Fragments And Reflections

Song Fragments Of A Lost Harvest

The trees will be heavy with fruit this autumn,

Boughs aching with the weight of fat flesh,

Apples and pears and plums and greengages,

But we shan't enjoy them this year, now –

Or any year again, I realise, suddenly.

'O Fortuna

Velut luna

Statu variabilis,

Semper crescis

Aut decrescis...'

No more the fresh, sharp juices spilling out

From press and cup and eager lips;

No more the welcome shade of fluttering

Leaf and crooked branch above, as I lie quietly,

Gazing at the clouds in their giddy heaven.

'Sors immanis

Et inanis,

Rota tu volubilis,

Status malus

Vana salus...'

‎

I wonder who will enjoy this bounty now,‎

Free and so often taken without question,

A gift of rain and earth and sun, now worn

Thoughtlessly in bone and sinew, that once

Provoked such envious sighs in friends?

'Will you see the infancy of this

Sublime and celestial greatness?

I was a stranger, which at my entrance

Into the world was saluted and

Surrounded with innumerable joys:

My knowledge was divine...'

We have enjoyed the garden's last bequest,

Such sweet scents and tastes now to be

Regaled in stories told of what we had

And chose to lose – or some of us: a

Slight happiness to recall on summer days.

7th June 2015