November 11, 2024 10:25 pm

THE TUSCAN LANDSCAPE – A set in the open air where they continue to be born all forms of expression

Talking about Tuscany https://www.discovertuscany.com/tourist-info/ inevitably, your mind turns to rural landscapes, the ones where untouched countryside have created, through the centuries, a unique territory. Observing the unbroken series of hills and cultivated fields, vineyards and olive groves you distinguish everywhere the eye could see. Every hill preserves, even for you, the memory of castles and medieval villages. Those fascinating views …

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BETWEEN RIVERS OF BEER AND FRAGRANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES – Ceske Budejovice / South Bohemia: where even the marble cherubs love beer

Only when you get to “Na Sadech” – a street lined with trees and lawns – you realize that “stare mesto of this city of Southern Bohemia is before you, with its relaxed and cosmopolitan soul. No more silver mines and even salt traffic, but rivers of good beer “Budvar”, better known by its German name “Budweiser”. The Tourist Office …

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TIME LOVERS – Poetry, by FrantiÅ¡ek Hrubín

TIME LOVERS You on the finger you wrapped straw, there on the finger, where you dreamed a gold ring. I still conversed with the sun, and you already were becoming pale in the moonlight. Behind us, suddenly he began to rustle. And you had laid the shadow head, on its leaves. Hair after the hair, by it took you. It …

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A PRAYER IN SPRING – Poetry, by Robert Frost

A PRAYER IN SPRING Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day; and give us not to think so far away, as the uncertain harvest; keep us here all simply in the springing of the year. Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white, like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night; And make us happy in the happy …

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SPRING AND WINTER – Poetry, by William Shakespeare

SPRING AND WINTER When daisies pied and violets blue, and lady-smocks all silver-white, and cuckoo-buds of yellow hue do paint the meadows with delight, the cuckoo then, on every tree, mocks married men; for thus sings he, cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo! O word of fear, unpleasing to a married ear! When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, and merry larks are ploughmen’s …

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SPRING SONG – Poetry, by Robert Louis Stevenson

SPRING SONG The air was full of sun and birds, the fresh air sparkled clearly. Remembrance wakened in my heart, and I knew I loved her dearly. The fallows and the leafless trees, and all my spirit tingled. My earliest thought of love, and Spring’s first puff of perfume mingled. In my still heart the thoughts awoke, came lone by …

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I HAVE A BIRD IN SPRING – Poetry, by Emily Dickinson

I HAVE A BIRD IN SPRING I have a Bird in spring, which for myself doth sing. The spring decoys. And as the summer nears. And as the Rose appears, Robin is gone. Yet do I not repine, knowing that Bird of mine though flown. Learneth beyond the sea, melody new for me, and will return. Fast is a safer …

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SLOW SPRING – Poetry, by Katharine Tynan

SLOW SPRING O year, grow slowly. Exquisite, holy, the days go on with almonds showing the pink stars blowing, and birds in the dawn. Grow slowly, year, like a child that is dear, or a lamb that is mild, by little steps, and by little skips, like a lamb or a child. (Katharine Tynan)

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TO THE SPRING, Poetry, by Friedrich Schiller

TO THE SPRING Welcome, gentle Stripling, nature’s darling thou! With thy basket full of blossoms, a happy welcome now! Aha! And thou returnest, heartily we greet thee. The loving and the fair one, merrily we meet thee! Think’st thou of my maiden, in thy heart of glee? I love her yet, the maiden. And the maiden yet loves me! For …

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TO SPRING – Poetry, by William Blake

TO SPRING Sound the flute! Now it’s mute! Bird’s delight, Day and night, nightingale, in the dale, lark in sky. Merrily, merrily merrily, to welcome in the year. Little boy, full of joy; Little girl, sweet and small; Cock does crow, so do you; Merry voice, infant noise; Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year. Little lamb, here I am; …

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THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD – Poetry, by Dorothy Porter

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD It was one of those beautiful English summer nights, when levitating on the moonshine of a moonlit world was your entranced lucky fate. The lilac shimmer of silent lakes. The whisper of ghost fox through your heartbeat. But the toad in the hand stank real. Stank through his palpitating skin. Stank of fear. Is the fabled …

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DEPICTING LONELINESS AND ISOLATION – George Russel Drysdale: shades of abstract and surrealistic art

GEORGE RUSSELL DRYSDALE 1/3 – George Russell Drysdale was born in Bognor Regis (Sussex, England), and its family settled in Melbourne, Australia. A chance encounter an with artist and critic awakened him to the possibility of a career as an artist. He studied in Melbourne and made trips to Europe. By the time of his return, leaving Melbourne for Albury, …

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