We kidnapped? With landscapes, the verses of poets declaimed aloud, the endless expanses of lavender that we grow? "Poetry is like watching the world, children, heaven, life, without being too much to see. She is afraid to find out all his cards .. and then runs away ... why is not without skin. Pupae and butterflies, butterflies and pupae crisalidi.Forse we will be infinite without ever becoming butterflies, because butterflies volaranno within us. " I am not sure of nothing but the holiness of the affections of the heart, imagination and truth. What the imagination perceives as beauty must be true, whether or not existed before, because I think all our passions are like love: all, if intensely sublime are creators of pure beauty. " John Keats
"A beautiful thing is a joy forever: its beauty and ever increasing
disappear into thin air." John Keats
disappear into thin air." John Keats
"Shining Star, I was still as you are not hung up in solitary splendor in the night, to watch, with the lids removed for ever, as a patient in nature, sleepless hermit, the mobile water to their priestly duty of pure human washing around banks, or watch the new mask gently falling snow on the mountains and plains. No - still standing as well, again without change, I would rest on the pillow of pure bosom of my love, forever feel the gentle descent of the wave and surge,
always awake in a sweet unrest to hear always, always, his breathing eased, and so live ever - or else fail in death. "
always awake in a sweet unrest to hear always, always, his breathing eased, and so live ever - or else fail in death. "
0 comments:
Post a Comment