Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
German court official,
theatre director, novelist, scientist,
poet and dramatist,
died 22nd March 1832.
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Lookout's Song
Born with the power to watch and to see,
At home in my tower, this world pleases me.
I perceive things afar and I view what is near,
The moon and each star, the woods and the deer.
What I find in all these is a beauty innate;
Where everything pleases, I'm pleased with my fate.
These eyes have been lucky in all they have seen,
Whatever the ending, how grand it has been!
o-o-o-o
Spring Equinox in Colstey Woods.
by the pond
the lower path
o-o-o-o
Francis William Bourdillon
born 22nd March, 1852
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
yet the light of the bright world dies
with the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole world dies,
When love is done.
Thank you for sharing these beautiful poems - they speak straight to my soul...
ReplyDeleteJinksy, you got in before I could put my own 'come-clean' comment in.
ReplyDeleteI admit it, I did not take the Colstey Wood photos yesterday; it was the sort of weather my daughter calls 'grey underpants weather'. They were taken a few days ago, when the sun shone. For the Marches readers, now you know.
Thoughtful choice of poetry Friko. A certain tranquility in the photographs too. Perfect Sunday post.
ReplyDeleteGood poems that I had forgotten and very lovely photos. So make me want to be there!
ReplyDeleteLovely pictures! There's a kind of magic about a path disappearing into the distance.
ReplyDeleteHi Friko
ReplyDeleteonce again your pictures have a fairytale quality to them...I am not used to seeing misty pathways and moody woods...
I especially like the Goethe quote. 'Born with the power to watch and to see' has multiple meanings.
Happy days
wow the photographs are pure magic friko and the poem by bourdillon is a stunner!!! wow! steven
ReplyDeleteIntegrity in journalism is dying out, clearly. However, the poems were still nice to read - although there's something about rhyming couplets that seems too sprightly.
ReplyDeleteThe Lower Path could be a poem. I like that idea a lot.
PS When did you put up that Rate-me thing?? Hmm, I don't know what to think about that, not that it's any of my business. But, why?
ReplyDeleteMartin H - for me Sunday is still special too. It's a day for contemplation, (a good dinner) and a walk in the afternoon. Very old fashioned.
ReplyDeleteTabor - Colstey Wood is a magical place for a solitary walk, very quiet, very English, very muddy after rain, with steep climbs and red kites and goshawks overhead.
Vicki Lane - very fairytale-ish place altogether.
Delwyn - I have been thinking about poetry in translation, normally I don't like it and I don't like this translation very much either; whoever said "poetry is what gets lost in translation" was right.
steven - glad you like the post.
Deborah - Sorry, I never promised to be 100% truthful. Poems are tricky and very much a personal taste. As I said to Delwyn, I dislike poetry in translation. Even I can't do it. The two poets mentioned here appear because of their anniversaries.
UK Blog Directory is what it says. They recently changed their format to what you see here, instead of the tiny symbol they used to have. They have asked me to pay for mentioning them; as I won't, the symbol will soon disappear.
Deborah, why on earth am I explaining myself to you?
Dear Friko - I love the Goethe poem! Somehow I had not seen it before ... where have I been?
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing it!
Your 'stomping' grounds look so enticing.
"Whatever the ending, how grand it has been." I think I shall adopt that as my new motto! :)
I like both poems. Maybe because I am not such a connoisseur of poetry – I like poems which rhyme. At first glance going down the page I thought you had posted a painting. They are excellent photographs and go real well with the poems.
ReplyDeleteA soothing and contemplative post, leaving me in a soothed and contemplative mood.
ReplyDeleteLovely photo - whenever it was taken. I'm a sucker for misty paths!
ReplyDeleteVom Eise befreit sind Strom und Bäche
ReplyDeleteDurch des Frühlings holden, belebenden Blick,
Im Tale grünet Hoffnungsglück;
Der alte Winter, in seiner Schwäche,
Zog sich in rauhe Berge zurück.
Von dort her sendet er, fliehend, nur
Ohnmächtige Schauer körnigen Eises
In Streifen über die grünende Flur.
Einen schönen Sonntag noch , ich hoffe er hat seinem Namen alle Ehre erwiesen.
Ivy
I loved the poetic undercurrent of this post and I'm not just referring to the poems but the whole tone of your column. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Isn't there a song from the 1960s that goes, 'Cause the night has a thousand eyes,/ and a thousand eyes can't help but see,/ that you were made for me,/ so remember when you tell those little white lies/ that the night has a thousand eyes'? I'm just bashing that down from memory. Was it Gerry and the Pacemakers or someone like that? Anyway, now I know where they got the line!
ReplyDeleteI really like that poem, and your photos are a delight. (sorry I didn't comment on your letter to your mother post - hits too close to home for me.)
ReplyDeleteThis was a lovely little selection! I loved the first poem, never having read before.
ReplyDeleteFriko, I thank you for the poetry of this post. I also thank you for increasing my interest in someday visiting Ludlow. And, your post about your mother is one more post that tells me that you and I will definitely meet some day and have much to speak of. You express yourself much better than I do, but I also think that you'd be a very good listener.
ReplyDeletexo
Coltsey Woods takes me to another world where magic can happen. I would expect King Arthur to appear on the path.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reviving my imagination this morning.
Friko, you can weave magic with that camera of yours.
ReplyDeleteYou wouldn't believe how much Goethe provides memories for me...of a time, sigh, so beautiful, that ever since I do not dare to read him again.
ReplyDeleteThere's bench nearly like yours, in the forest, of the place, I do still call home.
Thank you for all these memories and feelings. A wonderful Wednesday for you.
Bonnie - If you can say that and mean it, at the end, how fortunate you will be.
ReplyDeleteVagabonde - whatever do you men, I see you publish poems frequently yourself. thank you for your comment about my photos.
June - good, my pleasure.
Pondside - me too, although here the mist was caused by sunshine filtering through the trees.
Ivy - Danke fuer deinen Besuch. Eins meiner Lieblingsgedichte fuer diese Jahreszeit, und gluecklicherweise ist es ja nun auch so weit.
A Cuban in London - thank you Cuban
Fran - I also remember the song, wasn't it really soppy and harmonious?
ReplyDeleteMark - thank you; I forgive you, that sort of post brings up painful memories for many.
Argent - poetry in translation - there's not a lot of it about, for obvious reasons.
Frances - thank you for scrolling back and catching up. I'll be seeing you!
Darlene - coming upon King Arthur might just slightly unsettle me. I am not that old!
SBS - thank you; I expect you know Colstey Wood? or at least a wood very like it.
robert - Wie schade; Goethe kann und muss man immer lesen, auch wenn er traurige Erinnerungen weckt.