Ode to Autumn

“Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too.

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble palins with rosy hue.”


“Dove sono i canti di primavera? Già, dove?

Non ci pensare, una musica anche tu ce l’hai.

Intanto, sbarre di nubi avvampano il giorno che lento si spegne,

tingendo distese di stoppie con un tocco di rosa.”


To Autumn, John Keats † 1819

Nero Kane, Autumn † 201844920418_296499014305936_7114033758642110464_n

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