<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474179" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>winter Algarve</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Winter Algarve. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hills in the vale are stony and grey except where <br>they have made a road up to a new house that looks <br>shiny and bright for now, but will in time when paint<br>fades look as it belongs. “That old house you see up <br>there was built in 2009, ” a tourist guide will say. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Northerly flies low and cold today olive trees <br>look silvery as big gorillas standing still contemplating <br>a sky that has white, billowing clouds sailing across; <br>a regatta were no one drowns and the winner turns <br>into a miasma and never seen again </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stones on the old wall look like grey skulls with <br>holes in like another war mass grave found in Poland.<br>Everything dies and lives, the grass is green and tiny <br>Flowers grow out of weed, paradise for wooly backs, <br>but not for those- the human ones- from St. Helens. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The vines in black soil look like dead soldiers held up <br>by wire, not a hint of jollity to come. My wintery vale, <br>winds gets cold my face is as frozen as a newscaster’s <br>botoxed face, but since I need not look young I hurry <br>home to thaw it into familiar wrinkles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474179" data-title="Winter Algarve de Oskar Hansen" data-description="Winter Algarve. The hills in the vale are stony and grey except where they have made a road up to a new house that looks shiny and bright for now, but will in time when paint fades look as it belongs. “That old house you see up there was ..."></div> </div> </div>

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