Arhive etichetă | hope

Coșulețul culoare de Paște…/ Easter-color basket

 

“Somehow one must love the world
without being worldly.”

G.K. Chesterton

 

Fotografii în lumina dup-amiezii de vineri, apoi a dimineții de sâmbătă…
…culori surâzând a căldură, a inimă, speranță și drag.

 

Photos taken in the Friday afternoon light, and then Saturday morning…
…colors that smile of warmth, sweet golden hope and much heart.

 

“Don’t be pushed around by the fears in your mind. Be led by the dreams in your heart.”
Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

 

În lumina dup-amiezii târzii…

 

In the midafternoon light…

Anunțuri

Coșul Iepurașului…/ Easter Bunny Basket

 

“Bucuria e rațiunea existenței noastre.”
G.K.Chesterton

“We colour the world,
Not with the darkness of our pasts,
But with the rainbow of our hope.”
Jenim Dibie, The Calligraphy of God

Spring Quotograph… and early spring forest

 

 

Foșnet de …ghiocei în cerdacul însorit al primăverii.

***

Snowdrops gently rustling in the spring’s sunny path…

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Tip of the iceberg.. (1)

 

“The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water”
Ernest Hemingway, Death in the Afternoon

 

A Farewell to Arms (Adio arme)
“The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”
“Then too you are in love. Do not forget that is a religious feeling.”

For Whom the Bell Tolls (Pentru cine bat clopotele)
“For what are we born if not to aid one another?”

The Old Man and the Sea (Bătrânul și marea)
“It’s silly not to hope. It’s a sin he thought.”

Big Two-Hearted River, In Our Time
“The river was there.”
“He did not need to get his map out. He knew where he was from the position of the river.”

Mulțumesc... (sunt ..pietricele alese pe sprânceană, așa ca pentru ..”vinovați”)

Steps

 

our steps in the wild soft grass
a green necklace of strass
– as emerald velvety fern,
with lights that mildly burn

their silky footprints in the sand
a wet rusty chain of time spent
– sweet golden bowls so bright,
in foamy waters so white

her  steps on the cruel cement
a long line of maybe  and yet
– “maybe it’s working like this,
yet maybe I will go amiss?”

my dear warm steps on the ground
as beads of murmur and sound
– spread on a thread made of streams,
of life and hope, …bluish dreams