A mixture of art in all its forms and random grabs from life and whatever else bubbles up….

Nature

Mărţişor…..Pentru tine…

For

you

in the first place as always…. 🙂

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Miercurea fara cuvinte…An Alien in Parcul Pantelimon monday morning….

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY STARTS HERE

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verovers
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innerspacejournal


Miercurea fara cuvinte…Cricket in our bedroom….


Full view click here

Miercurea fara cuvinte starts here

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incaunipocrit
aefcfoto
alicegeorgiana
cella
clipedecluj
cristi
gabryellehelen
haicasepoate
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verovers
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rox
my darling
my love
angel
flower
innerspacejournal
innerspace
lilli
napobloghia
zam-fir
papornitacuvorbe
dictaturajustitiei
evelinna
coolnewz
My love


The warm and the cold…

SOURCE

The Warm and the Cold

Freezing dusk is closing
Like a slow trap of steel
On trees and roads and hills and all
That can no longer feel.
But the carp is in its depth
Like a planet in its heaven.
And the badger in its bedding
Like a loaf in the oven.
And the butterfly in its mummy
Like a viol in its case.
And the owl in its feathers
Like a doll in its lace.

Freezing dusk has tightened
Like a nut screwed tight
On the starry aeroplane
Of the soaring night.
But the trout is in its hole
Like a chuckle in a sleeper.
The hare strays down the highway
Like a root going deeper.
The snail is dry in the outhouse
Like a seed in a sunflower.
The owl is pale on the gatepost
Like a clock on its tower.

Moonlight freezes the shaggy world
Like a mammoth of ice –
The past and the future
Are the jaws of a steel vice.
But the cod is in the tide-rip
Like a key in a purse.
The deer are on the bare-blown hill
Like smiles on a nurse.
The flies are behind the plaster
Like the lost score of a jig.
Sparrows are in the ivy-clump
Like money in a pig.

Such a frost
The flimsy moon
Has lost her wits.

A star falls.

The sweating farmers
Turn in their sleep
Like oxen on spits.

Ted Hughes

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Miercurea fara cuvinte…14..A very cold day at a lake in Finland…We need to have some coolness here..

Photo by me ..click here for full view

Wordless wednesday starts here

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napobloghia
klausen1976


A crown of flowers….


Photo by me …click here for full view

A crown of flowers
~
I don a crown of flowers
To mask the sorrow inside
Eyes which fall upon its beauty
Do not see the tears I cry
While the flowers bud to blossom
I wilt to almost nothing
In a garden colour filled with life
There is also a shadow found
In the sun the flower buds open
In the dark a heart is closed
The flowers shall be woven together
To hide something left unseen
The rose, the tulip and the bluebell rise
I am envious of their beautiful life
So I don I crown of flowers
To mask my sorrow inside

Matthew Holloway

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A view…


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ado feckp
cristi
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haicasepoate.eu
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teo
verovers
schtiel


The octopus…

The Octopus
By James Merrill 1926–1995

There are many monsters that a glassen surface
Restrains. And none more sinister
Than vision asleep in the eye’s tight translucence.
Rarely it seeks now to unloose
Its diamonds. Having divined how drab a prison
The purest mortal tissue is,
Rarely it wakes. Unless, coaxed out by lusters
Extraordinary, like the octopus
From the gloom of its tank half-swimming half-drifting
Toward anything fair, a handkerchief
Or child’s face dreaming near the glass, the writher
Advances in a godlike wreath
Of its own wrath. Chilled by such fragile reeling
A hundred blows of a boot-heel
Shall not quell, the dreamer wakes and hungers.
Percussive pulses, drum or gong,
Build in his skull their loud entrancement,
Volutions of a Hindu dance.
His hands move clumsily in the first conventional
Gestures of assent.
He is willing to undergo the volition and fervor
Of many fleshlike arms, observe
These in their holiness of indirection
Destroy, adore, evolve, reject—
Till on glass rigid with his own seizure
At length the sucking jewels freeze.

source

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my love
ruxandra
sophie
teo
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verovers
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Vizual
schtiel
zamfirpop


Fallen….

