sábado, 24 de septiembre de 2016

My joy and my sorrow...

My joy and my sorrow do not sing:
They quietly pour into themselves
with sweet, misty rumor.
My joy and my sorrow do not speak:
They crouch in a corner of the soul, 
smile and sigh.
My joy and my sorrow don't burst out:
They implode... 
Then they grow in a spot of green and humid land. 

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