A few December roses, still,
Roses, real roses, with little fragrance,
All petals, heavy, satiny petals.
It was important not to stop talking. For
The poem was still the poem, for
You couldn't do anything else
With your body.
Roses, real roses, with little fragrance,
All petals, heavy, satiny petals.
It was important not to stop talking. For
The poem was still the poem, for
You couldn't do anything else
With your body.
Henri Deluy, from Carnal Love
tr. Guy Bennett
tr. Guy Bennett
.
These roses are delicious, one would want to eat them.
ReplyDeleteAs for the poem, it is shaded by the roses.
Best shots compliments. Have a nice Cristmas
ReplyDeleteMorris
diese Bilder sind einfach wunderschön und sie strahlen einen warmen Frieden aus. Sie sind Stille und Entspannung, Schönheit der Gedanken und Oeffnen des Herzens. Sie sind wie der warme Frühlinswind, der dich erwartet am frühen Morgen, wenn das Leben erwacht...
ReplyDeleteEin stilles Lächeln sodann für Dich, liebe Roxana!
Herbstabend
Es liegt in der Klarheit der Herbstabende
ein anrührender, geheimnisvoller Reiz:
der unheilvolle Schimmer und die Färbung der Bäume,
der purpurnen Bäume mattes, leichtes Rascheln,
neblige und stille Himmelsbläue
über der traurig-verwaisten Erde
und, wie ein Vorgefühl aufkommender Stürme,
von Zeit zu Zeit ein böiger, kalter Wind,
Verlust, Erschöpfung - und auf allem
jenes sanfte Lächeln des Verwelkens,
das wir bei einem vernünftigen Wesen
die göttliche Schamheit des Leidens nennen.
(Fëdor Tjutcev - 1830)
There is a great delicacy and inventiveness in your compositions;
ReplyDeleteCongratulations!
" São rosas, senhor...são rosa..." dizia a Rainha Dª Isabel ao Rei D. Dinis de Portugal.
ReplyDeleteSão rosas dirá a Roxana...eu não acredito..
são muito mais que rosas...são impressões profundas do sentir...são impressões sempre profundas daquilo que nos vai transmitindo.
Sabe que eu gosto deste seu trabalho misto da imagem com a palavra.
Beijos, Adelino
I was only just taking in the exquisite chrysanthemum pictures now you unfold these satiny petals before me..
ReplyDeleteWonderful pictures and sentiment. I have a climbing rose that has taken over my back porch. It blossoms a blushing pink from spring into summer, and birds nest in it. Now, the flowers are like shriveled brown parchment, and I find it hard to clip them, they have their own somber charm. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteBEautiful Roxana who is always so so nice and such a enchanteress of light.
ReplyDeleteYou know well the bridge has always led me to dream far outreaching dreams that I have never dreamed before.
And todays dream interpretation that I have here must have some truth to it because I beleive that if a dream is dreamed it must contain some truth because dreams have to be founded on something.
anyway this is my dream. I love your winter roses the faded pink colors and red and the muted greens -I think of faded frozen dreams but the poem must go on the poet says the dream must go on even though you couldn't do anything else with your body, - you couldn't materialize the dream but the dream must go on.
So what if- here is my far reaching dream well all of nature has a tendency to extend itself fully as a green leaf extends itself to our far reaching star, yes only the impression of sunlight to create oxygen the breath of our lives and sugar our energy substance.
ReplyDeleteSo what if in our lives when we go to love or hate- an awfuldetail but it has to be thought of excuse me beautiful Roxana for this disturbance of the sphere but any passion any impression must be responded to with the extension of all of our being, nature demands that we extend ourselves fully,the impression of the moment demands this -birth and death is a thrust of the entire being
So what if as I began earlier {it is my nature to wonder) where in the hell was I anyway oh yes so if we must respond to a passion or any impression with our entire being is it possible in that moment in time to use only what is accessible in our life time in our consious mind, well what about the memories of our ancestors that cultivated frozen roses, what about the memories of ancient avalanches they are all part of our existence also,so how can we answer the call with existing reality -Well it is impossible so we must dream the impossible dream!
Well this is a far reaching but I enjoyed this dreaming so much here on the bridge.
Thanks for the masterpeice.
Enjoy the winter roses....
HUGS
Ces fleurs, délicatement livrées aux lecteurs avec la grâce et la bonté de ton coeur,
ReplyDeleteme font entrevoir tant de douceur, d'amour, de reconnaissance, données à un autre qui viendra ici regarder tes "images"...
Tu es une personne inestimable Roxana car tu as ce don et cette générosité à traverser le temps, les écrans et venir doucement t'installer chez moi pour y apporter quelques douceurs...
Merci pour ton message sur ma page...
Suffit-il de se connaître pour donner de l'amour, de la gentillesse, quelques mots qui disent simplement... Je ne te connais pas mais te souhaite le bonheur...
Rien que pour ça et uniquement pour tout ça... je t'embrasse Roxana et te souhaite tout l'amour à ton honneur, le bonheur et tant et tant de douceurs à glisser sur ta bouche, carresser tes épaules et embrasser tes joues...
Merci !
Bises,
jeff
stunning pictures, these roses so like the flesh of dreams, where time has taken hold in the body and speaks, this mingled longing to touch, to caress, with the consciousness that this is a vision, there is no such clarity elsewhere ....
ReplyDeleteRilke, from "Les Roses"
XXIII
Rose, venue très tard, que les nuits amères arrêtent
par leur trop sidérale clarté,
rose, devines-tu les faciles délices compètes
de tes soeurs d'été?
