lunes, 29 de diciembre de 2014

Poetry: Li Qingzhao - Tz'u No. 1 - No. 10 (Exile) - No. 11 - No. 12 - Links to more LQ







Tz'u No. 1

To the tune "Courtyard Filled with Fragrance"

Fragrant grass beside the pond
green shade over the hall
a clear cold comes through
the window curtains
crescent moon beyond the golden bars
and a flute sounds
as if someone were coming
but alone on my mat with a cup
gazing sadly into nothingness
I want to call back
the blackberry flowers
that have fallen
though pear blossoms remain
for in that distant year
I came to love their fresh fragrance
scenting my sleeve
as we culled petals over the fire
when as far as the eye could see
were dragon boats on the river
graceful horses and gay carts
when I did not fear the mad winds
and violent rain
as we drank to good fortune
with warm blackberry wine
now I cannot conceive
how to retrieve that time.



Tz'u No. 10 (Exile)

To the tune of "Bodhisattva Aliens"

Soft breezes, mild sunshine,
spring is still young.
The sudden change of the light
brightened my spirit.

But upon awakening from slumber,
I felt the chill air;
The plum flower withered in my hair.

Where can I call my native land?
Forget - I cannot, except in wine
when I drown my care.

Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;
Though the embers are now cold,
the warmth of wine still burns on.




Tz'u No. 11

To the tune of "Lamentation"

It was far into the night when, intoxicated,
I took off my ornaments;
The plum flower withered in my hair.

Recovered from tipsiness,
the lingering smell of wine
broke my fond dream
before my dreaming soul could find
my way home.

All is quiet.
The moon lingers,
And the emerald screen hangs low.
I caress the withered flower,
Fondle the fragrant petals,
Trying to bring back the lost time.




Tz'u No. 12

To the tune of "Happy Event Is Nigh"

The wind ceases; fallen flowers pile high.
Outside my screen, petals collect in heaps of red
and snow-white.

This reminds me that after the blooming
of the cherry-apple tree
It is time to lament the dying spring.

Singing and drinking have come to an end;
jade cups are empty;
Lamps are flickering.

Hardly able to bear the sorrows and regrets
of my dreams,
I hear the mournful cry of the cuckoo. 




Links









Poetry: Li Qingzhao - Tz'u No. 1 - No. 10 (Exile) - No. 11 - No. 12 - Links to more LQ






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Poesia: Blanca Varela - Mascara de algun Dios - Monsieur Monod no sabe cantar - Links a mas poemas de BV





Máscara de algún Dios

Frente a mí ese rostro lunar.
Nariz de plata, pájaros en la frente.

¿Pájaros en la frente?

Y luego hay rojo
y todo lo que la tierra olvida.
Humedad con poderes de fuego
floreciendo tras las negras pestañas.
Un rostro en la pared.
Detrás del muro, más allá de toda voluntad,
más lejos todavía que mirar y callar:
¿qué?

¿Siempre hay algo que romper, abolir o temer?
¿Y al otro lado? ¿Al revés?

Vuela la mano, nace la ínea,
vibrante destino, negro destino.
Por un instante la melodía es clara,
parece eterna la tarde,
purísima la sombra del cielo.

Vuelvo otra vez . Pregunto.
Tal vez ese silencio dice algo,
es una inmensa letra que nos nombra y contiene
en su aire profundo.
Tal vez la muerte detrás de esa sonrisa
sea amor, un gigantesco amor
en cuyo centro ardemos.

Tal vez el otro lado existe
y es también la mirada
y todo esto es lo otro
y aquello esto
y somos una forma que cambia con la luz
hasta ser sólo luz, sólo sombra.





