Tagged: poetry.
June 29th, 2012
cystallineambermoments: Green Corn, painted by Vincent van Gogh, 1889 “…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”  — Vincent van Gogh

cystallineambermoments:

Green Corn, painted by Vincent van Gogh, 1889

“…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”  — Vincent van Gogh

(Source: journalofanobody)

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  ∞09:54 am, reblogged  by treasurefield ∩58
[Vincent van Gogh] [corn] [painting] [art] [impressionism] [nature] [quote] [quotation] [poetry] [enough] [artist]
October 19th, 2011

A body is given me—what shall I do with it,
So whole and so mine?

For the quiet joy of breathing and living,
Whom, tell me, should I thank?

I am both a gardener and a flower I am, too;
In the prison of the world, I am not alone.

On the window panes of eternity, settled
My breathing, my warmth.

A design shall be imprinted on them,
Unrecognizable since not long ago.

Let the dregs of the moment drip down—
The sweet design cannot be crossed out.
Osip Mandelstam, Breathing (1909)

∞06:34 pm, reblogged  by treasurefield ∩8
[poetry] [quotes] [Osip Mandelstam]
September 14th, 2011
If I forget,
The salt creek may forget the ocean;
If I forget
The heart whence flows my heart’s bright motion,
May I sink meanlier than the worst
Abandoned, outcast, crushed, accurst,
If I forget.
“Though you forget,
No word of mine shall mar your pleasure;
Though you forget,
You filled my barren life with treasure,
You may withdraw the gift you gave;
You still are queen, I still am slave,
Though you forget.
Thomas Hardy, The Woodlanders (via missarachnoidea)

∞03:01 pm, reblogged  by treasurefield ∩6
[If I forget] [Thomas Hardy] [Poetry] [The Woodlanders]
September 12th, 2011
Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.
from Evidence (part I) by Mary Oliver (via growing-orbits)

∞05:00 am, reblogged  by treasurefield ∩82
[poetry] [thoughts that breathe] [lit] [Mary Oliver] [Evidence]
September 9th, 2011
shadowjewels: She went as quiet as the dew From an Accustomed flower. Not like the Dew, did she return At the Accustomed hour! She dropt as softly as a star From out my summer’s Eve — Less skillful than Le Verriere It’s sorer to believe! ~Emily Dickinson

shadowjewels:

She went as quiet as the dew

From an Accustomed flower.
Not like the Dew, did she return
At the Accustomed hour!


She dropt as softly as a star
From out my summer’s Eve —
Less skillful than Le Verriere
It’s sorer to believe!

~Emily Dickinson

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  ∞04:00 pm, reblogged  by treasurefield ∩5
[emily dickinson] [poetry] [flowers] [purple]