Let this coming year be better than all the others. Vow to do some of the things you've always wanted to do but couldn't find the time. Call up a forgotten friend. Drop an old grudge, and replace it with some pleasant memories. Vow not to make a promise you don't think you can keep. Walk tall, and smile more. You'll look ten years younger. Don't be afraid to say, 'I love you'. Say it again. They are the sweetest words in the world.  (Ann Landers)

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This is my favourite painting - “The Girl with the Pearl Earring” by Jan Vermeer (1632-1675)

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The Months of the Year by Sara Coleridge, daughter of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

January brings the snow;
Makes the toes and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen ponds again.

March brings breezes loud and shrill,
Stirs the dancing daffodil.

April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.

May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.

June brings tulips, lilies, roses;
Fills the children’s hands with posies.

Hot July brings cooling showers,
Strawberries and gilly-flowers.

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the Harvest home is borne.

Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.

Fresh October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.

Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are falling fast.

Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.

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The music clip will be familiar to older folks. It was the theme tune for a long-running BBC radio series “Listen with Mother.“ Played here by two pianists Jacqueline Bonneau and Genevieve Joy, “Berceuse” is the first movement of the Dolly Suite by Gabriel Fauré.



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Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. (Alfred Lord Tennyson)

WISHING EVERYONE A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR

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Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home. (J. H. Payne 1795-1852)

There is a spot, 'mid barren hills
Where winter howls, and driving rain;
But, if the dreary tempest chills,
There is a light that warms again.

The house is old, the trees are bare,
Moonless above bends twilight’s dome;
But what on earth is half so dear,
So longed for, as the hearth of home?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o’ergrown,
I love them, how I love them all!

A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide;
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains, circling every side.

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air;
And, deepening still the dream-like charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere. (Emily Bronte 1818-1848)

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The music here is part of the slow movement from the New World Symphony by Dvorak, played by the Dublin Philharmonic conducted by Derek Gleeson


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WISHING EVERYONE A HAPPY CHRISTMAS

12th century silk painting “Bird on a Branch” by Li Anzhong

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have won. (Henry David Thoreau)

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All through the night there’s a little brown bird singing,
Singing in the hush of the darkness and the dew.
Would that his song through the stillness could go winging
To you.

All through the night-time my lonely heart is singing
Sweeter songs of love than the brown bird ever knew.
Would that the song of my heart could go winging
To you.

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  “Bird Songs at Eventide” (words - Royden Barrie, music - Eric Coates) sung by Robert White accompanied by Stephen Hough.


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"The Concert" by Jan Vermeer (1632-1675)


Music is the only language in which you cannot say a mean or sarcastic thing. (John Erskine)

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If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.
(William Shakespeare, from Twelfth Night)

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This is the 16th century melody “Greensleeves” played by Andre Rieu and his Orchestra.


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The Fairy Festival painted by Gustav Dore 1832-1883

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We the fairies blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.

When to bed the world is bobbing,
Then’s the time for orchard robbing,
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing. (Leigh Hunt 1784-1859)

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The music here is “Walking in the Air” sung by Chloe Agnew of Celtic Women

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This Friday on SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD -
“True Thomas and the Elfin Queen”
http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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HAIKU HOMESTEAD resumes today -
http://haikuhomestead.blogspot.com

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"The Bridal Journey to Hardanger” was painted by Adolph Tidemand 1814-1876 and Hans Gude 1825-1903

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Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods or craggy mountain yields.

There we will sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair-lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.

A belt of straw and ivy-buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs,
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

(Christopher Marlowe 1564-1593)

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This is the famous Intermezzo from the opera “Cavalleria Rusticana” by Mascagni, with some really outstanding images to accompany the music.

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This Friday on SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD -
“The Story of Norrie’s Law”
http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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Down in the forest something stirred

So faint that I scarcely heard,
But the forest leapt at the sound,
Like a good ship homeward bound.
Down in the forest something stirred,
It was only the song of a bird. (from verses by Harold Simpson)

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The Irish poet John O’Donohue in his book “Anam Cara” tells a fascinating story of a journalist friend who arranged to interview an old Native American chief.

