it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be, i say if this should be-
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.

Autor: E.E. Cummings

it may not always be so; and i say<br />that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch<br />another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch<br />his heart, as mine in time not far away;<br />if on another's face your sweet hair lay<br />in such a silence as i know,or such<br />great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,<br />stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;<br /> <br />if this should be, i say if this should be-<br />you of my heart, send me a little word;<br />that i may go unto him, and take his hands,<br />saying, Accept all happiness from me.<br />Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird<br />sing terribly afar in the lost lands. - E.E. Cummings




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