannot say what loves have come and gone.
I only know that summer sang in me a little while,
that in me sings no more.
8056281
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
yet knows its boughs more silent than before.
I cannot say what loves have come and...
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31/08/2007 0.03.59
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