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'E sciure, flowers. Eighty-one is beauty that doesn’t last: a bunch of flowers is beautiful precisely because it wilts, and the Smorfia knows it. It’s the number of the gift — flowers serve no purpose, and that’s exactly why people give them — and of spring, that moment when things start over without asking permission. In dreams, eighty-one arrives when there’s something beautiful and fleeting. A happy stretch you already know won’t last forever, a kind gesture from someone, a day that went well for no reason. It’s also the number of things done out of affection, not necessity. The images that lead here meet in the same meadow. The flowers, which stay on the ground. And the rabbit, which runs through them and disappears before you’ve had a good look. The Smorfia pairs them because they’re the same thing at different speeds: beauty you can’t hold on to. If eighty-one came up in your dream, there was something beautiful in it. We won’t tell you to hold on to it — you can’t, and that’s the beauty of it. We’re saying it was there, and that you noticed it.
Smorfia
flowers
'E ciure: flowers. Beauty given as a gift, and a celebration that doesn’t last long.
Animals
rabbit
Fertility and fear: the one who multiplies and the one who runs away, often in the same story.
The entries the old Smorfia tied to 81, spelled the way they were back then.
1 person
for a total of 12 dreams.
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Fleeting beauty
Flowers, the garden, the face that turns your head: beautiful because it fades.
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