View allAll Photos Tagged sorrow...
Dr. Tapan Kumar Mahata, a veterinary doctor by profession is watching bereaved ongoing ritual works before a last funeral procession of his sasur (wife's father).
Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it
droop and drop into the dust.
I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of
pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am
aware, and the time of offering go by.
Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower
in thy service and pluck it while there is time.
In the gloom and darkness of the night, when there is a sudden flash of light, a person will recognize objects;
in the same way, the one with a flash of insight sees according to reality--
"This is how sorrow works; this is how it arises;
this is how it can come to an end; this is the path leading to that end."
-Lord Buddha, Anguttara Nikaya
This man alaweys sitdown on one of Alahverdykhan bridge booth, in Isfahan.his music melody is full of sorrow.if you stand and listen to his melody he look at you and dedicate you a sorrow smile, and ask you alittle money with his look.
Forest Hill Cemetery, Ann Arbor.
Info found from Flickr Member Wystan; This is the statue of Niobe, who kneels atop the Samuel Feinberg monument (1918), in Forest Hill Cemetery, Ann Arbor. Feinberg, 28, was a medical student at the University of Michigan when he died in the Spanish Influenza pandemic that followed the first World War. A native of Bulgaria, he left a widow in Toledo, Ohio. The 1919 Michiganensian (U-M yearbook) was dedicated to Feinberg's memory.
Niobe, who lost her children one at a time through the caprice of the gods (and was forced to watch as each in turn died a more terrible death) became the symbol of mourning in Greek mythology.
Vandals have broken the nose of this figure, and cracked several of her delicate fingers. They have entirely obliterated a photograph of Feinberg that was attached to the monument's base.
Finding solace amid the sorrow, the National September 11 Memorial & Museum at the World Trade Center, after several years of preparation, opened its doors at Ground Zero in New York City at the location where the Twin Towers once stood. This photograph was taken by Dianne Stratton Corzo in April 2002 and shows Trinity Church, near Ground Zero, and the American Flag hanging from a bridge; her images of the aftermath of 9/11 have been shown in numerous venues such as museums, galleries, and cultural and civic centers (photo courtesy of the artist).
Taken in a cemetery... I think it's pretty gloomy. She does not look like a happy little stone angel.
"Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion."
~ Galway, Kinnell, b. 1927 ~