Psalms, 21
16. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue hath cleaved to my jaws: and thou hast brought me down into the dust of death.
16. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue hath cleaved to my jaws: and thou hast brought me down into the dust of death.
“Pense na felicidade que está reservada para nós no Paraíso”. São Padre Pio de Pietrelcina