Behold the last rose of summer. (There are actually two others close by.) It got quite cold last week. Brave roses! I had to bring all my plants in from the “Florida Room” (see below). They are piled in and on and around the dining room. The rubber plant has grown a LOT and will need to be re-potted. Yikes.
And the geraniums soldier on bravely.
‘Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone…
By Rainer Maria Rilke
(Translated By Mary Kinzie)
After the summer’s yield, Lord, it is time
to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials
and in the pastures let the rough winds fly.
As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.
Direct on them two days of warmer light
to hale them golden toward their term, and harry
the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.
Whoever’s homeless now, will build no shelter;
who lives alone will live indefinitely so,
waking up to read a little, draft long letters,
and, along the city’s avenues,
fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.
