oh, that last picture, holiness breathes in that fire, in that light -
(and because i know you translate Blaga but most of all because it fits perfectly :-)
Odă simplisimei flori
de Lucian Blaga
Păpădie, ecumenică floare, după a ta aurie ardoare – pe nescrisele file – anul îşi hotăreşte fericitele zile.
De un pean te-nvredniceşti, tu, neluată în seamă, floare de rând. Sămânţă să faci pe pământ e tot ce doreşti. Alt gând nu porţi. Dar înfloreşti şi asfinţeşti alcătuind o aureolă de sfânt.
Gigi: I don't understand, either. I guess it has something to do with a sense of order (where I am definitely lacking) and the desire to put nature in its place. But I always have a little twinge of guilt when I cut their heads off with the mower.
Roxana: Thank you for the beautiful poem. Blaga becomes more and more important to me -- and, yes, it is almost as if he has seen the post and written :-)
I think I understand, mostly -- I'm still shocked that I understand at all -- except for a couple of lines.... I'll work on them, and come back with a translation....
Anne: Merci. Cette photo en noir et blanc est ma favorite, aussi. Ce printemps-ci, c’est la saison quand nous parlons des pissenlits, toi et moi…. J’aime bien ceux que tu as trouvés à Limousin!
Sorlil: You really say "dandelion clocks"!! I'd never heard that before. It isn't in my Webster's -- but google (the ultimate linguistic authority) confirms it as British usage.... One of your functions here, you know, is teaching me English :-) And this is so evocative. You can expect "dandelion clocks" to show up in a poem....
I'm gobsmacked you've never heard of it :) In case you don't know, from childhood we call them pee-in-the-beds and probably only here in Scotland it is custom to snap their heads off whilst singing 'Mary Queen of Scots got her head chopped off'!
Sorlil: I knew they were called that -- it's the same in French, "pisse-en-lit" -- but I had no idea about the Mary Queen of Scots bit :-) I'm accumulating quite a store of dandelion folklore....
Only where there is language is there world. --Martin Heidegger
-----
The word that fits would mime the genesis. --Michel Deguy
-----
Translate
Orpheus. Eurydice. Hermes.
... that a whole world of lament arose, in which
all nature reappeared: forest and valley,
road and village, field and stream and animal;
and that around this lament-world, even as
around the other earth, a sun revolved
and a silent, star-filled heaven, a lament-
heaven, with its own, disfigured stars ...
Ein Klage-Himmel, "a lament-heaven," from Rilke's "Orpheus. Eurydike. Hermes." Poetry's post-rupture, post-lapsus, post-death-of-Eurydice dream of recreating that primal world -- Eden, childhood, Orpheus's singing -- where word and thing were one.
22 comments:
dandelions are dreamy...
love them especially the last two shots
Wonderful shots, James. I love dandelions. I never understand why so many people hate them.
hé hé James, toi aussi tu aimes les pissenlits ;-)
très jolies photos !
amitié et bises.
oh, that last picture, holiness breathes in that fire, in that light -
(and because i know you translate Blaga but most of all because it fits perfectly :-)
Odă simplisimei flori
de Lucian Blaga
Păpădie, ecumenică floare,
după a ta aurie ardoare
– pe nescrisele file –
anul îşi hotăreşte fericitele zile.
De un pean te-nvredniceşti,
tu, neluată în seamă, floare de rând.
Sămânţă să faci pe pământ
e tot ce doreşti. Alt gând nu porţi.
Dar înfloreşti şi asfinţeşti
alcătuind o aureolă de sfânt.
Your shots are amazing. I have to say I prefer them in pictures than in real life, make me sneeze!
beautiful
Magnifiques! J'aime particulièrement la photo en noir et blanc.
Merci, James, et bonne semaine!
Anne
Lissa: Thank you. They are one of my favorite flowers. Maybe that says more about me than about dandelions, though....
Gigi: I don't understand, either. I guess it has something to do with a sense of order (where I am definitely lacking) and the desire to put nature in its place. But I always have a little twinge of guilt when I cut their heads off with the mower.
Lady Jo: Merci, et bises à toi.
Roxana: Thank you for the beautiful poem. Blaga becomes more and more important to me -- and, yes, it is almost as if he has seen the post and written :-)
I think I understand, mostly -- I'm still shocked that I understand at all -- except for a couple of lines.... I'll work on them, and come back with a translation....
Colleen: Thank you. I hope the sight hasn't triggered an allergic reaction!! :-)
I'd never journeyed inside a dandelion until now ...
Aripri: Mulțumesc. Voi vizita blogul tău îndată….
Anne: Merci. Cette photo en noir et blanc est ma favorite, aussi. Ce printemps-ci, c’est la saison quand nous parlons des pissenlits, toi et moi…. J’aime bien ceux que tu as trouvés à Limousin!
Susan: Thank you for coming along on this journey....
I love them... except when they are in my yard, but luckily, my dogs trample them. :-) LOL
Can never walk past dandelion clocks, a childish love of destruction!! Love the last photo.
Sorlil: You really say "dandelion clocks"!! I'd never heard that before. It isn't in my Webster's -- but google (the ultimate linguistic authority) confirms it as British usage.... One of your functions here, you know, is teaching me English :-) And this is so evocative. You can expect "dandelion clocks" to show up in a poem....
I'm gobsmacked you've never heard of it :) In case you don't know, from childhood we call them pee-in-the-beds and probably only here in Scotland it is custom to snap their heads off whilst singing 'Mary Queen of Scots got her head chopped off'!
Sorlil: I knew they were called that -- it's the same in French, "pisse-en-lit" -- but I had no idea about the Mary Queen of Scots bit :-) I'm accumulating quite a store of dandelion folklore....
These are fantastic! The bottom one is a mind blower!
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