UN AMOUR de SWANN…
Tour of Europe 04 2016
Day 13
Why this title? Because this was a tiny feather of one of the many swans of Brugge. It must have flown up from the water beneath, to be trapped in one of the young, budding branches.
Un amour de Swann is the second part of the novel; Du côté de chez Swann, the first being À la recherche du temps perdu, by Marcel Proust.
Or, it also reminded me of this poem from my youth:
Mijn harte, ’lijk het wuivig pluis der lichte vachten,
op de ure dat moede avond neigt naar bleeken nachte,
dat de aarde trage golft van schapen, en ’t gedein
der kudde en van een herder-fluite zoete zijn;
— aan elke doornen-haag een wuivig pluis gebleven,
en ...
— God: ziehier mijn hart, ziehier dit moede leven,
gerafeld te Uwen wille als een geplukte vacht;
— maar laat me voelen, dat een warme stal me wacht ...
My heart, like the waving wool of the pale fleeces,
at the hour when weary evening leans to pallid night,
when the earth heaves sluggishly with sheep, and the rippling
of the flock and of a shepherd’s pipe are sweet;
— a waving woolly tuft caught on each thorn-bush,
and ...
— God: behold my heart, behold this weary life,
frayed to your will just like a plucked-out fleece;
— but let me feel that a warm byre awaits me ...
written by Karel van de Woestijne, a famous Flemish writer and friend of my father.
I love details, always looking for them.
I wish you a day full of beauty and thank you for your visit, Magda, (*_*)
For more of my other work or if you want to PURCHASE (ONLY PLACE TO BUY OUR IMAGES!), VIEW THE NEW PORTFOLIOS AND LATEST NEWS HERE on our website: www.indigo2photography.com
IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
UN AMOUR de SWANN…
Tour of Europe 04 2016
Day 13
Why this title? Because this was a tiny feather of one of the many swans of Brugge. It must have flown up from the water beneath, to be trapped in one of the young, budding branches.
Un amour de Swann is the second part of the novel; Du côté de chez Swann, the first being À la recherche du temps perdu, by Marcel Proust.
Or, it also reminded me of this poem from my youth:
Mijn harte, ’lijk het wuivig pluis der lichte vachten,
op de ure dat moede avond neigt naar bleeken nachte,
dat de aarde trage golft van schapen, en ’t gedein
der kudde en van een herder-fluite zoete zijn;
— aan elke doornen-haag een wuivig pluis gebleven,
en ...
— God: ziehier mijn hart, ziehier dit moede leven,
gerafeld te Uwen wille als een geplukte vacht;
— maar laat me voelen, dat een warme stal me wacht ...
My heart, like the waving wool of the pale fleeces,
at the hour when weary evening leans to pallid night,
when the earth heaves sluggishly with sheep, and the rippling
of the flock and of a shepherd’s pipe are sweet;
— a waving woolly tuft caught on each thorn-bush,
and ...
— God: behold my heart, behold this weary life,
frayed to your will just like a plucked-out fleece;
— but let me feel that a warm byre awaits me ...
written by Karel van de Woestijne, a famous Flemish writer and friend of my father.
I love details, always looking for them.
I wish you a day full of beauty and thank you for your visit, Magda, (*_*)
For more of my other work or if you want to PURCHASE (ONLY PLACE TO BUY OUR IMAGES!), VIEW THE NEW PORTFOLIOS AND LATEST NEWS HERE on our website: www.indigo2photography.com
IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved