Talvez as memórias sejam como os grãos de areia numa praia: aguardam que o vento venha e disperse, reorganize, proporcione uma ilusão de mudança. Aguardam, e o vento vem sempre.
[Perhaps memories are like grains of sand on a beach: they wait for the wind to come and disperse, reorganize, provide an illusion of change. They wait, and the wind always comes.]
[Perhaps memories are like grains of sand on a beach: they wait for the wind to come and disperse, reorganize, provide an illusion of change. They wait, and the wind always comes.]
Texto | Text: Paulo Kellerman
Fotografia | Photo: Cristina Vicente
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