"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

09 February 2024

Air.

Van Valckenborch, Winter, 1586


ANCIENT WINTER

Desire of your hands white
in the penumbra of the flame:
they had the fragrance of oakwood and roses;
of death. Ancient Winter.

The birds looked for their grain
and were suddenly of snow;
similarly words;
a little sun, an angel’s glory, 
and then the mist, and the trees
and us made of air in the morning.

Salvatore Quasimodo

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