lørdag den 16. oktober 2010

Og så af sted til Firenze

The morn when first it thunders in March,
The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say;
As I leaned and looked over the aloed arch
Of the villa-gate this warm March day,
No flash snapped, no dumb thunder rolled 5
In the valley beneath where, white and wide
And washed by the morning water-gold,
Florence lay out on the mountain-side.

(første strofe i Robert Brownings
digt "Old pictures in Florence")

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