“Peace is always beautiful.” ― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
rose
All posts tagged rose
A Magic Moment I Remember
by Alexander Pushkin
A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there.
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that’s beautiful and rare.
I pray to mute despair and anguish
To vain pursuits the world esteems,
Long did I near your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed- A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me,
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of renaissance,
I looked up- you again are there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that`s beautiful and rare.
“Are not in these shores”
“Non sono in queste rive”
by Torquato Tasso
Are not in these shores crimson flowers
Non sono in queste rive
fiori così vermigli
like the lips of my lady,
come le labbra de la donna mia,
in the sound of the summer breeze
nè’l suon de l’aure estive
between roses and lilies
tra fonti rose e gigli
does its song make the sweetest harmony.
fa del suo canto più dolce armonia.
The song that you give back to me to like
Canto che m’ardi e piaci,
Interrupted only by our kisses.
t’interrompano solo i nostri baci.
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
Robert Louis Stevenson
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
by Emily Dickinson
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
What merit have the Tune
No Breakfast if it guaranty
The Rose content may bloom
To gain renown of Lady’s Drawer
But if the Lady come
But once a Century, the Rose
Superfluous become —
“The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
It fled from all my ecstasy,
Now like a singing air creature
I feel the Rose
Keep opening.”
Hafiz
“And, like a ripe moon out of flimsy clouds,
Blossoms the shining fulness of your breast.
These curves conceal, this dear perfection shrouds
A soft, miraculous nest….”
Louis Untermeyer, “Ivory and Rose”
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
“I want to encourage women to embrace their own uniqueness. Because just like a rose is beautiful, so is a sunflower, so is a peony. I mean, all flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like women too.” — Miranda Kerr
“The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.” – Salvador Dali
Maverick Mist 