Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer’s loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time’s deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.”
~ Ernest Dowson ~
“Marsden Hartley’s Himmel appears like a night display of fireworks translated into paint on canvas and across the frame. The composition’s overlapping, abstract, colorful shapes are rooted in French Cubism’s motifs and palette. The concentric discs floating across the painting reveal Hartley’s knowledge of American Indian design. They also may relate to cockades that decorated the German military uniforms that Hartley saw while living in Berlin at the onset of World War I. The German words for heaven (Himmel) and hell (Hölle) frame two conical shapes that resemble Zuckertuete, colorful bags of candy given to German schoolchildren. Combining childhood themes with military references, Hartley suggests that war is a kind of game that may end in salvation or damnation.
In October 1914 the death in action of von Freyburg, with whom Hartley had developed a close relationship, inspired a new and more powerful series of paintings in which elements of German military regalia symbolized his lost friend. One of the greatest of these visual tributes, this composition is dominated by forms resembling exploding bombs or fireworks, and includes an equestrian monument to valor and the German words Himmel (Heaven) and Hölle (Hell) to allude to the dual natures of war and love.” — Nelson Atkins Museum of Art 🔸
“That softness around your eyes, a softness in your face. Almost the way you feel when you’re about to start crying. That, to me, is love. It can be romantic love, it can be friendship love, it can be family love, it can be love for a chipmunk. It can be love for anything.” — Moby
“This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.”
– William Shakespeare
“It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.” — William Carlos Williams
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.