What
is this life if, full of care,
We
have no time to stand and stare.
No
time to stand beneath the boughs
And
stare as long as sheep or cows.
No
time to see, when woods we pass,
Where
squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No
time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams
full of stars, like skies at night.
No
time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And
watch her feet, how they can dance.
No
time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich
that smile her eyes began.
A
poor life this if, full of care,
We
have no time to stand and stare.
It has also been fascinating to see the locals’ reaction to us passing by in our big white campervan with the steering wheel on the ‘wrong’ side. In every village and town we have driven through we have been waved at enthusiastically by youngsters, smiled at by the horse and cart drivers and given thumbs up from passengers in overtaking cars. We have been given the nod from the drinkers in the roadside cafés, the shepherds leaning on the fences and the road construction men. We have also been viewed quizzically by the older folk sat on the specially constructed benches which almost every house lining a road has – some smile, some nod and some just stare!
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