Woman Reading, 1885
Childe Hassam
AUGUST.
Read by the wayside, read by the brook,
That this is the passion of the year;
Look at the fields, look at the woods,
Look upon me, and—draw near!
Just as these days are, so is my heart;
Lilies are flaming, berries are ripe;
Alders blow sweet, acorns are full—
And the bobolink's young ones pipe!
Ponder the river, ponder the sky,
Hazy and gray, hazy and blue;
Study the trees wed to the wind—
I promise you I'll be as true!
Read by the wayside, read by the brook,
That this is the passion of the year;
Look at the fields, look at the woods,
Look upon me, and—draw near!
Just as these days are, so is my heart;
Lilies are flaming, berries are ripe;
Alders blow sweet, acorns are full—
And the bobolink's young ones pipe!
Ponder the river, ponder the sky,
Hazy and gray, hazy and blue;
Study the trees wed to the wind—
I promise you I'll be as true!
Yes, true as August—as the birds' song,
The sweet fern's scent, the weedy, blue shore,
The shine of vines, smilax, and grape—
What can you ask for more?
Elizabeth Stoddard
Tänk att få vara allena med sina tankar. Så vilsamt det kan vara. Jag skulle vilja ha mera sån´t i mitt liv.
SvaraRaderaViola,
RaderaAbsolut nödvändigt, skulle jag säga.
Margaretha
som hoppas att
du hittar stunder
och platser där du
kan njuta av stillheten
och tankefrid