When they met, the old man said he would like the two of them to have some time together before the interview proper. The journalist had assumed that they would have an informal chat, and so he was rather taken aback when the chief looked directly at him, and sat for a very long time in complete silence with his eyes holding the other’s eyes. The journalist said that at first he was terrified, but gradually he responded by gazing deeply into the old man’s eyes. And so they sat, without a word being spoken, for more than two hours!

He told O’Donhue that he soon felt that there was no need for an interview. It seemed to him that they had known each other all their lives.

A strange incident indeed. Is there a lesson here?

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Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
Till by broad spreading it disperses to nought. (William Shakespeare)

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This is a slide show of 20 paintings by Renoir. The music is “La vie en rose” and the trumpet playing sounds very much like Eddie Calvert.

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This week’s Scottish Tale from the Other World is “The Fisherman and the Fairy Cap” and will be posted on Friday,
http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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 "Westphalia" painted by Albert Bierstadt 1830-1902

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O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
(William Shakespeare 1564-1616)

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The song is “Pokarekare Ana”, the singer is Hayley Westenra.



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You may have tangible wealth untold,
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold,
Richer than I you can never be -
I had a mother who read to me.
(Strickland Gillilan)
 
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SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD continue on Friday with “The Tailor who minded the bairn.”
http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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This is the last in the series of Flower paintings by Joy Shaylor

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A ZEN STORY

One day a young student came to Zen Master Bankei with a problem.

“Master,” he said, “I can‘t control my temper and I go into a terrible rage. What can I do?”

“Show me what happens,” replied Bankie.

The young man shook his head and explained that it just happened unexpectedly.

“Well,” said the master," this bad temper can’t be the real you. If it was, you’d be able to show it to me at any time. What’s more, you didn’t have it when you were born, and it didn’t come from your parents. Why don’t you go away and think about that.”

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A FAVOURITE POEM

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.

 (from Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray 1716-1771)  

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" O for the wings of a dove" from “Hear my prayer” by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)



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SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD continues on Friday 6th November with “MacCrinnoch’s Lament.”

http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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To meditate is to listen with a receptive heart (Anon)

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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching; yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. (John Keats 1795-1821)

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May you have -
Walls for the wind,
A roof for the rain,
Drinks beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all that your heart may desire. (A Celtic Blessing)

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SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD
My new site begins on Saturday 31st October with ”A Hallowe’en Story” and will feature a different tale every week.
http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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One evening lately there was a completely cloudless sky here, and I was so impressed with the very bright full moon that I called on Jean to come and have a look.

I then went to get something to read, and I found a book I had bought many years ago, but hadn’t looked at for quite a while - “365 Tao” by Deng Ming-Dao, a collection of thoughts for every day of the year. As I picked it up, it fell open at 3rd October - what a coincidence! Yes, that very day was October 3rd.

You can imagine my astonishment when I read what was on the page. Here it is -

Silver disc: Let me call you goddess -
You, with your mirrored face,
Tonight, of all nights, your shape is perfect,
Your presence sublime.
You know it too. You appear before the sun has even set,
Glorious without your cloak of night,
Gazing down in supreme splendour,
To make this dusty world pastoral.

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The following poem was written by Thomas Hood (1799-1845)

I love thee, I love thee,
‘Tis all I can say;
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray,
I love thee, I love thee,
Is all I can say.

I love thee, I love thee,
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young;
I love thee, I love thee,
A thousand maids among.

I love thee, I love thee,
Thy bright and hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee, I love thee,
Whatever be thy chance.

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This slide show “A Tribute to Vincent Van Gogh” was put together by “Shaelrion.” The song is “Starry Night” by Don MacLean.



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Finally, you might be interested in my new website which begins appropriately on Hallow’een Saturday 31st October -

SCOTTISH TALES FROM THE OTHER WORLD

http://scottishtalesfromtheotherworld.blogspot.com

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Only as high as I reach can I grow,
Only as far as I seek can I go,
Only as deep as I look can I see,
Only as much as I dream can I be. (Anon)

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Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly tree;
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom more constantly?

