|Le Cigale sing loud and clear in an Italian garden|
My poem for the day is by John Keats (1796 - 1821) who probably wrote this lovely poem while thinking of the happy sound the cigale make in Italy.
The poetry of the earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
That is the grasshopper's - he takes the lead
In summer luxury, - he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
In 1981 there was an Italian variety programme called Fantastico, and Heather Parisi sang the title song.... Cigale, here is the link if anyone feels like some cheerful nostalgia