The wind blew all my wedding day,
And my wedding night was the night of the high wind;
And a stable door was banging, again and again,
That he must go and shut it, leaving me
Stupid in candlelight, hearing rain,
Seeing my face in the twisted candlestick,
Yet seeing nothing. When he came back
He said the horses were restless, and I was sad
That any man or beast that night should lack
The happiness I had.
Now in the day
All's ravelled under the sun by the wind's blowing.
He has gone to look at the floods, and I
Carry a chipped pail to the chicken-run,
Set it down, and stare. All is the wind
Hunting through clouds and forests, thrashing
My apron and the hanging cloths on the line.
Can it be borne, this bodying-forth by wind
Of joy my actions turn on, like a thread
Carrying beads? Shall I be let to sleep
Now this perpetual morning shares my bed?
Can even death dry up
These new delighted lakes, conclude
Our kneeling as cattle by all- generous waters?
- Romantic Love Poem By Philip Larkin
The day after that wedding night I
found that a distance of a thousand
miles, abyss and discovery and
irremediable metamorphosis,
separated me from the day before.
- Quote by Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
In everyone there sleeps.
A sense of life lived according
to love. To some it means
the difference they could make.
By loving others, but across
most it sweeps. As all they might
have done had they been loved.
That nothing cures.
- Quote by Philip Larkin