The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly’s sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may have they garland green. (Emily Bronte 1818-1848)

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CLICKING FOR CHARITY

For many years now my day on the computer begins by logging on to the Ecology website. By clicking half-a-dozen times, I’m making a donation to a Fund which helps to save rainforests and endangered wilderness. So far I have personally saved more than five and a half acres.

I then log on to the Hunger site and my click results in a sponsor donating a cup of food. From the top of the Hunger site page you can access more charity sites - Breast Cancer, Child Health, Literacy, Rainforest and Animal Rescue, and by clicking at the relevant place on each one you are making donations at no cost to yourself.

The two addresses are -

http://www.ecologyfund.com

http://www.thehungersite.com

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He who is of a calm and happy nature will hardly feel the pressure of age, but to him who is of an opposite disposition youth and age are equally a burden. (Plato)

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My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky;
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

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Thanks to FreeFoto for the rainbow photograph
The poem is by William Wordsworth 1770-1850
“Autumn Pastoral” painted by Francois Boucher 1703-1770
The video was devised by “Thespadecaller”

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This week at HAIKU HOMESTEAD -
When is a haiku not a haiku?

http://haikuhomestead.blogspot.com

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A ZEN STORY

Two monks Tanzan and Ekido were travelling along a very muddy road in heavy rain, when they met a lovely young girl dressed in a beautiful silk kimono. She was standing, uncertain what to do, for at that point the mud was particularly messy.

Tanzan immediately stepped forward, lifted her up in his arms and carried her on to a spot where the ground was less muddy.

Later, when the two monks had reached their destination, Ekido, who had been very quiet during the final stages of their journey, spoke up. “Tanzan,” he said, “We monks aren’t allowed to have any physical contact with females. I can’t understand what you did today.”

Tanzan replied, “I left the girl back there. Are you still carrying her?”

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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close-bosom friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, Later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.

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(If an advert appears on the screen, click on the small cross on the right to remove it)


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The flower painting is No5 in the series by Joy Shaylor
“Autumn Woods” was painted by Albert Bierstadt
The poem is taken from “To Autumn” by John Keats
The music for the video “Autumn” is “La petite fille de la mer” by Vangelis who wrote the film scores for Chariots of Fire and Blade Runner

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FRIDAY 25TH SEPTEMBER

Thanks to FreeFoto.com

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass. (Dogen 1200-1253)

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Painted by Theodore Rousseau 1812-1867

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THINKING ABOUT NATURE

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. (John Muir)

Man’s heart away from nature becomes hard. (Standing Bear who was a Ponca Native American chief)

Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. (Kahlil Gibran)

The poetry of the earth is never dead. (John Keats)

The human spirit needs places where nature has not been re-arranged by the hand of man. (Anon)

To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment. (Jane Austen)

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished. (Lao-Tzu)

I can enjoy society in a room; but out-of-doors nature is company enough for me. (William Hazlitt)

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This week EIGHTY PLUS includes “Tam O’Shanter and the Witches” and a video clip of Barbara Dickson singing “The Skye Boat Song”
http://80plus.blogspot.com

This week at HAIKU HOMESTEAD - “Caterpillars and Butterflies” plus the 5-7-5 rule, Yes or No?
http://haikuhomestead.blogspot.com

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FRIDAY 18TH SEPTEMBER

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Some Taoist sayings -

Intelligent people know others,
Enlightened people know themselves.

You can conquer others with power,
But it takes true strength to conquer yourself.

When people see beauty, they think - that’s beautiful!
Thinking of something as being beautiful makes you think other things are ugly.
Calling something “good” forces you to call some other things “bad.”

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This is Flower Painting No4 by Joy Shaylor


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THE OLD WORKMAN

“Why are you so bent down before your time,
Old mason? Many have not left their prime
So far behind at your age, and can still
Stand full upright at will.”

