blogue atlântico

You will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impestuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,
You will pose with a hill-flower grace.

You will come, eith your slim, expressive arms,
A poise of the head no sculptor has caught
And nuances spoken with shouder and neck,
Your face in a pass-and-repass of moods
As many as skies in delicate change
Of cloud and blue and flimmering sun.

Yet,

You may not come, O girl of a dream,
we may but pass as the world goes by
And take from a look of eyes into eyes,
A film of hope and memoried day.

Dream Girl, Carl Sandburg - Chicago Poems