Partly because the smell is intoxicating and partly because of The Wasteland, which is also where the name of the blog comes from, in case you ever wondered.
|'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;||35|
|'They called me the hyacinth girl.'|
|—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,|
|Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not|
|Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither|
|Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,||40|
|Looking into the heart of light, the silence.|
|Od' und leer das Meer.|
Isn't it funny how lines sometimes speak to us? I first read this when I was sixteen, and my heart jumped. I still can't explain the completely visceral reaction I have to this particular stanza - poetry is a bit like love, I think. Sometimes your heart knows before your head has even had a chance to get in on the game.