My little granddaughter asked me if a girl can ask a boy to marry her. I carefully pondered my answer. That used to be the case didn't it? You had to wait for a boy to ask you out, let alone marry you. Things are different now and I'm not sure about the rules so I was a bit vague and told her about my own experience. She jumped up and down in excitement saying that it must be so lovely to have a husband and babies .The day before, my little grandson had solemnly told me that if two people argue they really should get married again. In his child language he explained that the whole point of being together was to make each other happy. Such romantic conversations didn't surprise me one bit. I remember vividly the feeling of wanting to marry my dad. with him around I need never fear anything, everything would always be alright. I would always be happy with him around. That was when I was about three and then of course I naturally realised that was not how things happened. The next step was playing in what we called The Wendy House at infant school. We would all play at mummies and daddies and happy families. Children know what they need to be happy. Enough sleep, enough to eat , something to do, a time to play and lots and lots of cuddles and reassurance.It seems so simple. If you wanted to get married you look for someone worthy of your love and who loves you and then set about loving them with all your heart and making them happy. The poets Elizabeth and Robert Browning were, by all accounts, a couple who loved each other very much. A lot of their poetry tells us this. They loved Italy and England just like me and so inspired by my conversations with my grandchildren I have chosen two poems for today by Robert Browning (1812 - 1889).
Love in a Life
Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her -
Next time - herself1 - not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:
Your looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.
Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door,
I try the fresh fortune -
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest, - who cares?
But t'is twilight, you see, - with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune.
Life in a Love
Escape me?
Never -
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear:
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall
And, baffled, get up to begin again -
So the chase takes up one's life, that's all..
While look but once from your farthest bound
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope drops to ground
Than a new one. straight to the self-same mark
I shape me -
Ever
removed !
Amare è..... or Love is..... we all have our own ideas. Mine for today is that Love is... looking at each other with the eyes of a child, Amare è guardarci con gli occhi di un bambino.... cioè con voglia di farci felice.
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