<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=492888" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Shoulders Support The World</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There comes a time when we no longer say: my God.<br>A time of absolute purity.<br>A time when we no longer say: my love.<br>Because love proved useless.<br>And eyes don’t cry.<br>And hands only weave in rough work.<br>And the heart is dry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Women knock at the door in vain, don’t open it.<br>You stay alone, the light goes out, <br>and in the dark your eyes glow enormous.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">-Carlos Drummond De Andrade<br>translated from the Portuguese by Len Sousa</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You’re convinced, you no longer know suffering.<br>And you expect nothing from friends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old age matters little, what is old age? <br>Your shoulders support the world<br>and it weighs no more than a child’s hand.<br>The wars, famines, and talks in buildings<br>only prove that life goes on<br>and not all have freed themselves yet.<br>Some, finding the spectacle barbarous, <br>prefer (the delicates) to die.<br>There comes a time when there’s no point in dying.<br>There comes a time when life is an order.<br>Merely life, without perplexity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</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=492888" data-title="Shoulders Support The World de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="There comes a time when we no longer say: my God. A time of absolute purity. A time when we no longer say: my love. Because love proved useless. And eyes don’t cry. And hands only weave in rough work. And the heart is dry. Women knock at the do..."></div> </div> </div>

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