Sunday, September 22, 2013

When she's here with me

Maussade – gloomy


With everything joyful, there is some sadness because it can and will all pass. Nothing gold can stay, etc. But with every sadness is also an undercurrent of joy, because sadness means that there was something to value and miss. Even if you don’t have it anymore, there is a happiness in knowing that it is at least imaginable. The worst is just feeling nothing - nothing matters, nothing is beautiful, nothing is worth it. 

My two favorite poems on melancholy are “My November Guest” by Robert Frost and “Ode to Melancholy” by John Keats, especially the last stanza. You'll notice it's always a woman. 
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2 comments:

  1. Juliana ArthusoSeptember 22, 2013 at 6:06 PM

    Did you write the first part?
    I will copy this to my blog marjo marjo ^^

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    Replies
    1. ThankYouClubSeptember 23, 2013 at 1:32 AM

      I did write the first part, so copy away! ("nothing gold can stay" is a quote from this poem by Frost: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19977 )

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