Fer:
Acho que nunca vi a flor, porém me lembrei das aulas de Literatura Inglesa em meus tempos de Puccamp…..
I WANDER’D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed — and gazed — but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
Fer , não conheço a flor , nem seu cheiro , mas nas fotos elas são tão lindas …….Tão delicadas …
Pena que pelo visto não da para chegar muito perto!
grande beijo
Fiz Letras na Puc do Rio! E amava aulas de Literatura Inglesa!
Fer:
Acho que nunca vi a flor, porém me lembrei das aulas de Literatura Inglesa em meus tempos de Puccamp…..
I WANDER’D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed — and gazed — but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
Fer , não conheço a flor , nem seu cheiro , mas nas fotos elas são tão lindas …….Tão delicadas …
Pena que pelo visto não da para chegar muito perto!
grande beijo
Acho o cheiro do jasmim cafona!Desse menino aí é parecido é??