Wednesday, November 25, 2009




"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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Wednesday, November 18, 2009


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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Wednesday, November 11, 2009















 "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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Wednesday, November 4, 2009




















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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