“Oh, Laziness, Come…”

...from the quills of the dead white poets

Aleksandr Pushkin (1799 – 1837)


(From “A Sleep”, II) 1816

Oh, laziness, come, come to me, alone. 
You’re called for by soft coolness and good rest;
Only in you I see my goddess own;
All is here ready for the youthful guest,
All’s quiet here – the boring noise fell down
Behind my porch; upon a window, bright,
Downed a curtain, transparent and light;
And in a niche, where now a dusk is crowned,
Is weakly creeping bashful light of a day.
There’s my divan. Come to the word’s abode;
And be a queen. I’m here to obey.
All here is yours: paints, brushes, a lyre gold –
Just teach me right, move my hand in your way.

About Paul Jacko

Jacko was born in Czechoslovakia not long before the communist putsch in February 1948. He studied industrial chemistry there and left in 1969 for Australia, where he became a lawyer and established his own practice. He has now retired and beside hunting, fishing, camping, prospecting and playing golf he amuses himself by writing.
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