Constant Montald, The source of inspiration, 1907 So much water flowed under the bridge – a vast river of blood too – but a white stream flows where Love ends, in the gardens of the moon – where you are glorified everyday – this stream sings asleep. That moon is my head – a big …
Ernst Klimt, Francesca Da Rimini And Paolo Malatesta, c.1890 Love came to us in time gone by When one at twilight shyly played And one in fear was standing nigh – For Love at first is all afraid. We were grave lovers. Love is past That had his sweet hours many a one; Welcome to …
Arthur Lemon, The wooing of Daphnis, 1881 I scarce believe my love to be so pure As I had thought it was, Because it doth endure Vicissitude, and season, as the grass; Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring make’ it more. But if medicine, love, which cures …
Lucas Cranach, The fountain of Youth, 1546 That is no country for old men. The youngIn one another’s arms, birds in the trees,- Those dying generations – at their song,The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer longWhatever is begotten, born, and dies.Caught in that sensual music all neglectMonuments of unageing intellect.An …
William Butler Yeats – Verso Bisanzio / Sailing to Byzantium Read More »
Paris Bordone, Allegory with lovers, 1550 Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand’ring bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although his …
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