This week I took a rest from considering Novoneyra, the mountains and the countryside and gave myself up to
The sonnets start with a series in which the poet argues with a young man who is wasting his beauty by not having children. The imagery seems appropriate to this time of year, as the poet’s talk of time passing and I see the trees around me losing their leaves. I have put the readings with images.
Have a look and see if you like them: