April is the cruellest month, breeding
....
Lilacs (or lilies!) out of the dead land, mixing
....
blah blah blah!
This is not a lilac (or a lily):
Did you really think I'd post such a cliché on my blog?
Come on!
Belated April Fool's!
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Fontainebleau
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About Me
- Bel
- Paris, Île-de-France, France
- Embora ache que outras pessoas deveriam preencher esse espaco, vamos la': Intempestiva, meio xarope, geralmente legal, chata de vez em quando, sincera e leal, transcendente às vezes, mistica outras, struturalista contra propria vontade mas ah...chega.
1 comment:
Hey bro, don't knock the Eliot dude, knock the Browning dude-
OH, to be in England now that April ’s there
And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough 5
In England—now!
II
And after April, when Mary follows
And the white-throat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover 10
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—
That ’s the wise thrush: he sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could re-capture
The first fine careless rapture!
And, though the fields look rough with hoary dew, 15
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children’s dower,
Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
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