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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
Yesterday in school I felt so sorry for the kids in our class. Weˋre having a spell of hot summery days. The class was floated by sunshine and our teacher was fond to teach the kids about heavy, I mean really heavy stuff , in grammar.
Some of the kids had their heads rested on their desk. The last long weekend was a short pretaste of the long summer vacations. (I bet some of the kids were dreaming being at the puplic swimming pools diving and swimming instead of being caught by the teacherˋs eyes)
Their rest didnˋt last for long, because the teacher has very good eyes and doesnˋt miss when someoneˋs misbehaving.
We learnt about ˋinterrogativ pronounsˋ and more of such things. I really wonder who of the kids did understand the matter and will use it properly. But on the other side if you hear the word in German it is much easer. But the Latin words can easily make someone confused.
I know to know such things are really important for the kids who are going to join another school when theyˋre older, but for the rest it is a real disaster.
At the end of the four school years a huge German grammar test will hit them. The kids own a grammar map where all the important stuff is stored. I hope by then I can give them a helpful hand.