Tuesday, 8 April 2008

mist




There was no airt or direction to guide one on one's way.
There was no place or time there, but one great, deep
stillness. The world was full of tenderness, under druidry
and under a cloak, and there was a fairy blindfolding on
my eyes in the smirry drizzle of mist.


Cha robh àird no iùl arm a stifiùreadh neach 'na ròd.
Cha robh àit no ùin' ann, ach aon chiùneas domhain, mòr.
Bha 'n saoghal Iàn de'n mhaoithe,
fo dhraoidheachd is fo chlèoc,
is bann-sithe air mo shùilean arms a' chiùran cheòban cheò.

6 comments:

  1. sounds a bit like a story from Marcovaldo (Calvino)!

    Love opens the eye of vision until the lover understands that
    "in evey stone there is glass
    in every glass-bottle a fairy."

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  2. top pictures! put me in mind of friedrich. good choice of poetry too...

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  3. thealtered page: thank you! that soft late afternoon hour was so beautiful, yes awe inspiring, that I could almost not take the pictures...

    b: let's go back to Novalis then: "It depends only on the weakness of our organs ... that we do not see ourselves in a Fairy-world. All Fabulous Tales are merely dreams of that home world, which is everywhere and nowhere."

    swiss: I'm glad you liked. did you know this poem? so mesmerizing... and can you read the Gaelic version? it looks impossible! :-)

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  4. it's a shame but as with so manyof these guys hay isn;t aswell read as he should be but that is changing.
    reading gaelic? has its problems! will stick upsome sound files on the blog

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  5. Wouaouh !!!! J'aime beaucoup, beaucoup.... un autre monde.

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