Image via WikipediaI am listening to Romanian music and I am crying...The song - "Yellow Quince" brings back so many memories...Memories of my childhood, of late winter nights when, with my nose pressend on the cold window glass I was looking for Santa's sleigh.
Bitter - sweet childhood memories, I didn't know I had them etched so deep in my soul, it hurts so much to recall them, but they come, invariably, hauntingly, to play havoc with my feelings.
Light at the window
all our winter.
Strange, but the words don't sound the same in English, they don't resonate at all with my soul, so I think I'll say:
Lampa la fereastra
Toata iarna noastra
Like in the song, our grandmother used to put quinces on the windowsills and I loved to smell them, the almost bitter smell, pungent and fresh tickling my nose. I used to bite one, stealthingly and the tart flesh of the fruit prickled my lips and the inside of my mouth. Later, when the quinces were rippen, my grandmother made quince jam, and if you'd put a jar in the strong winter light and look through it, the jam sparkled in a million gem-like orange rays. And if you'd been good, grandma would open a jar and gave you for breakfast bread and quince jam, with sweet tea and a hug that smelled like cinamonn and anis seeds.
You can listen to the song here:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LztM8GLrUaY&feature=related.You don't have to understand the words, just let the music flow...