Monsieur Monod no sabe cantar

querido mío
te recuerdo como la mejor canción
esa apoteosis de gallos y estrellas que ya no eres
que ya no soy que ya no seremos
y sin embargo muy bien sabemos ambos
que hablo por la boca pintada del silencio
con agonía de mosca
al final del verano
y por todas las puertas mal cerradas
conjurando o llamando ese viento alevoso de la memoria
ese disco rayado antes de usarse
teñido según el humor del tiempo
y sus viejas enfermedades
o de rojo
o de negro
como un rey en desgracia frente al espejo
el día de la víspera
y mañana y pasado y siempre

noche que te precipitas
(así debe decir la canción)
cargada de presagios
perra insaciable ( un peu fort)
madre espléndida (plus doux)
paridora y descalza siempre
para no ser oída por el necio que en ti cree
para mejor aplastar el corazón
del desvelado
que se atreve a oír el arrastrado paso
de la vida
a la muerte
un cuesco de zancudo un torrente de plumas
una tempestad en un vaso de vino
un tango

el orden altera el producto
error del maquinista
podrida técnica seguir viviendo tu historia
al revés como en el cine
un sueño grueso
y misterioso que se adelgaza
the end is the beginning
una lucecita vacilante como la esperanza
color clara de huevo
con olor a pescado y mala leche
oscura boca de lobo que te lleva
de Cluny al Parque Salazar
tapiz rodante tan veloz y tan negro
que ya no sabes
si eres o te haces el vivo
o el muerto
y sí una flor de hierro
como un último bocado torcido y sucio y lento
para mejor devorarte

querido mío
adoro todo lo que no es mío
tú por ejemplo
con tu piel de asno sobre el alma
y esas alas de cera que te regalé
y que jamás te atreviste a usar
no sabes cómo me arrepiento de mis virtudes
ya no sé qué hacer con mi colección de ganzúas
y mentiras
con mi indecencia de niño que debe terminar este cuento
ahora ya es tarde
porque el recuerdo como las canciones
la peor la que quieras la única
no resiste otra página en blanco
y no tiene sentido que yo esté aquí
destruyendo
lo que no existe

querido mío
a pesar de eso
todo sigue igual
el cosquilleo filosófico después de la ducha
el café frío el cigarrillo amargo el Cieno Verde
en el Montecarlo
sigue apta para todos la vida perdurable
intacta la estupidez de las nubes
intacta la obscenidad de los geranios
intacta la vergüenza del ajo
los gorrioncitos cagándose divinamente en pleno cielo
de abril
Mandrake criando conejos en algún círculo
del infierno
y siempre la patita de cangrejo atrapada
en la trampa del ser
o del no ser
o de no quiero esto sino lo otro
tú sabes
esas cosas que nos suceden
y que deben olvidarse para que existan
verbigracia la mano con alas
y sin mano
la historia del canguro -aquella de la bolsa o la vida-
o la del capitán encerrado en la botella
para siempre vacía
y el vientre vacío pero con alas
y sin vientre
tú sabes
la pasión    la obsesión
la poesía    la prosa
el sexo       el éxito
o viceversa
el vacío congénito
el huevecillo moteado
entre millones y millones de huevecillos moteados
tú y yo
you and me
toi et moi
tea for two en la inmensidad del silencio
en el mar intemporal
en el horizonte de la historia
porque ácido ribonucleico somos
pero ácido ribonucleico enamorado siempre
 









Poesia: Blanca Varela - Mascara de algun Dios - Monsieur Monod no sabe cantar - Links a mas poemas de BV






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Mis blogs son una casa abierta a todas las culturas, religiones y países. Se un seguidor si quieres, con esta acción usted está construyendo una nueva cultura de la tolerancia, la mente y el corazón abiertos para la paz, el amor y el respeto humano. Gracias:)



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Music: Paolo Fresu - Dhafer Youssef - Eivind Aarset - Il Settimo - Jazz - Links




Dhafer Youssef 

video

Paolo Fresu - Dhafer Youssef - Eivind Aarset - Il Settimo



Paolo Fresu


Eivind Aarset




Links
Music: Dhafer Youssef - Suraj








Music: Paolo Fresu - Dhafer Youssef - Eivind Aarset - Il Settimo - Jazz - Links






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My blogs are an open house to all cultures, religions and countries. Be a follower if you like it, with this action you are building a new culture of tolerance, open mind and heart for peace, love and human respect. Thanks :)


Mis blogs son una casa abierta a todas las culturas, religiones y países. Se un seguidor si quieres, con esta acción usted está construyendo una nueva cultura de la tolerancia, la mente y el corazón abiertos para la paz, el amor y el respeto humano. Gracias:)



