17. your garrisons, like locusts, and your marshals, like swarms of hoppers! They settle on the walls when the day is cold. The sun appears, the locusts spread their wings, they fly away,away they fly, no one knows where. Alas,





“Diga ao Senhor: Faça em mim segundo a Tua vontade, mas antes de mandar-me o sofrimento, dê-me forças para que eu possa sofrer com amor.”. São Padre Pio de Pietrelcina