Pendant des jours et des jours je te vois qui hésites
dans ta gaine serrée trop fort.
Rose qui, en naissant à rebours imites
les lenteurs de la mort.
Ton innombrables état te fait-il connaître
dans un mélange où tout se confond,
cet ineffable accord du néant et de l'être
que nous ignorons?
Belle semaine chère Roxana,au retour au début de l'année-je te souhaite les merveilleuses réjouissances.
ReplyDeletebisous tendres et plein de joie,
Madeleine
Ces 2 dernières publications me ravissent, tu t'en doutes.
ReplyDeleteJe ne suis pas très présente ces temps-ci, j'en suis totalement navrée.
Merci pour tes visites, attendues et très appréciées !
Bises de flocons
K'line
These images are exquisite in their depth and as always, get one thinking along new lines coupled with the accompanying text. It has been intense crossing the Bridge that you have extended on this blog. It's been challenging, almost overwhelming, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I send you my warmest wishes for this holiday season and beyond as the journey continues.
ReplyDeleteThe fearsomeness of beauty aged.
ReplyDeleteThe fire reduced to withered embers.
The scent of ashes and dying roses.
What is that word on the tip of my tongue?
Prospero, who suffers from Daltonism (and other infernal affectations too numerous to mention on a floating bridge - non migratory bridges are, of course, another matter), can not distinguish between heart-stopping red and how-lush-is-your-island green. She, naturally, takes dichromatic photographs in these very colors. She, his most dearest, infuriates him. Let me start again. She infuriates him with porcelainlike flowers that bear a quiddity as qualifying as her inestimable charms (does she hear the fidgety echoes of Mr. Wilde?).
ReplyDeletethese last two - all kinds of beautiful!
ReplyDeleteDown in the orchard
ReplyDeleteI met my death
under the briar rose
I lie slain
I was going
to gather flowers
my love waited
among the trees
Down in the orchard
I met my death
under the briar rose
I lie slain
the leaves glint in the wind
turning their quiet song
the wings flash and are still
I sleep in the shade
when I cried out you
made no reply
tonight I shall pass
without a sound
If the night is dark
and the way is short
if the way you take
is to my heart
say though I never
see you again
touch me I shall shiver
at the unseen
the night is so dark
the way so short
yet you do not wake
against my heart
emptiness ever thronging
untenable belonging
how long until this longing
end is unending song
and soul for soul discover
no strangeness to discover
and lover keep with lover
a moment and for ever
I shall live
in grief desiring
still to grieve
I shall go down to the lover's well
and wash this wound that will not heal
beloved soul
what shall you see
nothing at all
yet eye to eye
---G. Hill
La rose il maque la neige. Je te souhaite R.o.x.a.n.a un joyeux noël dans la paix ainsi ta famille.
ReplyDeleteJe t'embrasse.
superbe post traitement.
ReplyDeleteRoxana..
ReplyDeletemerci pour ces roses de décembre,et les autres aussi:) ,elles illuminent ma mémoire.. elles me rappellent toute la splendide lumière qu'il a fallut pour qu'elles grandissent..
j'aime les fleurs ,jeunes ,fortes, vigoureuses, j'ai aussi une infinie tendresse pour les fleurs fanées ,fragiles ,attendrissantes,celles qui au moindre effleurement perdront ce qu'il leur reste de splendeurs..robes diaphanes froissées par le froid..
je t'envoie de doux baisers de Noel,parfumés et fleuris..
je pense a toi..
i'd like to thank you all from my heart, dear friends, for every Bridge visit and for every word you've left here, for taking in, as i did, the sad beauty of these frosted chrysanthemums, these fading roses.
ReplyDeletei want to apologize for not being able to answer personally, unfortunately i have a very bad cold at the moment which makes me unable to spend much time in front of the computer.
i wish to thank you all Merry Christmas and wonderful, relaxing and enriching days to come...
warmest hugs for you all!
je m'excuse cheres amies et chers amis, de ne pouvoir pas repondre personnellement a vos mots qui m'ont touche tant, si pleins de coeur et de douceur, de chaleur et de sensibilite...
ReplyDeletemalheureusement j'ai attrape un mauvais rhume et je ne suis pas capable de passer beaucoup de temps devant l'ordinateur.
je vous embrasse et vous souhaite un heureux Noel, plein de lumiere et de joie, avec vos familles et tous ceux qui vous sont chers...
get well soon!
ReplyDeleteb.
Wow. Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteChère Roxana...
ReplyDeleteAm so slow getting here...
May your cold get better quickly. I think all of Europe is suffering from a bad cold, so you are not alone, not alone at all.
The kindness and warmth you inspire though comes shining through in all the comments here. I can only echo the sense of magic I feel every time I come to the foot of the Floating Bridge, and gaze at the visions which appear there.
These roses are sublime, quiet grey beauty setting off the dense, intense remaining color, the color of blood, the color of love, the color of loss, the color of hope, that love will come again. That Spring will return and with her bring new colors to light up our lives...
Wishing you the happiest of holidays, full of all that is good in life, time with your loved ones.
I raise my glass to you, to your health, to your glowing soul...
satiny colours ...
ReplyDeletePrends soin de toi...
ReplyDeleteBises
There have been some Decembers where a few roses stayed in the garden. I posted a poem I wrote about a December Rose last year. It is here if you would like to read it. Your rose images really to remind me of what I was trying to convey in the poem....
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful.
ReplyDelete