Weekend en Périgord

Back from a great weekend at the Hameau du Sentier des Sources in Sarlat. Good friends, good food, good wine, a little sun, a happy band of children and a clutch of photos to remind us of it all. (Oh, and gariguette strawberries from the market this early in the season to boot.)

Poetry snippet

While looking for something completely different today, I came across this translation by Alastair Reid of a poem by the Mexican poet José Emilio Pacheco.

High treason

I do not love my country. Its abstract splendor
is beyond my grasp.
But (although it sounds bad) I would give my life
for ten places in it, for certain people,
seaports, pinewoods, fortresses,
a run-down city, gray, grotesque,
various figures from its history
mountains
(and three or four rivers).

Reid, who is Scottish, says that this so coincided with a poem he might have written himself that in translating it, he felt as if he was writing the original. Although I cannot say the same thing, in modestly copying and pasting his translation, I feel that I am at least endorsing the sentiment.

Blossom

I seem to be a little obsessed with signs of spring at the moment. Don't be fooled by the blue sky in this picture taken yesterday on the campus car park - it was actually extremely cold. After a glorious few days last week, it seems that winter is trying to creep back, but it ain't welcome anymore.

Cranes

This noisy squadron of cranes flew over our house yesterday afternoon on its way north. Which means that spring is definitely on its way too.