{hyacinths}
{hyacinths}
Partly because the smell is intoxicating and partly because of The Wasteland, which is also where the name of the blog comes from, in case you ever wondered.
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; | 35 |
'They called me the hyacinth girl.' | |
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, | |
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not | |
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither | |
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, | 40 |
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. | |
Od' und leer das Meer. |
Isn't it funny how lines sometimes speak to us? I first read this when I was sixteen, and my heart jumped. I still can't explain the completely visceral reaction I have to this particular stanza - poetry is a bit like love, I think. Sometimes your heart knows before your head has even had a chance to get in on the game.
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