If We Were Butterflies

I’m watching the movie “Bright Star”, which showcases John Keats the poet and his love with Fanny.  It’s a romantic film, very poetic.  I think it’s filmed beautifully, like portraits in each take.  It’s a melancholy movie, but isn’t love melancholy when you can barely be together, can’t be together?

But there is a scene where he writes her a letter….

“I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.” 
 John Keats (Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne)


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