Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta Emily Dickinson. Mostrar todas as mensagens
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta Emily Dickinson. Mostrar todas as mensagens

terça-feira, 8 de novembro de 2011

One-minute poetry

            "I robbed the Woods" by Emily Dickinson

I robbed the Woods—
The trusting Woods.
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and mosses
My fantasy to please.
I scanned their trinkets curious—I grasped—I bore away—
What will the solemn Hemlock—
What will the  Oak tree say?


Image

quarta-feira, 2 de fevereiro de 2011

Leituras em dia


Emily Dickinson - "A Book"

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
 Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!





Edward Hopper, Compartment C, Car 293, 1938
Oil on canvas, 20 x 18 in.
IBM Corporation, Armonk, New York

sexta-feira, 30 de julho de 2010

Summer days, summer nights, summer stars


Quanto mais o tempo passa, mais aprecio as noites de Verão e o céu que as acompanha.

Costumo associar a poesia à imagem, mas hoje inclino-me para uma experiência mais englobante.

Apetece-me abrir os olhos, fechar os olhos e sentir o som da noite, na suave aragem que finalmente por aqui passa. Carl Sandburg e Emily Dickinson podem ter esse efeito.




To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie --
True Poems flee --

To see the Summer Sky
by Emily Dickinson


Encontrado aqui  
   
                                                                                                  
BEND low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,         
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
So lazy and hum-strumming.

Summer Stars
by Carl Sandburg
                                                        Vincent van Gogh,
The Cafe Terrace on the Place du Forum, Arles, 1888



Bobbi Humphrey, Blacks and Blues

quarta-feira, 17 de junho de 2009

A Deer in the City


"A Wounded Deer - leaps highest"

A Wounded Deer - leaps highest -
I've heard the Hunter tell -
'Tis but the Ecstasy of death -
And then the Brake is still!
~~~
The Smitten Rock that gushes!
The trampled Steel that springs!
A Cheek is always redder
Just where the Hectic stings!
~~~
Mirth is the Mail of Anguish
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "you're hurt" exclaim!

by Emily Dickinson
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Sometimes street art is just what it is: doodles and vandalism. And sometimes it's just there and it makes sense. This "deer" isn't famous and there isn't a leading graffiti artist behind it. Still, I expect the “deer turned tree” to leap over fences and gates. It looks so restraint and yet it conveys an inexplicable energy and force.
Delicate yet powerful. Fragile yet unstoppable.