Ética vem de berço ,os éticos passam para os seus filhos igual um virus ela se propaga e contamina a todos ! contamine-se .
domingo, 7 de julho de 2013
The love and the four seasons
Acold wintermorninghe says heloves me. Thecold of wintercanwarmevery heartin the world. Nothingmade senseto me,I could hearmy heartbeatingfastwhen you seethe image ofangelic being. I realized I wasin lovewhen I feltthat emotionwas more thanreason My visionbecameblind,my linewent dead,my mouthdryandmy senseswere no longernormal. It would bepossible toa womanso beautifulandso specialto lovesomeone whocould offernothingexcept thebody and soulfor her. Onan autumn afternoonshe said sheloves me. Butthe change of seasonmakesheartsbecome moresensitive I think I'lllive anotherminute ofthisglory,my soulno longer responds,looks like I'mrunning awayfrom my body. It would just bea dreamof a madmanorwouldjustlovethe thrill of beingloved bya goddessvenus.
Inan afternoonblossomspringshesays she loves me. Butspringisall heartsbecome proneto love the beauty of flowersislike apostcardto anyone who lovesand one moretimetoquestionmy reasonisshethe goddessof dreamsofany mortalwas myreal Onesummer nightshe says sheloves me.
The sunand itsheatdoes not shineas much asthe lookof my beloved At this timemy reasontoquestionmy emotion,will bethat she loves meor is it justa loveof stations