Peixos
…des del 27 de febrer de 1961, sense reeixir-me massa a respirar aquest aire enrarit que teniu a la superfície.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil,
this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and
their parents the same,
I, now fourty-eight years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
7 comentaris :
Ground control to peixos: per molts anys!
(I eixe poema in inglis pitinglis?)
God save the fish. And happy birthday, my young smoker.
Thank you, friends. El poema és un copypaste del Song of my self, de Whitman.
Mira´l, és n´Apollinaire, viu a sa peixera,
neda i surt a respirar s´aire de ca teva...
Mooooltíssimes felicitats!
I aquàtiques.
La millor companyia.
Amfitrions excel•lents.
Taula de luxe.
Festa inoblidable.
No exagere.
God save Walt Whitman.Congratulations, pisces!!
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