Det har vært stille fra denne kanten enstund og det vil det nok bli en stund til er jeg redd.
I hagen er det slett ikke stille, nå formelig EKSPLODERER det der ute. Viser her endel av Alvehagens påske og pinseliljer. Diktet som følger er utrolig vakkert og ofte sitert meg av min kjære Benjamin.
The Daffodils
I wander’d lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of the bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:-
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensieve mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude:
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth
Alvehagen 