The sky, pounding, in an endless whisper, each drop colored with shade, filled with cobalt shadows, ready for the horizon. Send your eyes forth, ofty blooms stretching, they sing of returning, the night tunes of care.
- Vicente Aleixandre
The sky, pounding, in an endless whisper, each drop colored with shade, filled with cobalt shadows, ready for the horizon. Send your eyes forth, ofty blooms stretching, they sing of returning, the night tunes of care.