By Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
(Capri, Piccola Marina)
Timeless sea breezes,
sea-wind of the night:
you come for no one;
if someone should wake,
he must be prepared
how to survive you.
Timeless sea breezes,
that for aeons have
blown ancient rocks,
you are purest space
coming from afar...
Oh, how a fruit-bearing
fig tree feels your coming
high up in the moonlight.
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Apart from yelling at the Supreme Court, which was not listening, my Wednesday was pretty quiet. I caught up on some writing and some photo stuff from before I went to the beach, and it was nice enough out for a long walk in the late afternoon, plus I did two Kyurem raids during raid hour, though the dragon flew away both times from my baby account.
Paul decided we should get Cava delivered for dinner, which was also lovely. We watched this week's The 100 (I'd watch that prequel if they pick it up) and Agents of SHIELD (why couldn't all the seasons have been like this season). Here are some photos of the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk attempting to maintain social distancing last week:
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