Valentine

Late evening, on the first of May—
The twilit May—the time of love.
Meltingly called the turtle-dove,
Where rich and sweet pinewoods lay.
Whispered of love the mosses frail,
The flowering tree as sweetly lied,
The rose's fragrant sigh replied
To love-songs of the nightingale.
In shadowy woods the burnished lake
Darkly complained a secret pain,
By circling shores embraced again;
And heaven's clear sun leaned down to take
A road astray in azure deeps,
Like burning tears the lover weeps.

(Karel Hynek Mácha: May)

February is now only and these verses about love would look like not to fit to the current time. But it is not so like one could imagine for the first look. I am not in no way some favorer of the coming holiday, St. Valentine, because it has no absolutely anything to do with history and culture of my country.

Traditionally, just May is connected with love. Nevertheless, I have not resisted and I have strayed in SL at a ball in our community yesterday. This one was just Valentine’s ball. There were several people in the romantic arbour in Bohemia. So, I have call one lady to dance. Evening has run in nice atmosphere, so no one has wanted to leave.

What was there? So I offer some pictures for an inspiration, even if two last ones are from other time and other place.


The whole poem is here.