He pointed to the mansion-front hard by,
And to the stones of the quoin against the sky;
“Those upper blocks,” he said, “that there you see,
It was that ruined me.”

There stood in the air up to the parapet
Crowning the corner height, the stones as set
By him - ashlar whereon the gales might drum
For centuries to come.

“I carried them up,” he said, “by a ladder there;
The last was as big a load as I could bear;
But on I heaved; and something in my back
Moved, as ‘twere with a crack.

“So I got crookt. I never lost that sprain;
And those who live there, walled from wind and rain
By freestone that I lifted, do not know
That my life’s ache came so.

“They don’t know me, or even know my name,
But good I think it, somehow, all the same
To have kept ‘em safe from harm, and right and tight,
Though it has broke me quite.

“Yes; that I fixed it firm up there I am proud,
Facing the hail and snow and sun and cloud,
And to stand storms for ages, beating round
When I lie underground.” (Thomas Hardy 1840-1928)

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"The Grand Canal, Venice" by Canaletto (1697-1768)

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I was very pleased with the Haiku Homestead blog which I re-started last week.

The theme of today’s posting is Autumn and I give some interesting answers to the question “What exactly is a haiku?”

http://haikuhomestead.blogspot.com

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Finally, a recording of the Londonderry Air played by Nigel Kennedy.



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FRIDAY 11TH SEPTEMBER

Look in the perfume of flowers and of nature for peace of mind and joy of life. (Wang Wei 701-circa 761 AD, Chinese painter, poet and musician)

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This is the 3rd of Joy Shaylor’s flower paintings



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SOLITUDE

Two poems by Wang Wei

My Retreat at Mount ZhongNan

In middle life I became immersed
In the philosophy of Tao.
Later I went to live
At the foot of South Mountain.
When I am happy I walk alone in the hills.

I know within my heart
What is good and which is beautiful.
When I arrive at the source of the stream
I sit down to rest and to watch the mists rising.
Sometimes I need a time-worn woodcutter,
Talking and laughing together,
We forget it is time to go home!


In a Retreat among Bamboos

Leaning alone in the close bamboos,
I am playing my lute and humming a song
Too softly for anyone to hear,
Except my comrade, the bright moon.

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This is by the Russian painter Arkhip Ivanovich Kuindzhi (1842-1910)



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A ZEN STORY

Twenty monks and one young nun were practising meditation under a famous Zen Master.

The nun was very beautiful and before long many of the monks had secretly fallen in love with her. Only one of them however showed his feelings, by slipping a love letter to her when nobody was looking.

The next day they were all assembled to hear a lecture from the Master. When it had finished, the nun stood up and, in front of everyone, said to the one who had written to her, “If you really love me, come and embrace me now.”

And the moral of course is - If you love, love openly.

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She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent! (Lord Byron 1788-1824)

The poet was inspired to write this by the beauty of his cousin Mrs Wilmot.

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Many years ago this Chopin piano piece became known as "So Deep is the Night". It's the Etude Op10 No3 in E major “Tristesse” by Chopin, played by the Polish-born American Arthur Rubinstein.



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After a break of three months, my HAIKU HOMESTEAD blog is in operation again. I’ve made some changes to the format and to the style, and you can see it at -

http://haikuhomestead.blogspot.com

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FRIDAY 4TH SEPTEMBER

Rainbows are just to look at, not to understand. (Anon)



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Inside each raindrop swims the sun.
Inside each flower breathes the moon.
Inside me dwell ten million stars,
One for each of my ancestors -
The elk, the raven, the mouse, the man,
The flower, the coyote, the lion, the fish.
Ten million different stars am I,
But only one spirit connecting all. (Nancy Wood)

What is life?
It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass
And loses itself in the sunset. (Crowfoot)


Crowfoot (1830-1890) Chief of the Blackfoot people, Canada

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“Iona” by the Scottish painter Francis Cadell (1883-1937)

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Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates and men decay;
Princes and lords may flourish or may fade;
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;
But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride,
When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
(Oliver Goldsmith 1730-1774, an extract from The Deserted Village)

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The singer here is Chloe Agnew and the melody comes from The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. The song is “Signore guidami” and the English translation is shown below.


