balade toscane

sur la colline 
la maison, les oliviers 

sont seuls dans le vent 

to be back...

But oh for the mild glow

Of mellow old brick walls

Peeping through all shades of green

Of scented hills and valleys,

Ringing with blackbird-song.

And for the bright specks of red by the roadside

Of poppies that swing in the breeze,

Ripe kisses awaiting the harvest.

And for the sky so blue and deep

And humming with the everlasting

Music of the universe.

But oh for the ringing and singing of church bells

Swinging in steeples and towers of stone,

Singing of faith and of angels,

Of bloodshed and war and of fear,

Filling the air and the hearts

With their song.

Oh to be back…