Como hoy me va que ni pintado, y en más de un sentido, vuelvo a anotarme este poema de Edgar Lee Masters titulado Tomorrow is my Birthday (1918)
Good friends, let’s to the fields…
After a little walk and by your pardon,
I think I’ll sleep, there is no sweeter thing.
Nor fate more blessed than to sleep.
I am a dream out of a blessed sleep.
Let’s walk, and hear the lark.
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