The Garden of Love


















I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore;
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briers my joys and desires.


William Blake
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Coqueiral

A saudade é um batimento que rebenta assim vinte e oito vezes desde meu ombro tatuado de desastre até à rosa pendur...