Apple orchards, the trees all cover’d with blossoms;
Wheat fields carpeted far and near in vital
emerald green;
The eternal, exhaustless freshness of each
early morning;
The yellow, golden, transparent haze of the warm
afternoon sun;
The aspiring lilac bushes with profuse purple
or white flowers.
Walt Whitman
terça-feira, 8 de junho de 2010
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