Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise


Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near.

Pictures by SPERA GERARDO - POMARICO (ITALY)


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Hello everyone and welcome in my photoblog. The photos are all taken in italy and specifically in basilicata. My small town called POMARICO is located in the province of Matera, ITALY. Good Vision! Dino.

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