"all that glitters is not gold, often have you ever heard that told"
kitschy may describe the cover of the purple cloth bound book with golden print upon it's spine that stood upon my shelf back home and perhaps still does.
but the contents of the book were rich, so rich. rich enough for me to feel the strangest longing to find and devour that book again in one sitting, taken with with spiced dark chocolate and eastern pastries and sweet dried dates.
scheherazade's spell is still strong, at least upon me.
enamored as i am by the cold mysteries of the scottish lochs, enamoured am i also by the raw heat of the yellow deserts.
of the architecture that climate inspires:
"The Persian Dawn with new desires may net the flushing mountain spires:
But my gaunt buttress still rejects the suppliance of those mellow fires."
of the lives of the nomads:
"The Sun who flashes through the head and paints the shadows green and red,
The Sun shall eat thy fleshless dead, O Caravan, O Caravan!
And one who licks his lips for thirst with fevered eyes shall face in fear
The palms that wave, the streams that burst, his last mirage, O Caravan!"
and of the western gate, the threshold to the sea:
"I am the gate toward the sea: O sailor men, pass out from me!
I hear you high in Lebanon, singing the marvels of the sea.
The dragon-green, the luminous, the dark, the serpent-haunted sea,
The snow-besprinkled wine of earth, the white-and-blue-flower foaming sea."
and this is just a little of the poem which inspired this post. i do not understand this poem too much, but it is a beautiful one. a poem which transports me elsewhere, words strung together into a perfectly orchestrated symphony. poems using words as music uses notes and never has the relationship been closer.
been taking the back way to school more often now that i'm in block 5. and the shortcut through engin is extraordinarily beautiful in the silence of the night. i take the long way sometimes, because i love the landscaping. and the excitement of passing shelob's stair even though i know what lies at the other end. and the visual pleasure i get from the delicate blue flowers grown there with the blue "just so".
and the rain is awesome. do you know what i feel like now? i want to visit ando tadao's church on the water and sit there from morning to evening and just sit there and say nothing and feel.
but i will do the next 'best' thing and do my japanese homework. :)
gorgeous song. quite unrelated to the above posting, but gorgeous. the bagpipes! and the feel. makes me feel like i'm reading the viking series by diana wynde jones again. and brings back form six memories.
kitschy may describe the cover of the purple cloth bound book with golden print upon it's spine that stood upon my shelf back home and perhaps still does.
but the contents of the book were rich, so rich. rich enough for me to feel the strangest longing to find and devour that book again in one sitting, taken with with spiced dark chocolate and eastern pastries and sweet dried dates.
scheherazade's spell is still strong, at least upon me.
enamored as i am by the cold mysteries of the scottish lochs, enamoured am i also by the raw heat of the yellow deserts.
of the architecture that climate inspires:
"The Persian Dawn with new desires may net the flushing mountain spires:
But my gaunt buttress still rejects the suppliance of those mellow fires."
of the lives of the nomads:
"The Sun who flashes through the head and paints the shadows green and red,
The Sun shall eat thy fleshless dead, O Caravan, O Caravan!
And one who licks his lips for thirst with fevered eyes shall face in fear
The palms that wave, the streams that burst, his last mirage, O Caravan!"
and of the western gate, the threshold to the sea:
"I am the gate toward the sea: O sailor men, pass out from me!
I hear you high in Lebanon, singing the marvels of the sea.
The dragon-green, the luminous, the dark, the serpent-haunted sea,
The snow-besprinkled wine of earth, the white-and-blue-flower foaming sea."
and this is just a little of the poem which inspired this post. i do not understand this poem too much, but it is a beautiful one. a poem which transports me elsewhere, words strung together into a perfectly orchestrated symphony. poems using words as music uses notes and never has the relationship been closer.
been taking the back way to school more often now that i'm in block 5. and the shortcut through engin is extraordinarily beautiful in the silence of the night. i take the long way sometimes, because i love the landscaping. and the excitement of passing shelob's stair even though i know what lies at the other end. and the visual pleasure i get from the delicate blue flowers grown there with the blue "just so".
and the rain is awesome. do you know what i feel like now? i want to visit ando tadao's church on the water and sit there from morning to evening and just sit there and say nothing and feel.
but i will do the next 'best' thing and do my japanese homework. :)
gorgeous song. quite unrelated to the above posting, but gorgeous. the bagpipes! and the feel. makes me feel like i'm reading the viking series by diana wynde jones again. and brings back form six memories.
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