Danish Winter

I had been waiting to post this little thing composed some twenty five years ago -- waiting for winter, actully. But it starting to look kind of silly to wait for what looks like it isn't going to come, that is, winter.

From September up to now it is the warmest it has ever been, that is since 1874, when they started keeping reliable records. We haven't even made a dent in our stash of firewood. I had planned to top up the fuel-oil tank before they idjits esculate the crisises in the middle east in some even more insane way. But the oil people won't deliver less than a thousand liters, and ther isn't room for that in my tank.

Ah, but those are nice problems to have. The picture is one I took outside a castle a couple of miles from my home.

"The wind in the trees
blows brown melodies,
Brushing bare branches
bald of all leaves..."

If a kiss is the sound of a tender caress,
And if love is the question: what else is there left
To give or demand from the strength of a man?

A request for directions, some hint of a plan?
Are angels in heaven so sure of their tasks?
Please, give me some answer -- that's all that I ask!

The flowers of springtime, they always grow;
They always do that -- what else do they know?
The seed has the power and knows no disgrace.

He stands in the winter with snow on his face.
Spring-time is greentime, winter is brown.
Dark beauty, she wears a white, wedding gown!