Autumn Leaves

I am a leaf in the yards of someone,
I am fallen in the lands of only one

They have no yard of their own,
There are no leaves green or brown

They have nothing to be fallen,
They have nothing to be shown

All has been stolen my dear,
All has been lost no cheer

I am an Aboriginal leaf in my yard,
I have been fallen on the land

My leaves muddy red such a blood,
They have been damaged very badly

I have nothing all has gone,
My colourful yard has been brawn

The house of my yard has been knocked down,
Farms, vineyards have been burnt even the town

They pulled and pulled my yard trees,
Until their roots were torn of the ground

We never rest until the wind rests,
When they leave we leave too

We never stop until the leaves stop falling,
When the summer keeps the leaves fidgeted on trees

Im always in love with you; never its too late,
I like to see a green yard in your eye

Old and ragged things will be moulded on their land,
But the sun light of our hearts will win all in our hand.

Dana Kadir

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alicegeorgiana
anavero
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cristi
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poorbuthonest
schtiel
teo
harrylequin
theodora0303
verovers
vizualw
filumenie


The deadly kiss…..

A spider’s delicate steps do not trammel the petals of the rose. Its kiss, however, is deadly.

roxana
verovers
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anavero
blogulise
cristi
gabirotaru
gabryellehelen
haicasepoate
linkping
lunapatrata
poorbuthonest
ruxandra
schtiel
teo
harrylequin
theodora0303
vizualw
zamfirpop
filumenie
alicegeorgiana
rokssana
theodora


The seedling…




I have known you through centuries –
In my dreams I am gently guided;
Times and eras where we have been –
Blessed memories, I stand excited.

For all eternity, I have known you –
Through each cycle, to find you at last;
Once again, remembering every event;
As if, all in one moment, is our past.

What was it, my love, that I once did?
A cell of worry exists through fear;
Perhaps, it is, you misunderstood –
It was for your love, I took that spear.

And here and now you seek me out –
Whirling in emotion brought from there;
Rushes running through our veins –
Pinning these hearts that do so dare.

Wondering, why this time, we have chosen –
Such miles in obstacles to be near;
Your day – My night; Opposite worlds –
Why now, in this time, does this appear?

Not meant to be? I couldn’t believe –
How is it, through all, we have still found;
The hearts that beat only for each other –
The signs, all around us, so profound.

Come hither, my love, as I await –
Or bring me to the nearness we so need;
For centuries, together, we have worked –
Planting this ever blossoming seed.

Beth Layne 2009

riaggklsssrrssthvrrrs


The sparrows nest…


Full view here

The Sparrow’s Nest

BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.
I started—seeming to espy
The home and sheltered bed,
The Sparrow’s dwelling, which, hard by
My Father’ house, in wet or dry
My sister Emmeline and I
Together visited.

She looked at it and seemed to fear it;
Dreading, tho’ wishing, to be near it:
Such heart was in her, being then
A little Prattler among men.
The Blessing of my later year
Was with me when a boy:
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
And humble care, and delicate fears;
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
And love, and thought, and joy.

source

r i r r v t s s r s s s l g g g cp


Mercurea fara cuvinte…7…Cool summer camouflage…


Full view

Wordless wednesday starts here

r vh t s s s r s s l k g g g ec a i d


MIERCUREA FARA CUVINTE..4..Parcul Cișmigiu

MIERCUREA FARA CUVINTE STARTS  HERE


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rivggglssrstghvmdecr r


Miercurea fara cuvinte….3….Mushrooms


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Miercurea fara cuvinte starts here

v h t s r r ss l k g g g ed d c a a ir r a g


Lacul / The Forest pool….Mihail Eminescu…

LACUL

Lacul codrilor albastru
Nufrei galbeni il incarca;
Tresarind in cercuri albe
El cutremura o barca.

Si eu trec de-a lung de maluri,
Parc-ascult si parc-astept
Ea din trestii sa rasara
Si sa-mi cada lin pe piept;

Sa sarim in luntrea mica,
Inginati de glas de ape,
Si sa scap din mina cirma,
Si lopetile sa-mi scape;

Sa plutim cuprinsi de farmec
Sub lumina blindei lune –
Vintu-n trestii lin fosneasca,
Unduioasa apa sune!

