My cup is yellow
Or not, though not's

Impossible
It's yellow

As I grow older, the idea takes increasing hold in me that we've misunderstood our own delicacy and diversity as human beings.

My father never liked me or my sister, and he never liked our mother either, after an initial infatuation, and in fact, he never liked anyone at all after an hour or two, no, no one except a stooge.

We're alive in both cups. We're alive in the U.S. Open Cup, which is very important to our organization. We're still very much alive in league play. So we're very happy that we won Wednesday night. We know that we will meet this team again in league play at our place, and probably in the playoffs at some point. We just hope to be playing our very best soccer when that time comes.

I went out to the hazel wood
because a fire was in my head
cut and peeled a hazel wand
and hooked a berry to a thread
and when white moths were on the wing
and moth-like stars were flickering out
I dropped the berry in a stream,
and caught a little silver trout....


(Song of Wandering Aengus)

Yo te he nombrado reina.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
Hay más puras que tú, más puras.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
Pero tú eres la reina.

Cuando vas por las calles
nadie te reconoce.
Nadie ve tu corona de cristal, nadie mira
la alfombra de oro rojo
que pisas donde pasas,
la alfombra que no existe.

Y cuando asomas
suenan todos los ríos
en mi cuerpo, sacuden
el cielo las campanas,
y un himno llena el mundo.

Sólo tú y yo,
sólo tú y yo, amor mío,
lo escuchamos.