Here in the North, the spring is one-on-one, the leaves of the trees are pale, the flowers are dull and dreaming. The spring of the North is a little poor and scanty, a quiet, quiet, but sweet and bright, full of summer hopes, faithful expectation, prayer, peace.
There is a glowing spring in the south.
The sun is roasting hot, the trees, shrubs and lawns cling to bloom, shimmering, rich, joyful, and early golden jewels sparkle on their branches, an abundant harvest as the next products. It will be summer, riches will come – and we will have to stoop to the hell and the despair before our times.
There the gray ruins whispers thousands of stories about the splendor and loss of past spring. Here, the beauty of art thrives and glows, – the most wonderful memories, – there hears the hearts of flaming flames, maybe shutting off in the twilight of autumn.
Only the Church tells you about spring, clear, bloody.
It bloomed once, but now it’s dead.
Glowing Spring Land! We’ll have our Nordic children traveling, who would listen to the language of memories, who would enjoy the beauty of the artefacts of art, look for the health of the rays of the hot day and the heart of the southern charm.
We start to get – maybe even give, knowing or not. Because we have our own treasures.
One spring in the North, a glowing spring in the south – through human hearts they touch each other. It has leveling, deepening, animation.
But above all, the wind of the Spirit is blowing, bringing the spring into the hearts where peace and glow, price and abundance, desires and best fulfillment coincide with eternity.
Capri Spring
– Pet Miss!
Graceful, childish body suddenly rose from the yellow dwarf shrubs to which it was almost covered. Their branches twisted around him at the shackles of the canopy, dropping his light hair, embracing everywhere and closing him in his sweet, fragrant purse.
– Where are you? – The girl’s detective sound glowed. He spoke neatly about breaking the German language, answering the young man who had spoken his name.
– High! So … you even invented it.
Their eyes happened to each other. The man’s gaze was playful, smiling, half-embarrassed by the girl, but at the same time obscured.
– What are you doing there?
– I look at you and the roses.
The painter Wolf Lichter sat on a garden wall, leaning on a pan with small curls, the secret of which was best known to Capri’s barber. The white capricious swimsuit shone in the dazzling sunshine. The man’s strong features and tanned skin were more distinct.
The girl folded the rose tincture, throwing it gently into the artist’s arms.
– Don’t your side grow like that?
Keeping the balance in his left hand, the artist reached behind the wall. The right hand met the red roses that were flying over the rain in the rain.
– Faster grows. Let’s change!
– Did we play the rose war? – The girl thrusts her head in the middle of the gold flowers, herself in a gold-plated, simple, yellow cotton sweater. She was very young and gentle, she had radiant eyes, and the face color was eager to blush on the cheeks.
– Miss, Miss, have you been brave! What would the owner of Hotel Faraglion say? Signora Giannina here in the Limone villa guardes her rose as a dragon.
– You’re terribly understanding. I have fun, so much fun that I would like to play and touring in the flowers. The doctor said this morning that I’m already pretty healthy. Do I look like that?
– Of course you look. So you are adorable, like a rose flower. That’s why I’m looking at you.
The girl blushed and looked at the ground.
– Get off the wall now, Mr. Lichter.
– Thank you very much, Pet Miss.
They both laughed. The artist nodded his head, jumped and disappeared to cover the wall. The girl took her white straw hat from the bench and walked to the gate. The gates of Faraglion and Limone opened at the same time, and as they were standing on Via Tragara at the same time.
– So we’re going to walk, – said the artist.
– Is it the time when your show is closed?
– Probably. Would I otherwise be here? Where do you want? I am ready.
– Via Krupp, – the girl replied. – That’s where you painted your big billboard.
– Now my little friend demands tremendous. Let’s roast like an oven.
Wouldn’t Arco naturale qualify?
The pet didn’t like the paternal tone of the words. True, he replied:
– Lonely.
– Well, what now? You’re not sorry? You also know how to paint your subject and the subject matter. Do you love the Via Krupp cacti and stoneware?
– I love the sun so infinitely, – said the girl, trying
to return to a happy atmosphere. – I can never be too hot.
We have a long, cold winter in Finland, and the summer is cool at home in
Gogland.
– Sunflower, – said the artist. He also changed his way of speaking. – You’ll be there in the north. Here you blossom. Yes, I take you to the sunshine; Come on, as long as it lasts.
– No, – said the girl quickly. – Let’s go to Arco. Then you don’t have to walk past the villas, and there aren’t so many people moving there. The sun shines even higher.
They stepped in parallel along a narrow road, lined with villas and gardens. The sun roared warmly, where the walls did not create shade. The greedy lizards slammed on the walls, slipping into their holes when the walkers approached. The white houses seemed dormant with their gratings that covered the windows. The narcotic scent spread from her flower shelves to the beautiful gardens.
At the door of a small shop, the wife pushed coral strips into sale.
– Abbiamo, – answered Pet, but stopped, jumping over his dark red necklace.
– Was that right? He asked, playing with his comrade. – I meant I had. He doesn’t seem to understand, he’s offering.
The wife hanged two coral ribbons in their hands like Pet’s own, praising that they were real corals and paying only Lira in total.
– How can they sell so cheap? – The pet banged his coral. – When I am at home I use these, does anyone think not that I bought them for fifty centesimi.
– They are abandoned fragments, – explained the artist. – You said that we have, because I have nothing. Excuse me for a beautiful one who is gorgeous, I buy.
– Do you? What are you doing with beads? – The pet’s gaze looked for a sincere ghost. But at the same time he was waiting for an angry excitement, without waiting for an answer.
– These Pinks are lovely, but they cost four times as much as the dark ones.
