Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007-2013. Please give credit where credit is due.

Sunday, 28 December 2008

Keats country?

Minus four at 8am. Snow still crunchy on the ground and bright sunshine. Ice on the animals' water bowls.



A happy couple of hours were passed in the sunshine of Christmas Eve in the woods between Carmine and Cannero, at the laghetto, attempting (operative word) to sail a boat.

This beautiful and strangely silent place in winter always reminds me of the opening lines of Keats's 'La Belle Dame sans Merci' :

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

And for my Italian-speaking friends...

Che cosa ti tormenta, armato cavaliere
che indugi solo e pallido?
Di già appassite son le cipree del lago
e non cantan gli uccelli.
Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007, 2008. All rights reserved. Please ask first.

1 comment:

LadyFi said...

One of my favourite Keat's poems!

Sunday, 28 December 2008

Keats country?

Minus four at 8am. Snow still crunchy on the ground and bright sunshine. Ice on the animals' water bowls.



A happy couple of hours were passed in the sunshine of Christmas Eve in the woods between Carmine and Cannero, at the laghetto, attempting (operative word) to sail a boat.

This beautiful and strangely silent place in winter always reminds me of the opening lines of Keats's 'La Belle Dame sans Merci' :

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

And for my Italian-speaking friends...

Che cosa ti tormenta, armato cavaliere
che indugi solo e pallido?
Di già appassite son le cipree del lago
e non cantan gli uccelli.
Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007, 2008. All rights reserved. Please ask first.

1 comment:

LadyFi said...

One of my favourite Keat's poems!