From bad lands

That we can meet and become friends over dreams, as much as by any other time-honored method or spontaneous way, is inspiring and heartening indeed. In that regard I’ve been lucky in recent years, since I began recording and sharing some of mine. One such connection is Giacomo Conserva, a psychiatrist and psychotherapist in Parma, Italy, who found his way to this blog via four lines by Auden:

From bad lands, where eggs are small and dear,

Climbing to worse by a stonier

Track, when all are spent, we hear it — the right song

For the wrong time of year.

I found and read them first on the title page of a Modern Library edition of Auden’s work. The lines soaked in to such an extent that they eventually returned to me in a dream, which I put down simply as “Dreaming Auden,” and which Giacomo so kindly shares in this entry of his blog.

And so the dream continues.