Mamma, jag vill inte ta kort, jag vill trampa på blommorna!
Scillorna (stavas det så?) var tydligen bättre.
I always feel like Wordsworth when we take the walk in spring up to Äskhultsby (I wonder if the daffodils were there in the 1700, when the village was built?) :I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
[...]
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
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