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viernes, 25 de abril de 2014

Y EL ÓBOLO BAJO LA LENGUA




        THE ALIEN


A petal drifted loose
From a great magnolia bloom,
Your face hung in the gloom,
Floating, white and close.

We seemed alone: but another
Bent o'er you with lips of flame,
Unknown, without a name,
Hated, and yet my brother.

Your one short moan of pain
Was an exorcising spell:
The devil flew back to hell;
We were alone again.


   Aldous Huxley