Winter setting in…

Winter has now definitely arrived in Switzerland, just in time for the 1st advent! Siberia has helped to coat everything into a layer of snow. Time for nice winter poetry and music, I’d say. For reading, writing and listening to music with a hot cup of tea in front of me, and wrapped in a warm blanket – that felt like paradise today!

Whenever it comes to winter, the English traditional “The Snow it melts the soonest” comes to my mind. It actually isn’t really a song about winter but for me somehow fits into the atmosphere so beautifully well!

The snow it melts the soonest (trad.)

O, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing;
And the corn it ripens fastest when the frosts are setting in;
And when a woman tells me that my face she’ll soon forget,
Before we part, I wad a crown, she’s fain to follow’t yet.

The snow it melts the soonest when the wind begins to sing;
And the swallow skims without a thought as long as it is spring;
But when spring goes, and winter blows, my lass, an ye’ll be fain,
For all your pride, to follow me, were’t cross the stormy main.

O, the snow it melts the soonest when the wind begins to sing;
The bee that flew when summer shined, in winter cannot sting;-
I’ve seen a woman’s anger melt between the night and morn,
And it’s surely not a harder thing to tame a woman’s scorn.

O, never say me farewell here -no farewell I’ll receive,
For you shall set me to the stile, and kiss and take your leave;
But I’ll stay here till the woodcock comes, and the martlet takes his wing,
Since the snow aye melts the soonest, lass, when the wind begins to sing.

Those are a few pics I made out of the windows of my flat when the sky opened up for a moment and the sun shone through.

One famous winter poem was written by Thomas Campion in 1617. That’s indeed a great way to get through winter 😉

Now Winter Nights Enlarge

Now winter nights enlarge
The number of their hours,
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze,
And cups o’erflow with wine;
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall wait on honey love,
While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights
Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense
With lovers’ long discourse;
Much speech hath some defence,
Though beauty no remorse.
All do not all things well;
Some measures comely tread,
Some knotted riddles tell,
Some poems smoothly read.
The summer hath his joys
And winter his delights;
Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,
They shorten tedious nights.

Thomas Campion, 1617

Happy advent to everyone!