Mademe De Warens, you would watch the storm
Folding the dark trees of your sad Charmettes,
Or else you played the spinet, in a fret,
You clever woman whom Jean-Jacques would scold.
It may have been an evening such as this ...
The sky was blighted by black thunder-clouds ...
The smell of branches cut before the rain
Was sadly from your boxwood borders blown ...
And I can see him petulant at your knees,
Thursday, November 8, 2012