Posts Tagged: Love

Eros and Psyche

On Valentine’s day and on Ash Wednesday. Eros meets Psyche.

Love comes to the Soul and the soul starts a difficult journey

Cupid embracing Psyche, painted Terracotta bust, 3rd – 2nd B.C.E British Museum Photo Margot Krebs Neale

Un cadeau qui vient du cœur

We do not know where you are going

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

John 14:5

Serge et Henninge

#happyvalentinesday

Not anyone who says, "I'm going to be
careful and smart in the matters of love,"
who says, "I'm going to choose slowly,"
but only those lovers who didn't choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible
and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable--
only those know what I'm talking about
in this talking about love.

Mary Oliver

Da neigt sich die Stunde und rührt mich an

Da neigt sich die Stunde und rührt mich an

Da neigt sich die Stunde und rührt mich an
mit klarem, metallenem Schlag:
mir zittern die Sinne. Ich fühle: ich kann -
und ich fasse den plastischen Tag.

Nichts war noch vollendet, eh ich es erschaut,
ein jedes Werden stand still.
Meine Blicke sind reif, und wie eine Braut
kommt jedem das Ding, das er will.

Nichts ist mir zu klein, und ich lieb es trotzdem
und mal es auf Goldgrund und groß
und halte es hoch, und ich weiß nicht wem
löst es die Seele los...

Rainer Maria Rilke, 20.9.1899,
Berlin-Schmargendorf

The hour is striking

The hour is striking so close above me,
so clear and sharp,
that all my senses ring with it.
I feel it now: there’s a power in me
to grasp and give shape to my world.

I know that nothing has ever been real
without my beholding it.
All my becoming has needed me.
My looking ripens things
and they come toward me, to meet and be met
...

–Rilke’s Book of Hours
(translated by Johanna Macy & Anita Barrows)

Another translation this time by Fulicasenia

Then bends down the hour and strikes me...

Then bends down the hour and strikes me
With a clear, metallic blow:
My senses tremble: I feel: I can--
And I grasp the ductile day.

Nothing was yet completed, before I glimpsed it;
Every becoming stood still.
My gaze is ripe, and like a bride
There comes to each one that which he will.

Nothing is too small for me and I love it nonetheless
And paint it on a golden ground and large,
And hold it high, and I don't know for whom
It will set the spirit free...

Jardin intérieur

margot krebs nealeimg_5630sgsm

A song and its music set to photographs

Ragged Light Of The Evening
Malcolm Guite

I could make a bonfire of our vanity
Wouldn’t smoke out your memory
Something’s alight at the heart of that fire
You walk towards me through the ghosts of desire.

Hidden hearts still call to each other
But when you fall there's no return
If I ever learn to call you my lover
I do believe my tongue would burn.

You changed like an angel on the edge of my sight
The gift of your love was just a trick of the light
I still feel your touch in the shimmering rain
I'd rather be buried than feel that again.

Yes I brought you everything I believed in
Only to find the god withdrawn
I let you love me in the ragged light of the evening
But I loved you in the whisky light of dawn.

We walked together to the very edge
We kicked aside the last minute bridge
For all the years we've both fallen through
I still tremble on that brink with you.

Hidden hearts still call out to each other
But when you fall there's no return
If I ever learn to call you my lover
I do believe my tongue would burn.

You can tone down the colours, you can fade it to grey
You can move to the border where time fades away
Bury the feelings, scrub out the stain
In the blink of an eye it’s vivid again.

I brought you everything I believed in
Only to find the god withdrawn
I let you love me in the ragged light of the evening
And leave me in the whisky light of dawn.

From the album "The Green Man and other songs"
Copyright © Malcolm Guite 2007
Cambridge Riffs Records
www.cambridgeriffs.co.uk/records

Father’s Day

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Dieu vous garde et vous bénisse