The Wave

A blog full of poetry, colourful art and age-old wisdom: a rose garden whose leaves cannot be touched by autumnal blasts.

Now he is Dead

Now he is dead, who talked

Of wild places and skies

Inhabited by the hawk;

 

Of the hunted hare that flies

Down bare parapets of stone,

And there closes its eyes;

 

Of trees fast-rooted in stone

Winds bend but cannot break;

Of the low terrible moan

 

That dead thorn trees make

On a windy desolate knoll;

Of the storm-blackened lake

 

Where heavy breakers roll

Out of the snow-bred mist,

When the glittering air is cold;

 

Of the Lion Rock that lifts

Out of the whale-backed waves

Its black sky-battering cliffs;

 

Of the waterfall that raves

Down the dark mountain side,

And into a white cauldron dives.

 

Alistair Te Ariki Campbell (1925-2009)

Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, also known as Raphael (1483-1520): The Deposition [Deposizione Borghese; Pala Baglione; Borghese Deposition, The Entombment], 1507, oil on wood, 184 x 176 cm, Galleria Borghese, Rome, Italy, source: media.lanecc.edu. and commons.wikimedia.org.

Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, also known as Raphael (1483-1520): The Deposition [Deposizione Borghese; Pala Baglione; Borghese Deposition, The Entombment], 1507, oil on wood, 184 x 176 cm, Galleria Borghese, Rome, Italy, source: media.lanecc.edu. and commons.wikimedia.org.

Rinella Ivanković (1979, Zagreb, Croatia): Tones of Joy [Tonovi Radosti], (2011), mixed media on canvas, 70 x 100 cm, source: abstractartistgallery.org. and rinellaivankovic.wix.com. Please visit Miss Rinella Ivankovic’ own website: rinellaivankovic.wix.com. for more wonderful works of art!

Rinella Ivanković (1979, Zagreb, Croatia): Tones of Joy [Tonovi Radosti], (2011), mixed media on canvas, 70 x 100 cm, source: abstractartistgallery.org. and rinellaivankovic.wix.com. Please visit Miss Rinella Ivankovic’ own website: rinellaivankovic.wix.com. for more wonderful works of art!

A Gaelic Love Poem: Lightness

It was your lightness that drew me,

the lightness of your talk and your laughter,

the lightness of your cheek in my hands,

your sweet gentle modest lightness;

and it is the lightness of your kiss

that is starving my mouth,

and the lightness of your embrace

that will let me go adrift.

 

Meg Bateman

 

Translation from the Gaelic by Meg Bateman

 

Aotromachd

 

B’ e d’ aotromachd a rinn mo thàladh,

aotromachd do chainnte ‘s do ghàire,

aotromachd do lethchinn nam làmhan,

d’ aotromachd lurach ùr mhàlda;

agus ‘s e aotromachd do phòige

a tha a’ cur trasg air mo bheòil-sa,

is ‘s e aotromachd do ghlaic mum chuairt-sa

a leigeas seachad leis an t-sruth mi.

Gino Severini (1883-1966): Portrait of the Artist’s Daughter, 1931, details unknown, source: cortonamia.com.

Gino Severini (1883-1966): Portrait of the Artist’s Daughter, 1931, details unknown, source: cortonamia.com.

Mary Dawson Elwell (1874-1952): Chamonix, 1938, oil on canvas, 31.5 x 39 cm, source: eastriding.gov.uk. 

Mary Dawson Elwell (1874-1952): Chamonix, 1938, oil on canvas, 31.5 x 39 cm, source: eastriding.gov.uk. 

Love and its Timing

The mature are privileged to love

lain down in their narrowest bed

which becomes larger and grassier

touching lightly, in each pore, bodily sky

 

That is love: the unexpected reward,

the subterraneous and coruscant prize

the reading of ciphered lightning

which, deciphered, nothing more exists

 

worth winning and the terrestrial price

except for the golden minute in the watch

tiny, trembling in the twilight hours

 

Love is what is learned close to limit

after archiving all kinds of science

inherited, heard of. Love begins late.

 

Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987)

 

Translation from the Portuguese by Sandra Madureira and Maria Isabel Asperti Nardi

 

Amor e seu tempo

Amor é privilégio de maduros

estendidos na mais estreita cama,

que se torna a mais larga e mais relvosa,

roçando, em cada poro, o céu do corpo.

 

É isto, amor: o ganho não previsto,

o prémio subterrâneo e coruscante,

leitura de relâmpago cifrado,

que, decifrado, nada mais existe

 

valendo a pena e o preço do terrestre,

salvo o minuto de ouro no relógio

minúsculo, vibrando no crepúsculo.

 

Amor é o que se aprende no limite,

depois de se arquivar toda a ciência

herdada, ouvida. Amor começa tarde.

Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640): Equestrian Portrait of the Duke of Lerma [Retrato ecuestre del duque de Lerma], 1603, oil on canvas, 290.5 x 207.5 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain, source: commons.wikimedia.org.

Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640): Equestrian Portrait of the Duke of Lerma [Retrato ecuestre del duque de Lerma], 1603, oil on canvas, 290.5 x 207.5 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain, source: commons.wikimedia.org.

Cyril Edward Power (1872-1951): Speed Trial, c. 1932, linocut, printed in viridian, permanent blue and Chinese blue, on buff oriental laid tissue, 196 mm x 375 mm, private collection, source: ukauctionnews.com.

Cyril Edward Power (1872-1951): Speed Trial, c. 1932, linocut, printed in viridian, permanent blue and Chinese blue, on buff oriental laid tissue, 196 mm x 375 mm, private collection, source: ukauctionnews.com.

You Have to Be Careful

You have to be careful telling things.

Some ears are tunnels.

Your words will go in and get lost in the dark.

Some ears are flat pans like the miners used

looking for gold.

What you will say will be washed out with the stones.

 

You look for a long time til you find the right ears.

Til then, there are birds and lamps to be spoken to,

a patient cloth rubbing shine in circles,

and the slow, gradually growing possibility

that when you find such ears

they already know.

 

Naomi Shihab Nye