Gripe

The birds...
Hitchcock apresenta.







Some let me make you of the heartless words.
The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry
Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury.
By the sea’s side hear the dark-vowelled birds.
Dylan Thomas. The Collected Poems, 1956, Ed. New Directions. Especially When the October Wind (l. 29–32).