The still beauty of summer evenings on the
greenswards where they lie outspread holds
out to us, without empty gesture or words,
a symbol of rest in gladness.
Young morning and its tricks has gone
away with the breezes; noon itself and the
velvet skirts of its warm winds, of its heavy
winds, no longer sweeps the torrid plain;and
this is the hour when, without a branch's
moving or a pond's ruffling its waters, the
evening slowly comes from the tops of the
mountains and takes its seat in the garden.
Oh the infinite golden flatness of the waters,
and the trees and their shadows on the reeds,
and the calm and sumptuous silence in whose
still presence we so greatly delight that we
desire to live with it always or to die of it and
revive by it, like two imperishable hearts
tirelessly drunken with its brightness.
Emile Verhaeren - Belgian Poet - 1855-1916
Meadow and Sunset Free Wallpaper
