I'll tiptoe
whenever my feelings
tiptoe me to go.
I'll knee and pick up
a flower of tiptoed colours.
The tulips will break,
and their redish colours
and their redish colours
shall tiptoe upstream.
The garden,
the moonlight,
will flourish,
whenever I tiptoe
chasing you
through the bushes
of mystery,
of wonder.
(inspirado num poema de Al Dubin/Joe Burke em moriana2)
(imagem retirada da net)
tenta ouvir o poema, cantado por Rita Braga...
ResponderEliminar:)
bj.