"...Ut varias usus meditando extunderet artis paulatim. ..."
Translation: Practice and thought might gradually forge many an art.
From Georgics, Book I, line 133 by Virgil
*****
"...For a moment I am a prisoner
of the poem I am writing.
There must be an exit. ..."
From "The Starlings" by Jesper Svenbro
Translated by John Matthias and Lars-Håkan Svensson
The ages of human kind in a rose bush: youth/that middle age whose extent lengthens as we age/the withering end. But where are the thorns?
ReplyDeleteNon sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Lori
ReplyDeleteAlways reminds me of mom... sigh.
ReplyDeleteI'd say the blush is definitely off the rose here.
ReplyDeleteGoodbye summer...
An important message for crones of all genders.
ReplyDeleteMaybe this one should go in your greatest hits album ?