(::)


domingo, 28 de diciembre de 2014

Poetry: Czeslaw Milosz - Incatation - Ars Poetica? - At a Certain Age - Links







Incantation

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.
It establishes the universal ideas in language,
And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice
With capital letters, lie and oppression with small.
It puts what should be above things as they are,
Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope.
It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master,
Giving us the estate of the world to manage.
It saves austere and transparent phrases
From the filthy discord of tortured words.
It says that everything is new under the sun,
Opens the congealed fist of the past.
Beautiful and very young are Philo-Sophia
And poetry, her ally in the service of the good.
As late as yesterday Nature celebrated their birth,
The news was brought to the mountains by a unicorn and an echo.
Their friendship will be glorious, their time has no limit.
Their enemies have delivered themselves to destruction.



Ars Poetica?

I have always aspired to a more spacious form
that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose
and would let us understand each other without exposing
the author or reader to sublime agonies.

In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent:
a thing is brought forth which we didn't know we had in us,
so we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out
and stood in the light, lashing his tail.

That's why poetry is rightly said to be dictated by a daimonion,
though its an exaggeration to maintain that he must be an angel.
It's hard to guess where that pride of poets comes from,
when so often they're put to shame by the disclosure of their frailty.

What reasonable man would like to be a city of demons,
who behave as if they were at home, speak in many tongues,
and who, not satisfied with stealing his lips or hand,
work at changing his destiny for their convenience?

It's true that what is morbid is highly valued today,
and so you may think that I am only joking
or that I've devised just one more means
of praising Art with thehelp of irony.

There was a time when only wise books were read
helping us to bear our pain and misery.
This, after all, is not quite the same
as leafing through a thousand works fresh from psychiatric clinics.

And yet the world is different from what it seems to be
and we are other than how we see ourselves in our ravings.
People therefore preserve silent integrity
thus earning the respect of their relatives and neighbors.

The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.

What I'm saying here is not, I agree, poetry,
as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly,
under unbearable duress and only with the hope
that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their 




At a Certain Age

We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers.
White clouds refused to accept them, and the wind
Was too busy visiting sea after sea.
We did not succeed in interesting the animals.
Dogs, disappointed, expected an order,
A cat, as always immoral, was falling asleep.
A person seemingly very close
Did not care to hear of things long past.
Conversations with friends over vodka or coffee
Ought not be prolonged beyond the first sign of boredom.
It would be humiliating to pay by the hour
A man with a diploma, just for listening.
Churches. Perhaps churches. But to confess there what?
That we used to see ourselves as handsome and noble
Yet later in our place an ugly toad
Half-opens its thick eyelid
And one sees clearly: "That's me."







Poetry: Czeslaw Milosz - Incatation - Ars Poetica? - At a Certain Age - Links






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Mis blogs son una casa abierta a todas las culturas, religiones y países. Se un seguidor si quieres, con esta acción usted está construyendo una nueva cultura de la tolerancia, la mente y el corazón abiertos para la paz, el amor y el respeto humano. Gracias:)



(::)


Botany - Botanica: Abelia - Data - Links



Abelia Chinensis


Abelia Chinensis


Abelia Grandiflora


Abelia Grandiflora




Abelia  Confetti 


Abelia  Confetti 


Abelia  Confetti 


Abelia  Confetti 

Abelia /əˈbiːliə/[1] is a genus of about 15-30 species and many hybrids in the honeysuckle family Caprifoliaceae. Some authors, including the Angiosperm Phylogeny Group, consider Abelia and related genera to belong instead in the segregate family Linnaeaceae, also including such genera as Linnaea, Abelia, Dipelta, Kolkwitzia, and Zabelia, but not such others as Lonicera or Symphoricarpos, included by them instead in a more narrowly viewed Caprifoliaceae.

