When you catch a dream, you run after another in continuation of the first.
For you, Spring has built so much Love as to fill the sky with blue and the gardens with happy green.
I bid you to live the new days to the full and catch all your dreams in the most beautiful spring of your life!
Iulia Halatz
Art – Peder Mork Mønsted (Danish painter, 1859 – 1949)
“Mărțișor is an old tradition celebrated all over Romania every year, on March 1st.
The name Mărțișor is a diminutive of March (Martie in Romanian). It is believed that the person who wears the red and white string would enjoy a prosperous and healthy year.”
HE loves me
He keeps my tears
at bay
in a corner crystal ball
and my heart in a field of molten flowers*.
I want to loose the yarn
Again he pours
crimson dew on my weary tales
whilst I am not looking…
It warms like midnight kisses…
My mind smells
the sweet cinnamon
glueing his words together
My eyes see naught
But my garden lilies caught
in cobweb intoxicating grip
and exhilarating dance…
*Source of inspiration – The B-52’s.
Art – Cobweb Dance by Charles Courtney Curran.
https://medium.com/blueinsight/cobweb-dance-bda63d4652d5
Going for Water
Robert Frost – 1874-1963
The well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;
Not loth to have excuse to go,
Because the autumn eve was fair
(Though chill), because the fields were ours,
And by the brook our woods were there.
We ran as if to meet the moon
That slowly dawned behind the trees
, The barren boughs without the leaves,
Without the birds, without the breeze.
Lilian May Miller – Moon rise over a Kyoto hillside, 1924
He couldn’t be captured in a phrase
Or one hundred…
He was like no one,
He was like a foreign country
That you travelled through
Eerie landscapes and glistening lakes
Towards horizons
Camouflaged in mists
Precluding
Happiness
once felt
And dreamed about.
He was like a giant umbrella
In bright colors
Protective of winds and shadows
Bandaging unseen wounds
In tenderness and
Love.
Also featured at Medium.com/Blue Insights
Art – Harald Sohlberg
Reposting an old poem written in 2015
Aftermath
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
With the cawing of the crow,
Once again the fields we mow
And gather in the aftermath.
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers
Is this harvesting of ours;
Not the upland clover bloom;
But the rowen mixed with weeds,
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,
Where the poppy drops its seeds
In the silence and the gloom.
Art – Samuel Palmer, Harvest Moon, The Weald, Kent, 1833
Also featured at Quora.com.
“If I had asked people what they wanted they would have said faster horses.” -Henry Ford.
If I had asked my students what they wanted they would have said an English-Romanian translation course.
Not having asked and keeping my head and thoughts firmly outside the box, I ask you to speak English.
I ask you to think creatively and transform your thoughts in a story …
Don’t worry about your mistakes.
As long as you don’t take them anywhere with you or tuck them in every chilly evening … you will be fine…
At my courses I give you the user manual for transforming your thoughts in a simple English story.
A seasonal picture upon a magnificent story. Source: D.j.Jeschke.
December Light
A poem
December is what we are
When love glistens back
the light in the baubles.
We have the White and the Words.
Words that move mountains
tiptoe to touch the stars
whet the wondrous luster of the sea
travel with the wind
glimmer with the moon
Feel not the rejection and foible
of the world.
Words are a soft warm pillow
on which I rest
my threadbare soul
that trod naked
on paths of ice
and thorns.
Words keep my bloodshed
clean on a stave
and in hues of red
a song is made…
https://medium.com/blueinsight/december-light-c83bc4dd9ea9
© Iulia Halatz
Art – Toshio Ebine
You neglect and belittle the desert.
The desert is not remote in southern tropics
The desert is not only around the corner,
The desert is squeezed in the tube-train next to you,
The desert is in the heart of your brother.
—T S Eliot (Choruses from The Rock)
Art – René Magritte
Wild nights – Wild nights!
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea!
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee!
Happy 190th anniversary, Emily Dickinson!
