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Saturday, May 01, 2021

The Lilacs Are In Bloom

 
—Public Domain Photos

 

MAY DAY
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.

Red small leaves of the maple

Are clenched like a hand,

Like girls at their first communion

The pear trees stand.
 
Oh I must pass nothing by
Without loving it much,

The raindrop try with my lips,

The grass with my touch;

For how can I be sure

I shall see again

The world on the first of May

Shining after the rain?
 
 
 

 

IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) 

No hay pajaros en los nidos de antano.
                
                  —Spanish Proverb 
 
 

The sun is bright,—the air is clear,
  
  The darting swallows soar and sing.

And from the stately elms I hear
  
  The bluebird prophesying Spring. 

So blue yon winding river flows,
  
  It seems an outlet from the sky,

Where waiting till the west-wind blows,
  
  The freighted clouds at anchor lie. 

All things are new;—the buds, the leaves,
  
  That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest,

And even the nest beneath the eaves;—
   
  There are no birds in last year's nest! 

All things rejoice in youth and love,
   
  The fulness of their first delight!

And learn from the soft heavens above
   
  The melting tenderness of night. 

Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme,
   
  Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay;

Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime,
   
  For oh, it is not always May! 

Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth,
   
  To some good angel leave the rest;

For Time will teach thee soon the truth,
  
  There are no birds in last year's nest! 
 
 
 

 

MAY AND THE POETS
—James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)

There is May in books forever;
May will part from Spenser never;
May's in Milton, May's in Prior,
May's in Chaucer, Thomson, Dyer;
May's in all the Italian books:—
She has old and modern nooks,
Where she sleeps with nymphs and elves,
In happy places they call shelves,
And will rise and dress your rooms
With a drapery thick with blooms.
Come, ye rains, then if ye will,
May's at home, and with me still;
But come rather, thou, good weather,
And find us in the fields together.

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

May: the lilacs are in bloom. Forget yourself.

—Marty Rubin

___________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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