In the Mountains on a Summer Day
Li Po, translated by Arthur Waley
Gently I stir a white feather fan, With open shirt sitting in a green wood. I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone; A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.
Poem 1386
Emily Dickinson
Summer — we all have seen — A few of us — believed — A few — the more aspiring Unquestionably loved —
But Summer does not care — She goes her spacious way As eligible as the moon To our Temerity —
The Doom to be adored — The Affluence conferred — Unknown as to an Ecstasy The Embryo endowed —
Here’s a song that pretty much summarizes our feelings about summer. Execpt where it says “dry” – because it’s really humid here!
Cruel Summer
by Bananarama
Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning
I sit around
Trying to smile but the air is so heavy and dry
Strange voices are saying (What did they say?)
Things I can’t understand
It’s too close for comfort
This heat has got right out of hand
It’s a cruel, (cruel), cruel summer
Leaving me here on my own
It’s a cruel, (it’s a cruel), cruel summer
Now you’re gone
The city is crowded, my friends are away and I’m on my own
It’s too hot to handle, so I got to get up and go
It’s a cruel, (cruel), cruel summer
Leaving me here on my own
It’s a cruel, (it’s a cruel), cruel summer
Now you’re gone
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