Christian Morgenstern – Nov 28, Fun with Chairs

Holidays often return me to my childhood. I vividly remember being fascinated by the wax candles dripping endlessly in their Chianti bottle holders at funky little Italian restaurant on Canyon Road called the Three Cities of Spain. I was five and thought the wax was magical.

THE DREAMER

Palmström sets a bunch of candles

on the table by his bedside

and observes them slowly melting.

Wondrously they fashion mountains

out of downward-dripping lava,

fashion tongues, and toads, and tassels.

Swaying o'er the guttering candles

stand the wicks with flames aspiring,

each one like a golden cypress.

On the pearly fairy boulders

soon the dreamer's eyes see hosts

of dauntless pilgrims of the sun.