The vineyard country, russet, reddish, carmine-brown in this season. A blue outline of hills above a fertile valley. It’s warm as long as the sun does not set, in the shade cold returns. A strong sauna and then swimming in a pool surrounded by trees. Dark redwoods, transparent pale-leved birches. In their delicate network, a sliver of the moon. I describe this for I have learned to doubt philosophy And the visible world is all that remains.
by Czeslaw Milosz
(image from the guardian.com):
Czeslaw Milosz, 1911 – 2004
Poet. Essayist. Recipient- Nobel Prize in Literature (1980)