Lord, guide me and tell me what to do,
I’ve seen the love of my life and he has seen me.
I want to tell him that I love him and I hope he’ll say the same.
Life goes by fast, my heart beats strong,
Lord, guide me and grant me peace.
I ask you what to say, how to say it.
Show me how to say I love him,
Show me how to say he loves me,
I’m praying that he’ll say that he loves me.

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FRIDAY 28TH AUGUST

A small child looked at a star and began to weep.
And the star said "Child, why do you weep?"
The child said "You are so far away. I will never be able to touch you."
And the star answered "Child, if I were not already in your heart, you would not be able to see me now." (John Magliola)

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This is the second in a series of six paintings by Joy Shaylor



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Morning, Noon and Night -

early morning dew -
teardrops from the willow
sparkle on the grass

cool summer breezes -
shadows of the windmill blades
scything through the grass

sparkling through the trees
fingers of fading sunlight
dance on the river

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"The Pioneer" by the Australian painter Frederick McCubbin (1855-1917)

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BILLY AND ME by James Hogg (1770-1835)

Where the pools are bright and deep,
Where the grey trout lies asleep,
Up the river and over the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest,
Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,
Where the nestlings chirp and flee,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest,
Where the hay lies thick and greenest,
There to track the homeward bee,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the hazel bank is steepest,
Where the shadow falls the deepest,
Where the clustering nuts fall free,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away
Little sweet maidens from the play,
Or love to banter and fight so well,
That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play
Through the meadow, among the hay;
Up the water and over the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.

[James Hogg, poet and author, became known as “The Ettrick Shepherd.” He was born in 1770 on a small farm near Ettrick in Scotland and died in 1835]

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The music here is the popular song The Rose, written and composed by Amanda McBroom, and performed by Gheorghe Zamfir on panpipes.



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I was delighted to learn that John's Quiet Corner had been recommended to stumbleupon.com by a viewer in Philadelphia who wrote "This old man blogger has some really amazing images and poetry selected - and he updates frequently."

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FRIDAY 21ST AUGUST

This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love - the more they give, the more they possess. (Rainer Maria Rilke 1875-1926)

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"Bluebells" by Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836-1912)

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I sleep with thee, and wake with thee,
And yet thou art not there;
I fill my arms with thoughts of thee,
And press the common air.

Thy eyes are gazing upon mine
When thou art out of sight;
My lips are always touching thine
At morning, noon, and night.

I think and speak of other things
To keep my mind at rest,
But still to thee my memory clings
Like love in woman's breast.

I hide it from the world's wide eye
And think and speak contrary,
But soft the wind comes from the sky
And whispers tales of Mary.

The night-wind whispers in my ear,
The moon shines on my face;
The burden still of chilling fear
I find in every place.

The breeze is whispering in the bush,
And the leaves fall from the tree,
All sighing on, and will not hush,
Some pleasant tales of thee.
(John Clare 1793-1864)

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This is the first of 6 flower paintings by Joy Shaylor



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This is a beautiful piece of music by Gabriel Faure (1845-1924) - Pavane.



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FRIDAY 14TH AUGUST

The clouds above us join and separate,
The breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns;
Life is like that, so why not relax?
Who can stop us from celebrating? (Lu You 1125-1210)

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“Wang Xizhi” by the Chinese painter Qian Xuan (1235-1305)

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Three more of my haiku -

sketching the roses -
time and time again falling
petals change my view

a speck of yellow
among the blue wild flowers -
one small buttercup

sunny afternoon -
the fish and their shadows make
the pond seem crowded

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The Girl with the Flaxen Hair by Debussy played by Jascha Heifetz and Emanual Bay



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Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou are gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
(Percy Bysshe Shelley 1792-1822)

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Finally, someone has put together this slide show of 44 paintings by a number of 19th century artistes. The whole thing lasts 6 minutes and 44 seconds, but it's well worth watching.



