Stuart Miller-Osborne

I am carrying rural folk songs In my vintage filofax The songs are very similar

I am dedicating This book to myself Without you I am nothing

The air has cooled but is still warm Her days are now marginally shorter There is a taste of autumn upstream

Bonfires populate the fading meadows That long border the darkening river Fires have been started

Martha We are halfway across the ocean Initially we were heading south Bu then I injured my nose It bled a great deal I hope it is not broken This said we are sailing towards New York As I am going to meet a specialist in the city Daddy’s first cousin Who I have not…

Wear your wellies Otherwise you will slip The platforms are icy Wrap up warm With only your face exposed Use my finest creams My daughter dear And do not leave your scarf On the train as you normally do

Le monde est rempli de fausses réflexions. Je les ai rassemblées dans mon petit carnet en cuir The world is full of false thoughts. I’ve collected them in my little leather notebook

The world is full of false reflections I have collected them in my small leather book

Sorrow had befriended Lopez A Spanish dwarf from Seville To help him with his translations Lopez was blind in one eye The result of a childhood accident

Sorrow was sitting in front Of a pathetic gas fire He had been studying The poetry of Gongora For most of the term