July 13, 2009

Campo Cestio, Rome

visited today, and yes ‘we stood before their graves just inside the walls of Rome’. No need to invent words to describe what these two ‘gentle’ men could do so much better.

Happy is England
John Keats

Happy is England!
I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent;
Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
And half forget what world or worldling meant.
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters;
Enough their simple loveliness for me,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging;
Yet do I often warmly burn to see
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing,
And float with them about the summer waters.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Rome has fallen,
ye see it lying
Heaped in undistinguished ruin:
Nature is alone undying.

note the cat grooming on Shelley’s grave

The cemetery is home to minions of cats

She was by far the loveliest, and new it.

This one reminded me of your insolent barn cat ‘Ditto’


Ms Edna said...

Nice post Clive. Thank you.
Ditto is beaucoup impressed with the comparison to the Roman cat.
Apparently, Roman cats are high up in the feline pecking order.
The barn runt has ‘mausered’ herself into the queen of Ivanhoe Hill, literally. The neighbors are happy. We are rat, mouse, gopher, lizard and pigeon free. Grasshoppers are all that is left.
Ferocious huntress that she is, she has earned the sobriquet the Silverlake Exterminator (no accent).

a fan said...

both post and comment

a blogger too said...

always a hit, thanks