I am tired and a bit melancholic. The Duden Lexicon of Foreign Words explains it as “Melancholie, die; Schwermut, Trübsinn”, what I find in my dictionary translated with “gloom, doldrums”, also an interesting sounding and to me unknown word – “megrim” – is listed.
The 1963 Fremdwörterlexikon explains melancholia (Ger., Eng.) as “vorübergehende oder dauernde Herabgestimmtheit des Lebensgefühls”, how would you translate this? A down-toned attitude towards life? Toned in shades of bluishgrey?
It is difficult to motivate myself these days. I have to write and research, literature has to be analysed, and of course ten useless books create an eleventh useless one – here no book, but a kind of essay or evaluation. I am over time. And I did not receive the promised advance payment, it was my customer’s idea and I happily agreed, but there is always the bureaucracy.
I am no friend of February, I have no good recollections of this month. It is an “in between”, undecided, still winter not yet spring.
Spring has another light, the air becomes clear. The sky is of a special and unique blue, in sharp contrast to the pure white clouds, they hurt the eyes. Large puddles of water stand in meadows; small streams, becks?, are filled with cold water and step out, over their boundaries, over night they become strong and dangerous, luring, glittering, tempting and inviting; water is not silent, it creates its own silence by small sounds, dripping and gurgling, a distant rush; clear and cold it streams, no place to sit, avoid wet trousers, they become heavy. The stream, it is a being of its own right, to be respected.Now and then it demands a sacrifice.
In March, not yet. Now its dirty grey heaps of snow rotting away in the streets; cold wind; and everybody wants it to be over.
At least some heart warming music.