The shepherd

I like shepherds. I often wonder which thoughts go into their mind.

Do they find the day too long ? Are they lonely ?

I like seeing them guiding their goats on a narrow path in the sierra. They usually take them on the hills where thyme grows naturally. And there's a wonderful smell of fresh aromatic herbs in the air, once they're gone.

I wish you a happy peaceful week end.

I feel romantic today thinking of Monchéri who's away for a couple of weeks.

I leave you with a few lines from a poem by Miguel Hernandez which he made me discover recently.

Born to a poor family in 1910, Spanish poet Miguel Hernandez spent his childhood as a shepherd and published his first poetry book at age of 23.

These lines are from a poem called La boca (the mouth)

He de volverte a besar,
he de volver, hundo, caigo,
mientras descienden los siglos
hacia los hondos barrancos
como una febril nevada
de besos y enamorados.

I have to return to kiss you,
I have to return. I sink: I fall,
descending among the centuries,
towards the deep ravines,
like a feverish snowfall
of kisses and lovers. (translation by A.S. Kline)

And lots of kisses to you !