The air, canals, plane trees,
mulberries were without leaves...
Far away you saw
towns under the clear mountains.
Tired of playing on the grass,
in those February days,
I sat here, bathed
in the green air's chill.
I went back in summer.
And in the middle of the countryside,
what a mystery of leaves!
And so many years have gone by!
Now February is here,
canals, plane trees, mulberries...
I sit on the grass,
the years have gone by for nothing.
-Pier Paolo Pasolini
5 comments:
butiful!
Thanks! I think the fact Pasolini was a filmmaker is the reason why his words are given such a vivid sense of place. I hope my photograph stands well with them.
N.
Some of my favorite February songs, poems, and witticisms.
*
In February it will be
My snowman's anniversary.
With cake for him,
And soup for me!
Happy once,
Happy twice,
Happy chicken soup with rice.
-Maurice Sendak,
"Chicken Soup with Rice"
*
The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism, but February.
-Joseph Wood Krutch
The Twelve Seasons,"February"
*
I threw your keys in the water, I looked back,
They'd frozen halfway down in the ice.
They froze up so quickly, the keys and their owners,
Even after the anger, it all turned silent, and
The everyday turned solitary,
So we came to February.
First we forgot where we'd planted those bulbs last year,
Then we forgot that we'd planted at all,
Then we forgot what plants are altogether,
And I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February?
You know I think Christmas was a long red glare,
Shot up like a warning, we gave presents without cards,
And then the snow,
And then the snow came, we were always out shoveling,
And we'd drop to sleep exhausted,
Then we'd wake up, and it’s snowing.
And February was so long that it lasted into March
And found us walking a path alone together.
You stopped and pointed and you said, "That's a crocus,"
And I said, "What's a crocus?" and you said, "It's a flower."
I tried to remember, but I said, "What's a flower?"
You said, "I still love you."
The leaves were turning as we drove to the hardware store,
My new lover made me keys to the house,
And when we got home, well we just started chopping wood,
Because you never know how next year will be,
And we'll gather all our arms can carry,
I have lost to February.
-Dar Williams, "February"
Mmm...chicken soup with rice!
poor febbraio....
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