Adieu Printemps - Weekend Reflections

We've just received photos of our French garden from our dear neighbours who keep a watchful eye over My French Folly. According to their report................

Spring is about to bid us farewell as the sun stretches high into the sky.

The promise of new life has been delivered.

Fledglings dessert their nests.

The breeze plants a warm kiss in the shadows

 Now, the sweetness of the air barely lingers.

Leaves discard their verdant, juvenile greens for more mature hues.

Nature's rhythms continue to invoke feelings of wonder and security.

Printemps  by Victor Hugo

Voici donc les longs jours, lumière, amour, délire!  


Voici le printemps ! mars, avril au doux sourire,  

Mai fleuri, juin brûlant, tous les beaux mois amis!  

Les peupliers, au bord des fleuves endormis,  


Se courbent mollement comme de grandes palmes;  

L’oiseau palpite au fond des bois tièdes et calmes;  

Il semble que tout rit, et que les arbres verts  

Sont joyeux d’être ensemble et se disent des vers.  


Le jour naît couronné d’une aube fraîche et tendre;  


Le soir est plein d’amour ; la nuit, on croit entendre,  

À travers l’ombre immense et sous le ciel béni,  

Quelque chose d’heureux chanter dans l’infini.

Springtime by Victor Hugo

Here are the long days, light, love, delirium!


This is the Spring! March, April with a sweet smile,


May flowery, June blazing, all the beautiful friendly months! 


The poplars, asleep by the riverside,


Bow gently like great palms
.

The bird quivers at the far end of the calm, tepid woods
.

It seems that everything laughs, and that the green trees


Are joyful to be together and say verses to each other.


The day comes crowned with a fresh and tender dawn.

The evening is full of love, the night, one can almost hear


Through the immense shadow and under the sacred sky,


Something happy singing in the infinity.

Recording: Monique Palomares  

English Translation: Lisa Yannucci 

Linking to Outdoor Wednesday

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Punch - clearly not gorgeous

When being gorgeous is not enough

A Word to Husbands 

To keep your marriage brimming

With love in the loving cup,

Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;

Whenever you’re right, shut up.

by Ogden Nash

Quatrain Number 20............A Favourite Since Childhood

 Edward Fitzgerald: “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam” (1905)

Quatrain Number 20

Ah, my Belov'ed fill the Cup that clears 

To-day Past Regrets and Future Fears: 

To-morrow!--Why, To-morrow I may be 

Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. 

By Omar Khayyam

This quote has helped to buoy me through difficult times. Introduced to The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám at a tender young age, by my Great Uncle who could quote a relevant quatrain for almost any situation, I learned to recite my favourite verse, quatrain 20, before the age of 10. As I grew in years so too did my appreciation of this eloquently expressed piece of wisdom. It is a pity that many 21st century children are deprived of the richness of an extended family............ 

Pretty Halcyon Days

The smell of the sea breeze evokes strong memories of childhood. Familiar. Secure. Sadly, the sense of adventure and fun gave way to studiousness and sensibility as I grew into adulthood. ......Why?

With the passing of time, I have come to realize the importance of retaining and nurturing our “inner child” – the spring that feeds creativity and forges balance in our lives.

As a pre-teen, two of  my much loved books were penned by Ogden Nash and Omar Khayyam. Their verse now induces similar responses to a whiff of ocean air -  they are my cognitive “sea breeze”.......... Winter nights in front of an open fire with siblings jostling for “the best spot”. Mother's cooking. Family meals around our expansive kitchen table. Laughter. Father reciting A Sentimental Bloke. Being curled up in bed, protected from the cold by layers of heavy, grey, woollen blankets. Reading by torch light.  Long, repetitive concerts performed for our parents. Hand knitted bed-socks. Flannel pyjamas. Nighties made of feather-light Swiss cotton, bought from the local haberdashery and lovingly sewn into night attire by Great Aunt Isabel. .............Precious times.

Pretty Halcyon Days
How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
       No letters to answer,
       No bills to be burned,
       No work to be shirked,
       No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done!

How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
       To lave in the wave,
       Majestic and chilly,
       Tomorrow I crave;
       But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to look at the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.

How pleasant to gaze at the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of vikings and whalers
In the days of the vikings and whale.
       They sport on the brink
       Of the shad and the shark;
       If it’s windy, they sink;
       If it isn’t, they park.
It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
To gaze without having to sail.

How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
       But the sun and the sand
       No contractor can copy;
       We lie in the land
       Of the lotus and poppy;
We vegetate, calm and aesthetic,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun. 

Ogden Nash