cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire






cruel

...and making me desperately think of the things that i am missing. du bist manchmal echt gut, praschl.


www.acheta.de


april minded

Whan that April with his shoures soote The droghte of March hath perced to the roote And bathed every veyne in swich licour Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open ye (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages), Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; And specially from every shires ende Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende, The holy blisful martir for to seke, That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

chaucer, the canterbury tales, the prologue