Dedicação Especial

Menos pela comemoração, muito mais pelo significado. Dedicado a uma, mais duas, mais uma, mais muitas ... mulheres. Nem tem como deixar de reconhecer. Ingratidão - longe de mim!

Às mulheres devemos muito, muito mesmo!

Uma grande poetisa, com um grande poema - nada mais certo do que a força que a Rosa emana - pra esse dia, pra vida de um homem, pra homenagear quem maisque merece muito mais que poesia! Fui buscar lá no fundo do baú, Isabella Valancy Crawford - a Rosa (não achei tradução - aceito ajuda):

The Rose was given to man for this:
He, sudden seeing it in later years,
Should swift remember Love’s first lingering kiss
And Grief’s last lingering tears;

Or, being blind, should feel its yearning soul
Knit all its piercing perfume round his own,
Till he should see on memory’s ample scroll
All roses he had known;

Or, being hard, perchance his finger-tips
Careless might touch the satin of its cup,
And he should feel a dead babe’s budding lips
To his lips lifted up;

Or, being deaf and smitten with its star,
Should, on a sudden, almost hear a lark
Rush singing up—the nightingale afar
Sing thro’ the dew-bright dark;

Or, sorrow-lost in paths that round and round
Circle old graves, its keen and vital breath
Should call to him within the yew’s bleak bound
Of Life, and not of Death.

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