Birds of winter came to my window
They leave the spring like a widow
And yellow trees of desires
They make all my fires
They don’t know any song
They fly all alone
Their flying is sign
And they fall in my window as a sigh.
They leave the spring like a widow
And yellow trees of desires
They make all my fires
They don’t know any song
They fly all alone
Their flying is sign
And they fall in my window as a sigh.
Photo: Arrepiada - Maria Isabel Batista (olhares.aeiou.pt)
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