The mythical landscape

The Mythical Landscape


I know of a narrow dale so full of thorny bushes that
no one goes there and since it has no olive trees it’s
been left in peace. Those who are willing to get stung,
will find a clearing, near a small mere, where grass is
green all year and roses never lose their petals.

I cannot give you the location, promised the dwellers,
a dignified camel and a terrier, both escapees from
a Swedish circus, which once performed in Lisbon.

Now as days are getting shorter and my own dog has
died, and there are no one on the lane leading up to my
house, I have been thinking of going there; only they
might both be dead, or a roadway cleared down to
the mere; and I’m tired of getting stung by unfriendly
obstacles to get to the heart of the matter