Hans, I tried to rescue her, but she fought me bravely off.
D.E., welcome back. Hope you enjoyed a wonderful holiday. Now don't I like to think of drowning in a cask of my only man, but for sure there are worse ways to go. I'd prefer, though, to die in Morpheus' arms.
CherryPie, Yes! And at the same time - some contemporaries would / will think "What an idiot" :) - I pondered what the fly may have felt, perhaps even thought. Did you read Coetzee's "Elisabeth Costello"? In chapter 3 you will find many thoughts (probably) better described than I could.
The gods were sweetly kind to me
ReplyDeleteBetter die in blaze of glory
Than be swatted in oblivion
Without a song, lost and unknown
Sir Sean, merci / for RIP
did the fly died drunk?.)
ReplyDeleteThat's quite a strange and pretty photo, Sean. And there are worse ways to go, for flies or for people...
ReplyDeleteWhat a way to go and such a colourful combination ;-)
ReplyDeleteClaudia,
ReplyDelete'Sir' Sean bows to the poetess. :)
Hans,
I tried to rescue her, but she fought me bravely off.
D.E.,
welcome back. Hope you enjoyed a wonderful holiday.
Now don't I like to think of drowning in a cask of my only man, but for sure there are worse ways to go.
I'd prefer, though, to die in Morpheus' arms.
CherryPie,
Yes! And at the same time - some contemporaries would / will think "What an idiot" :) - I pondered what the fly may have felt, perhaps even thought.
Did you read Coetzee's "Elisabeth Costello"? In chapter 3 you will find many thoughts (probably) better described than I could.