poema em inglês que tenha comparativo?
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O comparativo que eu achei é (Longer)tá no final do texto(ta no nono paragrafo de baixo pra cima)
The desolate land of T.S Elliot
April is the most cruel of the months, germinates Lilies of the dead earth, blend Memory and desire, enlivens Agonic roots with the spring rain. Winter covered us, enveloping The earth in snow disheveled, nourishing With dried tubers what still restores life. The summer; we are amazing, falling from Starnbergersee With a downpour. We stopped by the porches And in the sun we walked through the alleys of Hofgarten, We had coffee, and for an hour we talked. Big Russ Russel, Stamm 'aus Litauen, echt deutsch. When we were children, in the house of the archivist, My cousin, he invited me on a sleigh ride. And I was afraid. He said to me, Mary, Maria, hold on tight. And slope down the sides. In the mountains, there, where you feel free. I read a lot at night, and I travel south during the winter. What roots are these that take root, which branches grow In this stony filth? Son of the man, You can not say, or even appreciate, because you only know A bundle of fractured images, struck by the sun, And as dead trees no longer shelter you, nor does the song of crickets console you, And no rumor of water throbbing on the dry stone. Only A shadow weights beneath this scarlet rock. (Come to the shadow of this scarlet rock), And I'll show you something different From your shadow to walk behind you when dawn Or from your evening shadow to your rising encounter; I'm going to reveal to you what fear is in a handful of dust.
The desolate land of T.S Elliot
April is the most cruel of the months, germinates Lilies of the dead earth, blend Memory and desire, enlivens Agonic roots with the spring rain. Winter covered us, enveloping The earth in snow disheveled, nourishing With dried tubers what still restores life. The summer; we are amazing, falling from Starnbergersee With a downpour. We stopped by the porches And in the sun we walked through the alleys of Hofgarten, We had coffee, and for an hour we talked. Big Russ Russel, Stamm 'aus Litauen, echt deutsch. When we were children, in the house of the archivist, My cousin, he invited me on a sleigh ride. And I was afraid. He said to me, Mary, Maria, hold on tight. And slope down the sides. In the mountains, there, where you feel free. I read a lot at night, and I travel south during the winter. What roots are these that take root, which branches grow In this stony filth? Son of the man, You can not say, or even appreciate, because you only know A bundle of fractured images, struck by the sun, And as dead trees no longer shelter you, nor does the song of crickets console you, And no rumor of water throbbing on the dry stone. Only A shadow weights beneath this scarlet rock. (Come to the shadow of this scarlet rock), And I'll show you something different From your shadow to walk behind you when dawn Or from your evening shadow to your rising encounter; I'm going to reveal to you what fear is in a handful of dust.
LorraineWalker:
na sexta linha de baixo pra cima
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