Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Thoughts about April on April 1, 2020

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
--Lines 1-18 of The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)


Oh, to be in England now that April ’s there
And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!

And after April, when May follows
And the white-throat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—
That ’s the wise thrush: he sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could re-capture
The first fine careless rapture!
And, though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children’s dower,
Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
--Home Thoughts from Abroad by Robert Browning (1812-1889)


Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here's a thought that we should never miss:

Though April showers
May come your way,
They bring the flowers
That bloom in May;
And if it's raining,
Have no regrets;
Because, it isn't raining rain, you know,
It's raining violets.
And when you see clouds
Upon the hill,
You soon will see crowds
Of daffodils;
So keep on looking for the bluebird,
And listening for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.
--"April Showers", a 1921 song by Louis Silvers (music) and B. G. De Sylva (lyrics), made popular by singer Al Jolson


Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour,
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem Nature in hir corages),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.
--Lines 1-14 of Prologue to The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer (1340?-1400)


Speaking of "whan that they were seeke", the statistics as of 17:20 GMT today, April 20, 2020, from the World Health Organization (WHO) about the COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic are:

No. of cases worldwide: 911,570
No. of deaths: 45,536
No. recovered: 190,921
No. of active cases: 675,113
--in mild condition (95%): 640,257
--in serious or critical condition (5%): 34,856
No. of closed cases: 236,457
--No. recovered/discharged (81%): 190,921
--No. of deaths (19%): 45,536

It is my intention to post updated figures from WHO on May 1st, June 1st, etc. so that we can keep our heads about us as the days go by. The current numbers do not seem to match what Doctors Fauci and Birx are telling the American public, that the death rate is 10 times that of the flu (which is 0.1%) or 1% -- I have been keeping track every afternoon for about a week and the death figures worldwide compared to confirmed cases worldwide seem to be running steadily at around 5%. I'm not trying to alarm anybody, I just believe that truth is better than, if not fiction, wishful thinking.

7 comments:

  1. World wide I think these statistics are guesstimates. Many countries (probably most countries) are running insufficient tests to be sure just who has it, and who does not.
    Stay well, stay safe.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sue/EC, you may well be right. Perhaps the statistics I have been looking at daily are just the latest iteration of numbers submitted to some unchanging, previously-plugged-in math equation. Perhaps that is why the deaths seem to show steady at 5% of the confirmed cases. I wouldn't put it past the U.N. people for a second. But we are supposed to believe whatever the W.H.O. say.

      Delete
  2. Another April poem by one of my favorite poets:
    April Day
    by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
    When the warm sun, that brings
    Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
    'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
    The first flower of the plain....

    Hope that you all are doing well. I am enjoying my daffodils and tulips, and digging in the dirt of my raised beds.
    Perhaps I am part Hobbit...
    "But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth. For all Hobbits share a love of all things that grow. "

    Such sad statistics.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Kathy, I didn't know that particular Longfellow poem. My Longfellow exposure is limited to spreading chestnut trees under which village smithys stand, forests primeval with murmuring pines and hemlocks, flowers in crannied walls, the shores of Gitchee Goomi and the shining Big-Sea water, and Evangeline, and that famous day and year, the eighteenth of April in (17)75, one if by land and two if by sea, and I on the opposite shore will be, ready to ride and take the alarm to every Middlesex village and farm...

      I guess I know more Longfellow than I thought....

      I agree about the statistics. Very sad, and will get even sadder.

      Delete
    2. Wait a minute, I think flower in the crannied wall is Tennyson, not Longfellow. The memory starts to go at 79.

      Delete

<b>Always true to you, darlin’, in my fashion</b>

We are bombarded daily by abbreviations in everyday life, abbreviations that are never explained, only assumed to be understood by everyone...