I cannot write -I cannot speak or think-
Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling,
This standing motionless upon the golden
Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams,
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,
And thrilling as I see, upon the right,
Upon the left, and all the way along,
Amid empurpled vapors, far away
To where the prospect terminates -thee only.
Edgar Allan Poe.
Pues...
ReplyDelete1. Amo a Poe con toda mi alma.
2. No me acostumbro a ver aVril, aunque sepa que es francés.
3. I miss you.
Poe.. de mis favoritoos!!
ReplyDelete