January 1, 2025 6:29 pm

Meeting Bench

WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Erika Sawajiri, Destination Nowhere

DESTINATION NOWHERE In a soundless desert, under the star filled sky, I raise up my head and look at it. This scenery will continue until where? And where will I walk to? I reach out my frozen hand to touch the light, before that imaginary star disappears. Take off to the sky,wind is crying, don’t be confused with what you …

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ALFRED SISLEY (1839/1899), ENGLISH PAINTER: All things breathe, into harmonious landscapes of light

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Edward Elgar, Salut d’Amour

SALUT D’AMOUR https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BSv3iApK3DQ&list=RDBSv3iApK3DQ#t=58

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WUTHERING HEIGHTS: Romance, by Emily Bronte

WUTHERING HEIGHTS This woman wrote a single novel, but Wuthering Heights offers you thousands of food for thought, in each of its pages. The suggestion, reading this novel, is to imagine it as a thoughtful and careful reflection on all facets of humanity. No, you will not read a love story any, but the interweaving of love inside the rooms …

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YOU SHOULD NON KNOW THE DESPAIR: Poetry, by Emily Bronte

YOU SHOULD NOT KNOW THE DESPAIR Should not you know despair, if the stars sparkle every night; If the dew falls silent at night, and the sun gilds the morning. Should not you know despair, though the tears to flow freely. Not the years most loved, forever in your heart? Cry, you cry, so it must be. The wind sighs …

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AUGUST MACKE (1887/1914), GERMAN PAINTER: The creative which also overlooks the Futurism

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STORIES OF SAINT FRANCIS: Cycle pictorial fresco, Upper Basilica in Assisi, Italy

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AMBROGIO LORENZETTI (1290/1348), ITALIAN PAINTER: The symbolic allegories, in paintings of profound humanity

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: ITALIAN RENAISSANCE MUSIC, Alle stamegne, donne!

ITALIAN RENAISSANCE MUSIC: Alle stamegne! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayKZZeUcvZI  

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THE DREAM OF THE HORSE: Collection of poems, Maria Teresa Santalucia Scibona

PALIO Vigil in the haze of the night, the heart of Barbaresco suspended. It invokes, in the off hours of sleep, the privilege of fate imponderable. On tuff crumbly, the incessant ritual recurs. They hate the bad quarters, and the dream of victory contention, with violent excitement. The proud spirit of the horse, it yearns in vain for the last …

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