Descubra os temas, a história e o sentimento por detrás desta canção.
One morning, before the leaves began changing | I caught a piece of summer and poured it into a pitcher; | This I placed in the cellar on a shelf col…
One morning, before the leaves began changing I caught a piece of summer and poured it into a pitcher; This I placed in the cellar on a shelf collecting dust . Autumn, then winter, rose up from the sea, and my Garden was a garden filled with unbroken snow. No flower strained its face to the ice giants' whisper, No life coloured the vision of a newborn Spring babe. My cellar-water dripping into a pail And I lifted my piece of summer Like a piece of memory or a dream Like these, caught on film And carried it to the garden floes, The wind turning drifting stars to madness. Poured forth gracefully, this ætheric tincture Lifts winter's coat-of-arms with coaxing aromas and electricity. Used with vigilance, a Pitcher of Summer stirs a memory into swooning, And bravely, the flowers of the past will stretch their limbs into the sky While snow falls quietly all around.
Ainda sem faixas semelhantes.
