Ela adora as noites de nevoeiro cerrado. Há nelas um chamamento irresistível. A cada passo o abismo, o desconhecido.

If I make the lashes dark

And the eyes more bright

And the lips more scarlet.

Or ask if all be right

From mirror after mirror.

No vanity displayed

I'm looking for the face I had

Before the world was made.

(...)

William Butler Yeats(1865.1939)