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FRIDAY 7TH AUGUST

There are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle.
The other is as if everything is. (Albert Einstein)



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All the breath and bloom of the year in the bag of one bee;
All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem;
In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea;
Breath and bloom, shade and shine -
Wonder, wealth and - how far above them -
Truth, that’s brighter than gem,
Trust, that’s purer than pearl -
Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe
All were for me in the kiss of one girl. (Robert Browning 1812-1889)

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"Madame Moitessier" by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780-1867)
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Something to think about -

ONCE UPON A TIME a traveller was journeying across the desert when he met two strange men. As they were all going roughly in the same direction, they chatted as they walked.

The men told the traveller that their names were Fear and Plague and they were going to a big city where they intended to kill 20,000 of the inhabitants.

Shocked, the man asked Plague if he would do all the work.

Plague shook his head, “No, I’ll kill only a few hundred. My friend Fear will do the rest.”

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This piece of music is a particular favourite of mine - Romance from the Gadfly Suite by Shostakovich.



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Finally, a haiku -

stillness of twilight
the aspen leaves quivering
in eerie silence

[In the Scottish Highlands the aspen tree, also known as the trembling poplar, is said to have magical powers]

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FRIDAY 31ST JULY

Life is the flower for which love is the honey. (Victor Hugo)



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O my love is like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my love is like a melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I,
And I will love thee still, my Dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Love,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile! (Robert Burns 1721-1784)

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“Wivenhoe Park Essex” by John Constable (1776-1837)

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Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. (William Shakespeare 1564-1616)

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FRIDAY 24TH JULY

For a good few years now I have been interested in haiku and have
enjoyed composing them. Many books have been written explaining what the haiku is, but the simplest definition would be a 17 syllable poem of three non-rhyming lines, the distribution of the syllables being 5/7/5. Using as few words as possible, it encapsulates a moment in time.

Those three haiku of mine are not connected - I wrote them at different times.

searching for the moon -
there it is, hiding behind
the old sycamore

midnight on the shore -
among the rocks a silver
moon in every pool

calm spring night, a stone
thrown in the pond shatters the
silence - and the moon



This poem "New Moon" written by Tu Fu (712-770) was translated by Kenneth Rexroth and is found in the anthology "One Hundred Poems from the Chinese"

The bright thin new moon appears,
Tipped askew in the heavens.
It no sooner shines over
The ruined fortress than the
Evening clouds overwhelm it.
The Milky Way shines unchanging
Over the freezing mountains
Of the border. White frost covers
The garden. The chrysanthemums
Clot and freeze in the night.

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Moonlight by J.M.W.Turner (1775-1851)

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Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair,
You certainly know the right thing to wear;
Moonlight becomes you, I'm thrilled at the sight
And I could get so romantic tonight.

You're all dressed up to go dreaming,
Now don't tell me I'm wrong,
And what a night to go dreaming,
Mind if I tag along?

If I say “I love you”
I want you to know
It's not just because there's moonlight, although -
Moonlight becomes you so. (song lyrics by Johnny Burke)

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Finally, this 5 minute video is a real delight!



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FRIDAY 17TH JULY

Silence is deep as Eternity, speech is as shallow as Time. (Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)



The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.
Some see nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see nature at all.
But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself. (William Blake 1757-1827)

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This painting “Small Meadows in Spring” is by Alfred Sisley (1839-1899), one of the French Impressionists.



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Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
Let them live upon their praises;
Long as there’s a sun that sets,
Primroses will have their glory;
Long as there are violets,
They will have a place in story;
There’s a flower that shall be mine,
‘Tis the little Celandine. (William Wordsworth 1770-1850)



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The music here is the well-known Serenade by Schubert played on violin and piano. I don't know who the musicians are.



