Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.








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flickr
I
--
"…a to wszystko się dzieje, jakby działo się w śnie,
a zarazem istniało poza snem jednocześnie..."
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"Illusion never changed into something real. ."
...Thats it!! no stupid rules!...
--
Soon You Won't...
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Then am I,a happy fly,if I live,or if I die.
--
MOTH ART - Marta Bevacqua photos.
personal website: [link]
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