| Domingo, 31 de enero de 2010 Do not let me look at the moon or slow the tree dry winter prohibit me light the fire, play to sleep with ash, not mean that this lost that pure love with my eyes and my hands and forge forged for other eyes, to other hands. expiring Love is not love. True love belongs all the time, the whole earth, fearlessly faced storms, resists to the edge of death and, like nature, is eternal. |
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| Che non mi lascino e nemmeno l'albero dried up for the slow winter that forbids me to light a fire to dream and play with ash does not mean you lost THAT 'pure love that with my own eyes and with my hands and I have forged forged for other eyes, to other hands. Love is not love which breathes. True love belongs all the time, the whole earth, fearlessly tackles storms, withstand even the wire of death and is, like nature, eternal. |
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