Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Controlled Woolgathering

io son sempre un idiota
io non so che sospirar

I am idiotically delighted to have this new quote, from the delightful love song of the country bumpkin in l’Elisir d’Amore.

I am always an idiot
I know only how to sigh

I intend to use it a lot about myself.  I’d like to be the office bumpkin, amiable and slow, simple and happy to believe what I am told.  Wearing a bit of birds-nest in my hair, or grass-stains on my knees; woolgathering.

''To lift, to fetch, to drive, to shed, to pen,
Are acts I recognize, with all they mean
Of shepherding the unruly, for a kind of
Controlled woolgathering is my work too.''
—Cecil Day Lewis

I shall always happily return to my sheep (revenons à nos moutons), whether poetic or otherwise, knowing how to do nothing but sigh—and maybe hum a bit from time to time.


  1. I'm back to my sheep too, my pencil's sharp and scribbles on smoothly again!
    And I also keep sighing and sighing and sighing. It is honestly the most beautiful pastime, away from ambitions and the thousand complicacies of hectic lives!

    1. Welcome back, and to your sheep and pencil scribblings and sighs!