La Fuite de la Lune
by: Oscar Wilde
- To outer senses there is peace,
- A dreamy peace on either hand,
- Deep silence in the shadowy land,
- Deep silence where the shadows cease.
- Save for a cry that echoes shrill
- From some lone bird disconsolate;
- A corncrake calling to its mate;
- The answer from the misty hill.
- And suddenly the moon withdraws
- Her sickle from the lightening skies,
- And to her sombre cavern flies,
- Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
- This week's Slice of Life encourages us to choose a poem that speaks to us, and a photo that goes with it. I took this photo today of a giant dried flower on one of the hills I walk. There were a few large stands of these, amid the burgeoning green of spring. I also recently listened to a podcast about Oscar Wilde and would like to familiarize myself more with his work. I see a parallel in the flight of the moon and the starkness of this flower.
- See previous Slices of Life here.