The artist smiled grimly. Fragment strips too! The girl didn’t understand thinking of expensive, polished beads. Yes, he had already noticed for a long time that a pair of lira was a very large sum for a small Finnish girl. Often it was so for himself; but here at Capri, the boards were well traded, and now there was no shortage of money.
He handed two silver coins to the wife’s hand and handed the girl the ribbon she admired, like a child whose joy is fun to watch. Amazedly, Pets exclaimed with joy. How many times did he wish such a blonde! He thanked “a thousand times”, looked at them happily and tried his neck. Since then, Wolf Lichter continued to trade. Again he took two silver coins from his purse and two more banknotes, replacing them with round, white-red, intact coral beads. He put them in his pocket before Pet found out what he had bought and paid for.
– Are we going now? – suggested Lichter.
They took the “street” to the actual countryside. The peasants’ low houses, lemon parks, wine and artichoke cultures flanked the road. Then the path became even steeper and narrower. Soon they were surrounded by a large, quiet natural environment.
The pet jumped lightly from the stone to the stone, the former and the new coral band on his neck.
– They’re just not fit for the color, – he laughed, – or how, Mr. Artist? But look, where else would I put the other? Besides, it’s so terrible fun when I have two.
He began to acquaint himself:
– You see, we have eight children, and the father is a locksmith and a child teacher at the same time. I have never received decorations. Co-educational school was sent to me yes, when I’m the oldest, but hardly a little sister for even that is enough.
Mr. Lichter wondered if Italy’s trip and stay in Capri had cost a whole lot more than a few small decorations.
– Yeah, no father could have published me here, never. I was divorced from the fifth grade and then stayed with my father to help children teach. But I got sick – the sea air was so brutal and strong. The doctor thought that I could get a lung disease, I’d get to the south, and I cried very much, because I wouldn’t have died. Lung disease – it was almost a death sentence in my opinion. You will understand that it is wonderful to live!
The artist agreed on his own side. However, he was not quite sure if it would be wonderful to be the eldest of the eight children of the locksmith and sit down on a snowy hill teaching the alphabet. But the girl was pretty and charming. What is it that the Saturian would have saved him for life?
– I came here with a great government advisor, do you remember? He is from Helsinki, but he has lived on our island for many summers. Even then, he lived when I was born, and his father and mother asked him for my godmother. He liked me; he has no children at all. I always had to write letters to me when I got bigger and it was terribly disappointing. But can you guess how good it was? When I wrote about my lungs last winter and what the doctor had said, he wrote that I could go abroad. He himself was just about to travel to Germany and Italy and promised to take me with me. Here for Capri, I was left for two months. Then he will get me out, and the point is already summer at home. Time flies too soon. A couple of weeks is left.
“Whether you are a good owner,” Lichter said.
– Yeah, and wonder how marvelous he just decided to travel. If he had been in the south last year, of course, he would not have gone and did not take it. “God must have led it,” he wrote. She’s a divine lady.
– What are you? – The artist loved. – Last Sunday you tried to bend me to the Gentile church with you in the German church.
– What? – The girl was embarrassed. – I don’t think much about those things. Of course I often come home to church when my father is a locksmith. I don’t know what happened to my mind last Sunday – maybe a little miss home.
– Bad home? Are you on a rough island?
– Yeah, sometimes it comes – but sometimes it seems like I never want to come back. Do you not understand such a contradictory feeling?
– Perhaps, – the artist replied thoughtfully. – I’m really islander.
– Are you? – The pet exclaimed with joy. – Where? Tell me!
– From the north, too. It’s not too long for you.
Rügenillä I was born, liituvuorten and beech forests in the middle.
– How much we have to tell each other! You’re sometimes telling me about Rügen, and I of Giza, for example. It’s marvelous and awesome, just like a fairy tale. Often, I climb to a highland full of round gray stones. It is said that they are from the ice age, but I imagine the giants are rumbling there. And it’s even more beautiful above. The mountains are high even though Monte Solaro is higher. But the sea is wide, aavempi than here, and the sandy beach of pure white … I dreamed there that the ship would bear me once far off a miracle countries, and now it is a reality. Maybe beautiful dreams will not be lost, maybe an angel will see them…
“You are a little wonderful girl,” said Wolf Lichter. –
You want to paint your imagination and the poems of your feelings.
– And I would like to imagine the poem and think, when I look at the studio of your your flat! If I could but …
– Whether it’s strange that the two of us for the islanders we met each other here in the third island, – said Lichter warmly. – Is not this after all, not just for the most wonderful? And we had fun together, do not you? Probably someone from the “angel” even guessed and made a little friend Faraglione, when I lived Limonessa.
The girl’s eyes beamed with joy.
– Yes, yes, here has been fun! I am extremely glad that I got sick, and even happier when I’m healed. I have not before had no idea how rich and large the world is. And Capri is the place for the world’s most charming and best Faraglioni villa and you are the kindest man …
It was weird to have Wolf Lichter. He felt a cuddly charm, but at the same time he stood in the tunnel. She was a full instant child, a girl from a distant North, but in her inner soul spring spring and a woman’s confident emotional life was waiting for her spring or to hear… Did she wake up the spring? Was he frost and destruction?
When the artist did not answer, the girl continued to repress: – How did I get to Faraglion? Just that the State Councilor had visited Capri before and lived there. He was a little skeptical about leaving me alone with the guests, but he couldn’t set anything else. I wouldn’t have been particularly strong in the cities where he was staying. He didn’t want to take me to the sick spas and sanatorium because there wasn’t a problem in my lungs.
– Yeah, – said the artist, following the course of his own thoughts.
– Faraglioni is not an ordinary hotel, it’s like a family home. He hoped to get to know other residents.
– But you got to know me!