(Jane Carle – Beech Tree Wood in Spring)
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say.
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
(Philip Larkin 1922-85 – from ‘High Windows’ 1974)
I see you are using my painting for this site – I would be pleased if you could link it to the above website.
Thank you
Jane Carle
—
Dear Jane
I am more than happy to add a link to your page on the SAA site (linked to your name). As you will have seen, I had already credited you and linked to the BBC site (now linked to the original name of the painting). Its a most attractive picture – a misty spring morning walk in the bluebell woods, though they look like Silver Birch rather than Beech trees! Ideal to accompany the poem. I enjoyed looking at your new work too.
Thank you.