I have visited the shores where Ariadne loved and died.
I have seen the ruined palaces of the bull-king.
I have climbed in the white mountains where wild oleanders grow.
I have bathed in the torrent where it rushes between gates of rock.
I have looked down on valley fields after sunset aglow with their own luminosity.
I have seen the rocks that float.
I have seen the bones of the ones who died without hope.
I have seen the twin peaks of Kerá shrouded in dreams.
Nella and the sun smiled for me
but the sun was less gentle and less memorable.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
I have visited the shores where Ariadne loved and died.
I have seen the ruined palaces of the bull-king.
I have climbed in the white mountains where wild oleanders grow.
I have bathed in the torrent where it rushes between gates of rock.
I have looked down on valley fields after sunset aglow with their own luminosity.
I have seen the rocks that float.
I have seen the bones of the ones who died without hope.
I have seen the twin peaks of Kerá shrouded in dreams.
Nella and the sun smiled for me
but the sun was less gentle and less memorable.
written after a holiday in Crete
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