16.04.02 – Tuesday
A funny color has settled on the trees, a noxious youthful green promising both the plenitude of fall and the mishaps of summer. Idle much of the morning. And the rest of the day, too.
O mind of man that does not know the end
or future fates, nor how to keep the measure
when we are fat with pride at things that prosper!
(as translated by A. Mandelbaum)1
- Cf. Dryden’s version: ‘O mortals, blind in fate, who never know | To bear high fortune, or endure the low!’