The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain-
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
Emily Dickinson
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The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain-
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
Emily Dickinson
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3_oNz6EpY4&p=D059A264DC12C10C&playnext=1&index=95
ResponderSuprimirPues sí, la pipa tiene joder, anónimo, qué jodío!
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