and Neruda is sooooo into bread…
聶魯達怎麼那麼愛麵包呀…
標籤: English
Love Sonnet XIII
by Pablo Neruda
The light that rises from your feet to your hair,
the strength enfolding your delicate form,
are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver:
you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores.
你不覺得他們都在想自己的事情嗎？
While they were eating, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said,
names are disappearing
Give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…
葡萄美酒夜光杯就是這樣的意思嗎？