Abelias are shrubs from 1–6 m tall, native to eastern Asia (Japan west to the Himalaya) and southern North America (Mexico); the species from warm climates are evergreen, and colder climate species deciduous. The leaves are opposite or in whorls of three, ovate, glossy, dark green, 1.5–8 cm long, turning purplish-bronze to red in autumn in the deciduous species. The flowers appear in the upper leaf axils and stem ends, 1-8 together in a short cyme; they are pendulous, white to pink, bell-shaped with a five-lobed corolla, 1–5 cm long, and usually scented. Flowering continues over a long and continuous period from late spring to fall.

Type species of this genus is Abelia chinensis. The generic name commemorates Clarke Abel, a keen naturalist who accompanied Lord Amherst's unsuccessful embassy to China in 1816 as surgeon, under the sponsorship of Sir Joseph Banks. All of Abel's seeds and plants were lost in a shipwreck on the homeward voyage, however; living plants of Abelia chinensis were first imported to England in 1844 by Robert Fortune, who introduced A. uniflora the following year.[2]

The showy semi-hardy Mexican A. floribunda of the Cordillera of Oaxaca was introduced to English horticulture in 1841.[3]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abelia

Abelia Caleidoscope


Abelia Caleidoscope


Abelia Chinensis


Abelia Chinensis


Abelia Chinensis

Abelia es un género de unas 70 especies descritas, de las cuales unas 30 están aceptadas, de arbustos pertenecientes a la familia Caprifoliaceae.1

Descripción

Son arbustos caducifolios o semi-caducifolios, de hasta 4 m de altura, muy ramificados con ramas periféricas extendidas y algo arqueadas/pendulas, de hojas opuestas -o verticiladas por 3 a 5 en las ramas centrales erectas- cortamente pecioladas, de margen entero o ligeramente dentado o crenato-dentado. Las flores son axilares o terminales, solitarias o por grupos de hasta 3. Las 4-6 brácteas son pequeñas y no acrescentes. Los sépalos, en número de 2-5, son generalmente extendidos, estrechamente oblongo-elípticos o agudos, con o sin pelos y persistentes. La corola es penta-lobulada, con tubo cilíndrico o acampanado, bilabiada o no, de color blanco, amarillo, rosa o rojo. Los estambres dídinamos estén próximos al tubo de la corola, incluidos en esta o algo salientes, con anteras hasta el interior. El ovario es estrechamente oblongo, tri-locular -con 2 lóculos de 2 series de óvulos estériles, y un lóculo de un único óvulo fértil- con estilo filiforme y estigmas cabezudos, blancos. El fruto es un aquenio coriáceo coronado por los sépalos persistentes del cáliz.2

http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abelia
 
Abelia Mosanensis


Abelia Mosanensis


Abelia Mosanensis





Links
Especies – Species

Ginkgo Biloba
Orchard - Zapallo
Vaccinium
Vainilla – Vanilla
Valeriana
Vancouveria
Vanda
Veltheimia
Venegasia carpesioides
Verbascum
Verbena
Verbesina
Vernonia
Verónica
Veronicastrum
Viburnum
Vicia
Victoria
Vinca
Viola
Vuylstekeara
Wisteria
Zantedeschia
Zinnia
Zygopetalum
Fungus – Hongos
Agaricus
Agrocybe
Botany: Fungus. Hongos. Funji: Agrocybe  
Aleuria Aurantia
Amanita
Armillaria
Boletus
Cantharellus
Chroogomphus
Chrysomphalina
Clavariadelphus
Clavulina
Clitocybe
Clitopilus
Collybia
Coltricia
Conocybe
Coprinus
Cortinarius
Craterellus
Crepidotus
Crucibulum
Fomitopsis
Morchella
Suillus
Tricholona
Various - Varios
Various - Varios
Botany: Bonsai Part 3





Botany - Botanica: Abelia - Data - Links






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enviar materiales para publicar,
propuestas comerciales:
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My blogs are an open house to all cultures, religions and countries. Be a follower if you like it, with this action you are building a new culture of tolerance, open mind and heart for peace, love and human respect. Thanks :)


Mis blogs son una casa abierta a todas las culturas, religiones y países. Se un seguidor si quieres, con esta acción usted está construyendo una nueva cultura de la tolerancia, la mente y el corazón abiertos para la paz, el amor y el respeto humano. Gracias:)



(::)