Gaetano Previati, Haschisch, Le fumatrici d’oppio, 1887 O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves, Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop, With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragment cavendish and the shag, And the bright Virginia loose under the bright glass …
Alfred Stevens, Little Girl with Ducks, 1881 The girl that walks under the treesis only burdened by the weight of her plaits,while trying to whisper a song.She sings aloneand jumps along the road, as she does not knowthat never will she enjoy greater giftthan the little bit of fine gold on her shouldersand the joy …
Winslow Homer, Warm Afternoon, 1878 I giardini hanno nausea della lunga bonaccia.Lo stupore dei burroni corrucciatisa mettere scompiglio, più tremendoe più malefico degli uragani.La tempesta è vicina. Il giardinoodora dalla bocca arsicciad’ortica, di tetto, di marcio e sgomento.Sale in colonne il mugghio del bestiame. Do you know this poem in English? Please contact me Go …
Boris Pasternak – I giardini hanno nausea della lunga bonaccia Read More »
Giorgio Belloni (1861-1944), Full Moon on the Sea With sails all black my ship sails on far over the raging sea; thou know’st full well how sad am I, and yet tormentest me. Thy heart is faithless as the wind, and flutters ceaselessly; with sails all black my ship sails on far over the raging …
Heinrich Heine – Passa la nave mia / With black sails Read More »
Albert Joseph Moore, Loves of the Wind and The Seasons, c. 1892 Callignotus swore to Ionis that he would never hold man or woman dearer than her.He sware : but what they say is true – that lovers’ oaths enter not the ears of the immortals.And now his flame is a man, while ofpoor Ionis there …
Giambattista Tiepolo, The Death of Hyacinthus, 1752 Who knows aright to-morrow’s fortune ? When even thee, Charmis,whom we saw with our own eyes yesterday,next day we laid in the grave with tears. Than that thy father Diophon hath seen nothing more painful. Il dio domani chi mai può conoscerlo? Ieri tu pure, o Carmide, ci stavi …
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