Consolo Os dias estão quentes, mas pesados. Restam algumas palavras que refrescam. I cannot grow; I have no shadow To run away from, I only play. I cannot err; There is no creature Whom I belong to, Whom I could wrong. I am defeat When it knows it Can now do nothing By suffering. All you lived through, Dancing because you No longer need it For any deed. I shall never be Different. Love me. excerto de Song for St. Cecilia's Day, de W. A. Auden. AmAtA --------