Sorry, you must be a member of this group to do that.
could only explain what he meant by reading that much-cherished, deeply melancholy passage from James Saunders’s Next Time I’ll Sing to You: There lies behind everything…a certain quality which we may call grief. It’s always there below the surface, just behind the facade. Sometimes…you can see dimly the shape of it as you can see sometimes through the surface of an ornamental lake the outline of a carp…It bides its time, this quality…you may pretend not to notice…the name of this quality is grief.
