Words are not just words
they are kisses
on the lips of silence
that speak of your essence
~Vesna~

Monday, June 28, 2010

And all that jazz



And all that jazz

She sang,
she made
everybody
feel alive.
She took us
to the places new.
And painful, gentle,
words so true,
like our tears,
just flew and flew.
Yes, piano
was there too.
But man,
that woman,
she is something else.
And all that jazz.

Vesna 28/06/2010

Tomorrow, June 29, marks my first anniversary as a blogger here:)
Thank you so much for visiting and for your wonderful support.
Love and hugs,
Vesna

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Orange, Purple

Awaken by orange

Ultimate joy
Sweet scent of a new morning
To have and to eat

Surprised by purple
 
“red me”, said the blue
not expecting to be lost
in the purple surprise



Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Blue, Red, Yellow

Out of the blue

Out of the blue
I have a vision of you being happy
And then it becomes true


Into the red

Too late to be smart
Everything is over the head
C’mon take it heart



Connected by yellow

My yellow dress
A gold star in your eyes
A look of love

Friday, June 18, 2010

Wildflower

Barbara Macklowe
New York, USA
Wild Flower Field, Bridgehampton, NY

Little shy wildflower
Your beauty fills the whole field
Lift your head up

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Moanin'




Ode To My Joy
Pablo Neruda

Joy,
green leaf
resting on the window sill,
tiny brightness
newly born,
musical elephant,
dazzling
coin,
occasional
fragile gust of wind
but more often
everlasting bread,
hope realized,
and duty properly done:
I scorned you, joy--
I was given bad advice.
The moon lured me along its paths.
Ancient poets
lent me their glasses
and I drew
a dark halo
around everything I saw,
a black crown on every flower,
a melancholy kiss
on each pair of beloved lips.
But there's still time.
Let me make it up to you.
I thought
the bush caught up in the storm
had only to singe
my heart,
that rain had only to drench
my clothes
in the crimson land of mourning,
that if I closed
my eyes to the rose
and caressed the open wound
suffering my share of everyone's pain--
that only then was I aiding my fellow man.
In this I erred.
I had lost my way,
so today I call on you, joy.

You are necessary as the earth.
You warm our hearts like fire.
You are perfect, like bread.
You are musical, like the water of a river.
You make gifts of honey circulating like a bee.

Joy, I was a moody youth:
I found your mop of hair
shocking.

But when its abundance showered down on my chest I discovered it wasn't true.

Today, joy,
I ran into you on the street,
far from any book.
Come with me:

I want to go with you
house to house,
I want to go from town to town,
flag to flag.
You aren't just for me.
We will go to islands,
and seas.
We will go to mines,
and forests.
Not only will I be greeted by solitary woodsmen,
poor washerwomen, or gruff and stately
stonecutters,
all of them bearing your bouquets:
there will also be crowds
and gatherings,
lumberjacks and longshoremen,
and brave boys
fighting their fight.

Around the world with you
and with my song!
With the star's winking flight
and the sea spray's delight!

I will deliver them all
because to all
I owe my joy.

Let no one questions why I should want
to give the world's wonders
to all mankind:
I learned the hard way
it's my earthly duty
to spread joy--
and I do this through my song.



I hope you are enjoying nature's delights,
thank you for visiting :)
Vesna

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Verde que te quiero verde




Green, how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.
The ship out on the sea
and the horse on the mountain.
With the shade around her waist
she dreams on her balcony,
green flesh, her hair green,
with eyes of cold silver.
Green, how I want you green…



Verde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar
y el caballo en la montaña.
Con la sombra en la cintura
ella sueña en su baranda,
verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Verde que te quiero verde…

Federico Garcia Lorca




García Lorca was born on 5 June 1898, in Fuente Vaqueros, a small town a few miles from Granada, in Andalusia, southern Spain. His father owned a farm in the fertile vega surrounding Granada and a comfortable villa in the heart of the city. His mother was a gifted pianist. In 1909, his family moved to the city of Granada. In 1915, after graduating from secondary school, García Lorca attended Sacred Heart University. During this time his studies included law, literature, composition and piano. During 1916 and 1917, García Lorca traveled throughout Castile, Léon, and Galicia, in northern Spain, with a professor of his university, who also encouraged him to write his first book, Impresiones y Paisajes (Impressions and Landscapes – published 1918).

Wikipedia