Who does not, from time to time, complain about the onset of winter: the shortening hours of daylight, the sniffling and coughing that comes with the season, the aches and pains in the elderly, and generally of life restricted in the low months of the year? To keep up your spirits you might turn to the well-known conversation between George Borrow, the author, or his alter ego, and the gipsy Jasper Petulengro in the book Lavengro. You may have read some of it here before. The author wanders the heath and comes upon Jasper Petulengro, "his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of the setting sun". Jasper tells him his mother and father have died since they last met.
"What is your opinion of death, Mr Petulengro?" said I.
"My opinion of death, brother . . . is when a man dies, he is cast into the earth . . . and there is an end of the matter."
"And do you think that is the end of man?"
"There's an end to him, brother, more's the pity."
"Why do you say so?"
"Life is sweet, brother."
"Do you think so?"
"Think so! There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind in the heath. Life is very sweet, brother, who would wish to die?"
"I would wish to die . . ."
"You talk like a gorgio - which is the same thing as talking like a fool - were you a Romany Chal you would talk wiser. Wish to die, indeed, A Romany Chal would wish to live for ever."
"In sickness, Jasper?"
"There's the sun and stars, brother."
"In blindness, Jasper?"
"There's the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that, I would gladly live for ever . . . we'll now go to the tents and put on the gloves; and I'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!" Y