Dar nu vine… Singuratic
In zadar suspin si sufar
Linga lacul cel albastru
Incarcat cu flori de nufar.

1876, 1 sept.

THE FOREST POOL…

Upon the forest pool’s deep blue
Golden petalled lilies float;
Circling silver ripples play
Around an ancient rowing-boat.

I pass along the sloping bank,
I pause to listen, lost in dreams
I see Her rise among the reeds,
She stretches out her arms it seems.

And hand-in-hand we leap aboard,
Charmed by the water’s tiny childe;
The rudder strings slip from my grasp,
The oars into the water slide.

To float away wrapped in love
Beneath the kindly summer moon,
While midst the rushes breathes the wind
And endlessly the ripples croon.

But it is dream, she does not come,
And vainly do I moan and weep
Beside the dark blue forest pool
On which gold-petalled lilies sleep
.


Set free…


Please click the link here to see it in full view .


An American Indian Legend

If anyone desires a wish to come true they must first capture a butterfly and whisper that wish to it.
Since a butterfly can make no sound, the butterfly can not reveal the wish to anyone but the Great Spirit who hears and sees all.
In gratitude for giving the beautiful butterfly its freedom, the Great Spirit always grants the wish.
So, according to legend, by making a wish and giving the butterfly its freedom, the wish will be taken to the heavens and be granted. The following line is often added when the Legend is read prior to releasing butterflies at a wedding:
We have gathered to grant this couple all our best wishes and are about to set these butterflies free in trust that all these wishes will be granted.

r r t s ss g g e i


Miercurea fara cuvinte-1…


Full view here

miercurea fara cuvinte

r g s t ars


A walk in the park … Part 3

Yesterday again a walk in the park……


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This is a new or rather old contraption for children here in the park..You climb up and face dive into the sand…seems the logical contribution for children from the city council …dont you just love how childrens safety is a high priority..?? ( being a tad sarcastic here now… )


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I was so happy that I found this snake..

A dice snake ..harmless it eats fish,lizards and frogs ..made my day 🙂


SSTPBHRHD


A walk in the park….. part 2

Last saturday in a park in Bucharest….


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The above photo of the dead dog was taken 3 weeks after I took the first photo of it in the lake of park…now the water is low and it looks quite different and the smell…So much beauty to be found in the parks but also death and horror and ignorance of city council… All though they are building new paths and benches and lights after years and years of neglect, there are more people and children playing there again ..probaly one of the most dangerous parks in Bucharest before….


A walk in the park part 1 is here

R AF S K PBH


Memories of Maramures….

Just some photos from me  of Maramures….Oh…the longing to be there again…


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The hills are covered with meadows
the plains streched with cornland

Here in the peacefull country
there is no noise of the city machines.

There’s hardly any sound

This is the place
I want to live
This is the place
I want to die

17 / 1 / 1979 Androxa

T S R PBH S E D KH I


A walk in the park…

A walk today in Parcul Pantelimon , Bucharest , Romania….


Full view here

FIREBUGS……

Dead stray dog in the lake…

All above photos by me and see them in full view here


FIREBUG….


Photo by me full view here

The firebug, Pyrrhocoris apterus, is a common insect of the family Pyrrhocoridae. Easily recognizable due to its striking red and black colouration, it is distributed throughout the Palaearctic from the Atlantic coast of Europe to northwest China. It has also been reported from the USA, Central America and India. It has been reported as recently expanding its distribution northwards into mainland UK.  They are frequently observed to form aggregations, especially as immature forms, with from tens to perhaps a hundred individuals.
Read more from source


Photo by me full view here

I love these insects ,the colors..so vivid and they are everywhere here 🙂
Hey…dont you think they look a bit like Tiki statues ?


Growth…

Growth of Man — like Growth of Nature —
Gravitates within —
Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it —
Bit it stir — alone —

Each — its difficult Ideal
Must achieve — Itself —
Through the solitary prowess                            
Of a Silent Life —

Effort — is the sole condition —
Patience of Itself —
Patience of opposing forces —
And intact Belief —

Looking on — is the Department
Of its Audience —
But Transaction — is assisted
By no Countenance —

Emily Dickinson