A candle burned on the table....a candle burned
Thursday, June 21, 2012
That's Mrs Palmer and her pet pig. I've always tried to figure out what my cats are thinking (and why do they always think in English?
Mrs. Palmer is dryly observant and she finds some aspects of daily life a bit tedious. She likes Dr. Zhivago's poem that has, as its refrain:
"A candle burned on the table...a candle burned".
From Pasternak's novel:
"As they drove through Kamerger Street Yura noticed that a candle had
melted a patch in the icy crust on one of the windows. The light seemed
to look into the street almost consciously, as if it were watching the
passing carriages and waiting for someone.
'A candle burned on the table,a candle burned...' he whispered to
himself-the beginning of something confused,formless; he hoped that it
would take shape of itself, but nothing more came to him."
So today, on this longest day of the year, when the sun has sweltered and the air conditioning has been almost paralyzed by the scorchingly brutal heat; I think of Yuri Zhivago in a Russian winter; contemplating the rhythm of life.