Nem todos os dias são lisos e tranquilos. Há dias difíceis, dias que perdem a calma e que agitam a superfície do tempo. São dias de tempestade, dias que nos puxam para o fundo e revolvem a serenidade do coração. São dias em que descemos à profundidade do medo e do desamparo, são dias sem data. Só quando habituamos o olhar a ver no escuro é que percebemos que é hora de voltar. E percebemos também que, sem tempestade, muitos tesouros silenciosos permaneceriam escondidos no fundo da vida.
Shakespeare on Sorpotel And as I am so thoughtful, I'll do you guys a favour, Though you won't get a mouthful, I'll try to catch the flavour. It's made of many piggy parts, Heart, fat and liver, Vinegar that smells like farts, (Looks like water from the river). The meat is chopped in little bits, After being on the boil. Forty chillies to give you the sh*ts, And half a gallon of oil. And all the grand ol' aunties, Will insist, you'll see, On half a pint of piggy blood, For the right consistency. Oh! Why are you gagging? Why do you look so pale? Did you hear granny bragging? "It's better when it's stale!" It's delicious and it's really HOT We eat on 25th December, On boxing day sit on the pot, And boy! Do we remember! So grab your rope my dearest friends, Draw some water from your well. You'll need plenty of it at both your ends, When you experience SORPOTEL! :)

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