Sandro Botticelli, Spring, 1478 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 heap’d for the beloved’s bed; and so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, love itself shall slumber on. La musica, quando le …
Ford Madox Brown, The last of England, 1855 The Frost of Death was on the Pane – “Secure your Flower” said he. Like Sailors fighting with a Leak We fought Mortality. Our passive Flower we held to Sea – To Mountain – To the Sun – Yet even on his Scarlet shelf To crawl the …
Emily Dickinson – Il gelo della morte era sul vetro / The Frost of Death was on the Pane Read More »
Claude Monet, The Artist’s Garden in Argenteuil, 1873 It is an honorable thought, and makes one lift one’s hat, as one encountered gentlefolk upon a daily street,that we’ve immortal place, though pyramids decay, and kingdoms, like the orchard, flit russetly away. E’ un pensiero onorevole, e ci fa togliere il cappello, come incontrare buona gente …
Pierre Puvis de Chavannes, Hope, 1872 What I can do – I will – though it be little as a daffodil – that I cannot – must be unknown to possibility — Ciò che posso fare – lo farò – anche se esiguo come una giunchiglia – quello che non posso – deve restare ignoto …
Emily Dickinson – Ciò che posso fare / What I can do Read More »
Charles Angrand, The western railway at its exit from Paris, 1886 Railroad yard in San Jose I wandered desolate in front of a tank factory and sat on a bench near the switchman’s shack. A flower lay on the hay on the asphalt highway – the dread hay flower I thought – It had a …
Create a website and earn with Altervista - Disclaimer - Report Abuse - Privacy Policy - Customize advertising tracking
