AUTUMN SPRINGS

“Wine is sunlight, held together by water.” – Galileo Galilei

For Poetry Wednesday today, two poems, epigrammatic in their contrariness:

Wind of Spring

You touch the willows, and make a new green;
You breathe on the peaches, and restore a pristine red;
But for my fading countenance and my greying hair
I dare not blame you, Oh East Wind…
Ch’ên Chieh (Active 1260s AD)

The Grape
No, not by ephemeral roses saddened
That passing Spring will wither, kill;
But rather by grapes bunched shall I be gladdened
That ripen on the sloping hill,
On my fair valley joy bestowing,
The golden Autumn’s richest pearl,
As lithely tapered, freshly glowing
As fingers of a sweet young girl.
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin (1799-1837)

I still feel the tension between Northern and Southern hemispheres, and the Spring versus Autumn battle till wages deep inside me.