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FRIDAY 10TH JULY

“Music has charms to soothe the savage breast.” So said William Congreve in his play The Mourning Bride (1697)



Here are some of my favourite quotes on the subject of music -

Of all noises, I think music is the least disagreeable. (Samuel Johnson)

I don't know anything about music. In my line you don't have to. (Elvis Presley)

Wagner's music is better than it sounds. (Edgar Wilson Nye)

Music is the only language in which you cannot say a mean or sarcastic thing. (John Erskine)

Music with dinner is an insult both to the cook and the musicians. (G.K. Chesterton)

In the presence of great music we have no alternative but to live nobly. (Sean O’Faolin)

An intellectual snob is someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture and not think of The Lone Ranger. (Dan Rather)

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. (Aldous Huxley)

Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings. (Ed Gardner)

Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence. (Robert Fripp)

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This painting “Jeunes Filles au Piano” is by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841-1919)



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Continuing the theme of music, the following lines by W.G. Rothery are very often sung to a melody by Handel -

Art thou troubled?
Music will calm thee,
Art thou weary?
Rest shall be thine,
Rest shall be thine.

Music, source of all gladness,
Heals thy sadness
At her shrine,
Music, music, ever divine.
Music, music calleth
With voice divine.

When the welcome spring is smiling,
All the earth with flow'rs beguiling,
After winter's dreary reign,
Sweetest music doth attend her,
Heav'nly harmonies doth lend her,
Chanting praises in her train,
Chanting praises in her train.

Art thou troubled?
Music will calm thee.

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“The Music Lesson” is by one of the Pre-Raphaelite painters Sir Frederick Leighton (1830-1896)



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Finally, this piece of music used to be a favourite with youngsters learning the piano. It was known as the “Celebrated Minuet by Boccherini.” The accompanying paintings and drawings are all from the 18th century.



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Thanks to Webweaver for the use of the clipart item.
http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/victorian.shtml

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FRIDAY 3RD JULY

A GARDEN SONG by Henry Austin Dobson (1840-1921)

Here, in this sequestered close,
Bloom the hyacinth and rose;
Here beside the modest stock
Flaunts the flaring hollyhock;
Here, without a pang, one sees
Ranks, conditions, and degrees.

All the seasons run their race
In this quiet resting place;
Peach, and apricot, and fig
Here will ripen and grow big
Here is store and overplus, -
More had not Alcinous! *

Here, in alleys cool and green,
Far ahead the thrush is seen;
Here along the southern wall
Keeps the bee his festival;
All is quiet else - afar
Sounds of toil and turmoil are.

Here be shadows large and long;
Here be spaces meet for song;
Grant, O garden-god, that I,
Now that mood and moment please, -
Find the fair Pierides! **

* In Greek mythology Alcinous was a very wealthy ruler of the island Scheria. He features in the story of Jason and the Argonauts.

** The Pierides were the nine daughters of the King of Emathia. They challenged the Muses to a song contest. The Muses won and changed the girls into magpies. Confusingly, the Muses themselves are also known as the Pierides.

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This is a photograph of Dove Cottage where William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy lived from 1799 till 1808.



The house is a great tourist attraction, and Jean and I visited it on one of our Lake District Holidays.

Originally an inn called the Dove and Onion, it’s thought that it was probably built in the early part of the 17th century. It was while they lived at Dove Cottage that William produced his finest works.

This poem "Dove Cottage Garden" he wrote just before he and Dorothy were leaving home for a few months.

Sweet Garden-orchard! of all spots that are
The loveliest surely man hath ever found.
Farewell! we leave thee to heaven's peaceful care.
Thee and the cottage which thou dost surround ...

Dear Spot! whom we have watched with tender heed,
Bringing thee chosen plants and blossoms blown
Among the distant mountains, flower and weed
Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own ...

O happy Garden! loved for hours of sleep,
O quiet Garden! loved for waking hours.
For soft half-slumbers that did gently steep
Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of flowers ...

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This is a rather spectacular painting by the Chinese artist Yun Shouping (1633-1690)



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Live more and more in the present, which is ever beautiful and stretches away before and beyond the limits of the past and the future. (Meher Baba 1894-1969)

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The music here is the Humming Chorus from Madam Butterfly by Puccini, provided by Andre Rieu the Dutch violinist, conductor and composer.



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