Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Dvořák - Lorca - Equinox





The sun caresses the trees in the mornings; the frost kisses them in the evenings: the Autumn Equinox is here, a new year, a time of endings and beginnings.


I watch the trees for a sign: their branches are always lifted in Joy.


Dvořák - American Quartet, Prazak Quartet

A long ghost of silver moving
the night-wind’s sighing
opened my old hurt with its grey hand
and moved on: I was left yearning.

Wound of love that will grant my life
endless blood and pure welling light.
Cleft in which Philomela, struck dumb,
will find her grove, her grief and tender nest.

Ay, what sweet murmurs in my head!
I’ll lie down by the single flower
where your beauty floats without a soul.

And the wandering waters will turn yellow,
as my blood runs through the moist
and fragrant undergrowth of the shore.

--García Lorca

                    (Translated by A. S. Kline)


4 comments:

bluestorm said...

Tender, bitter-sweet and special as such is the time of the year.
Thank you for this rich entry, Flame!

Iulia Flame said...

Though we may be separated by distance and varied circumstances, our spirits appear to flow in similar directions. Thank you for coming by, bluestorm!

Fiodor said...

Thank you for Dvořák's American quartet. A pure beauty! A few days ago, I posted it on my facebook page...

Iulia Flame said...

Thank you for stopping by, Fiodor, and for sharing of a love of music and other beauties.

all is translation (and every bit of us is lost in it)

Rilke (Leonid Pasternak, 1900) Image credit to Wikimedia Commons GONG Sound, no longer measurable with the sense of hearing. As ...

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