Bird sighs for the air,Thought for I know not where,For the womb the seed sighs.Now sinks the same restOn mind, on nest,On straining thighs.W.B. Yeats, The Lover's Song
Una rosa bianca ed un club sandwich
Bird sighs for the air,Thought for I know not where,For the womb the seed sighs.Now sinks the same restOn mind, on nest,On straining thighs.W.B. Yeats, The Lover's Song