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Folha em Branco

Folha em Branco

Qua | 18.07.12

Saudade

Pantapuff
You whisper it with your heart and mine replies the same sad song about the Portuguese word you can’t pronounce, the ancient meaning you can’t translate. And yet, my sailor, you whisper it to me. Tears of joy and sighs of pain cross the oceans to meet its pair. The parted souls, fragile yet strong wait for their bodies to meet in a slow passionate kiss so the Portuguese word will cease to exist. The ancient now new became what I feel for you. It’s more than a simple “I miss (...)