OK so it's raining...

Summer

It rains. Summer has been Autumn. Waiting for Summer it rains. Life brings little poetry. Silence, wet and grey prevail. An image from Gabriel Garcia Marquez' One Hundred Years of Solitude pops into my mind: it rains and mold grows on the skin. No poetry: a scrap of d'Annunzio learnt long ago crosses my memory :

E piove su i nostri volti silvani,
piove sulle nostre mani ignude,
sui nostri vestimenti leggieri,
su i freschi pensieri
che l'anima schiude novella,
su la favola bella
che ieri m'illuse,
che oggi t'illude

Approximate translation:

And it rains on our forest self,
it rains on our naked hands,
on our summer clothes,
on our souls' newly born
refreshing thoughts,
on the pretty tale
once an illusion to me
an illusion today to you.

Miles from nowhere - nostalgia

Thinking of the photo "Destination unknown", this Cat Stevens song keeps coming back to me.

Miles from nowhere
I guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there

Look up at the mountain
I have to climb
Oh yeah, to reach there.

Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end

Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there

I creep through the valleys
And I grope through the woods
'cause I know when I find it my honey
It's gonna make me feel good

I love everything
So don't it make you feel sad
'cause I'll drink to you, my baby
I'll think to that, I'll think to that.

Miles from nowhere
Not a soul in sight
Oh yeah, but it's alright

I have my freedom
I can make my own rules
Oh yeah, the ones that I choose

Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end

Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there.