Quentin Blake no Hay Festival, desenhando "a coisa mais estranha e íntima de todas", aqui.
img. daqui
Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understood each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings, And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed. Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets, And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow, Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . . How did it go? How did it go? Shel Silverstein img. Gustavo Aimar |