My little house
Our house is on the very bank of the Danube river.
It might be little
and old, but the expanse around is wide. Often mostly is windy and vivid!
It is full of birds, insects and frogs... It is not like in the big city,
where you cannot fill the change of the seasons... here you could smell,
till you are drunk, the season's fragrance... The river in the summer has
a whiff of an open watermelon... and my hair is whiffing of river... When
the apple-tree is blossoming in the abundant spring sun, it turns to a
humming hive, full of mad intoxicated bees... it is untold rapture to sit
below... And in the autumn-time the scents of the brought down from the
ceaseless rains flowers are watering my heart.
My little house is my field of dreamed sunny freedom, where I could
paint down the doors and the windows in the colors I wish, where I could
lay the warm many-colored texture, springing out of my soul and to hope
to bring cozy comfort to my beloved people.
