Hoje começa o Verão

(Paul Cézanne)

                                              There were four apples on the bough,
                                              Half gold half red, that one might know
                                              The blood was ripe inside the core;
                                              The colour of the leaves was more
                                              Like stems of yellow corn that grow
                                              Through all the gold June meadow’s floor.

                                              The warm smell of the fruit was good
                                              To feed on, and the split green wood,
                                              With all its bearded lips and stains
                                              Of mosses in the cloven veins,
                                              Most pleasant, if one lay or stood
                                              In sunshine or in happy rains.

Excerto do poema "August" de Algernon Charles Swinburne, retirado deste livro, que está organizado por estações do ano:

 

 Escolhi este poema por causa de "the warm smell of the fruit" que só se sente nas casas antigas, no meio do campo, no Verão. Fechem os olhos e vejam lá se não se lembram.