Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Just a thought

Sometimes I wish I knew less
about violence in its various forms.
And when being in such a mood,
I wish I were a humble gardener,
fond of literature and poetry,
writing a poem now and then.

Not necessarily, hm?

When a book and a head collide and a hollow sound is heard, must it always have come from the book?
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-1799)

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Birth & Death(lessness)

It's once again the (International) Day of the Book.
Well, and once again I do not care, but just repeat:
For me 365 days in any year are days of books,
and 366 in leap-years.

Anyway, on Shakespeare's 446th birthday
the 394th anniversary of either his dead
and the death of Cervantes
just to wish a very special literary evening.

May my voice not put you off the realm poetry.


Monday, March 22, 2010

Sparrows cussing like sailors

After their hibernation since last Thursday even my muscles enjoy a glorious soreness. It's good that spring comes! Still, I am glad - and I think my muscles are, too - that I decided to cut the fruit-trees in late autumn, as shortening parts of ...
... the hazels (one girl, one boy) and ...

one jasmine (the left one is an elder) ...

... by about 2,5-3 three metres was enough for a beginning, as - old sportsman's spirit - I don't use a motor-saw.

Cutting the jasmine I had been hesitating for five years. However, now it had to be done, although bad conscience was upon me; and not wrongly.
The longer I was busy with the jasmine, the more little visitors I got. They sat down on one of the few long branches which were left, and although I do not speak Sparrowish fluently, I knew the little fellows were cussing like sailors that, at least for a while, they will have to find another sleep-tree.
Which is why - to make up for -, immediately after my outrage, on the other side of Seanhenge I planted ...

... voilà: Seanwood Forest.