Monday, August 21, 2023


 “We know that you are royally blest
Cicada when, among the tree-tops,
You sip some dew and sing your song;
For every single thing is yours
That you survey among the fields
And all the things the woods produce.
The farmers’ constant company,
You damage nothing that is theirs;
Esteemed you are by every human
As the summer’s sweet-voiced prophet.
Muses love you, and Apollo too,
Who’s gifted you with high pitched song.
Old age does nothing that can wear you,
Earth’s sage and song-enamored son;
You suffer not, being flesh-and-blood-less–
A god-like creature, virtually.”
--  Anacreontea


  1. Nice close-up photo of the insect.

  2. When I hear them i know summer is moving by quickly.

  3. Más de una vez, he tenido una orquesta de cigarras en mi patio. Mis hijos, se encargaban de cazarlas y de que no le faltaran alimentos. Cosas de la niñez.
    Un abrazo


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