Glas yw an ebrenn ha tonnek yw an mor. Hazy blue – Ebryl yw! On the cliffs, looking. White blossom of blackthorn on the land – you’d think it had been snowing. Ghost-ships in the haze – trapped between sea and sky - floating minde’s cloud! Glittering solar merriel gracing the downvor deeps, sings a bird – the land awakes. Seal flips to vanish and the forest flourisheth on the cleeves – a heartvision of quiet glory….
Satie - Ogives
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Fête des belles eaux -