More varied than any landscape was the landscape in the sky, with islands of gold and silver, peninsulas of apricot and rose against a background of many shades of turquoise and azure.
quote by Cecil Beaton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Overall, the anarchy was the most creative of all periods of Japanese culture for in it there appeared the greatest landscape painting, the culmination of the skill of landscape gardening and the arts of flower arrangement, and the No drama.
quote by J.M. Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have long been interested in landscape history, and when younger and more robust I used to do much tramping of the English landscape in search of ancient field systems, drove roads, indications of prehistoric settlement.
quote by Penelope Lively
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Martian Landscape
* come from the land where
The wheat is still wheat
Where the waters in the rivers is still water
In this land every man lends
A hand when you need it
But your hands are full of life
So you can help yourself and feel it
Its been a long way from the red of my home
From the valleys
And the green plains never ending
Everyone knows that the sun in his land is stronger
And your hands are full of life
If you can only wait just longer
** so let it be a small haven big in your heart
Dont let it turn into a nova
Tryin to climb and climb
Try and forget this place where
I can still find time
To sing in rhyme
.*** martian landscape,
Ill learn to lie in your arms
Where all the freedom is mine and it comes
Martian landscape,
Ill turn my face to your sun
Where your horizon is mine and it comes
* repeat
** repeat
*** repeat
Martian landscape
Martian landscape
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The American landscape has no foreground and the American mind no background.
quote by Edith Wharton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've walked a lot in the mountains in Iceland. And as you come to a new valley, as you come to a new landscape, you have a certain view. If you stand still, the landscape doesn't necessarily tell you how big it is. It doesn't really tell you what you're looking at. The moment you start to move the mountain starts to move.
quote by Olafur Eliasson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Landscape
A Landscape
Here in this landscape of bushes and crippled
trees, silence speaks of the final peace.
Grotesque dead trees, daylight ghosts, stand there
with grey boughs stretching upward appealing
to a fairytale god, “give us today a new life” but
no, there is only one god he is almighty, and hears
not your fearful whispered wishes, those who do
not understand are doomed to a life of an empty
pursuit for pleasures, crowding nightclubs and
casinos trying to avoid being alone with the night
and facing the truth: we are mortal and heaven is
to be remembered for a while by other mortals.
Faces in a black frame seeing you seeing through
you and into a void. Yet I fear not this landscape as
it is shunned by man and no harm can happen to me
here except the inevitable
poem by Oskar Hansen
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In the depths of the mirror the evening landscape moved by, the mirror and the reflected figures like motion pictures superimposed one on the other. The figures and the background were unrelated, and yet the figures, transparent and intangible, and the background, dim in the gathering darkness, melted into a sort of symbolic world not of this world. Particularly when a light out in the mountains shone in the center of the girl's face, Shimamura felt his chest rise at the inexpressible beauty of it.
Yasunari Kawabata in Snow Country
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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after sunset
in gold rimmed clouds
the last landscape
haiku by Femia Cools
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It was wrong to allow Stalin to shape the European landscape of the 20th century. It would be even more wrong to let him shape the landscape of the 21st century.
quote by Larry Summers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orchid Atop The Manipal Hill!
Blossomed an Orchid, atop a small hill!
Amidst wild grass, shrubs and wild life that kill;
The hill-top’s plateau underwent much change,
In a short span of time, in varied range;
The landscape into a township became,
The wilderness vanished, buildings came;
Made from the hill’s laterite, rose to fame,
And etched for itself an especial name!
It was harder than the hardest known brick;
The local manpower built it up quick;
No longer did the Tigers, Leopards prowl;
Nor could you hear the Hyena’s howl!
A Citadel had sprung up on the hill;
Just one man’s missionary zeal, vision still;
Did make this amazing reality,
Happen with his unique effort, mighty;
A medical-man turned business-man!
The pioneer of the Manipal-group
Of Educational Institutions;
Who broke records with his string of ventures,
An achievement rare for an Indian.
Over-looking the Arabian sea,
Now stands the esteemed M.A.H. E.;
Where the low hill came to its end-point,
Rose in leaps and bounds, a family-joint!
From the poor man’s pittance saved,
The Syndicate Bank’s foundation was paved;
Some acres of land were purchased for use,
To house the many Institutes;
The whole venture was made self-sufficient;
By the money, the Bank wisely lent;
The hill was reclaimed from its landscape wild,
It was the great TMA Pai’s brain-child!
This ORCHID blossoms on Manipal-hill,
Of beauty and splendour, unequalled still!
poem by John Celes
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The Leaves
The leaves of Autumn
lovely gold and brown colors
painting the landscape.
poem by Heather Burns
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The leaves of Autumn
lovely gold and brown color
painting the landscape.
haiku by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memory
June
The high grass waves, with varied hues
Of wild flowers glowing 'mid the green;
The woods have caught a deeper shade,
And darkly skirt the distant scene.
The white-throat sings from every brake
The blackbird breathes a sweet reply;
The lark's shrill fairy notes awake
The echoes of his native sky:
The pale wild rose is blushing near;
And clinging tendrils round it twine,
That throw their gay and graceful wreaths
In many a varied waving line.
There tremble on the slender stem
The barley's rich and bending heads;
And here the pea, in winged bloom,
Along the air its fragrance sheds.
I cannot smile, though all the scene
Is gay in Nature's brightest guise;
I think on hours that once have been,
And clouds o'er all the landscape rise.
And can no charm that nature knows
The fatal power of grief destroy?
Ah, no! in vain each beauty glows
When mem'ry has no gleam of joy!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Nature's Favorite Color
The green foliage is an attractive sight
On the vast landscape on a clear summer day,
As the white daisies gradually unfold along the side
Of a winding roadway that is somber and gray.
It is a picturesque view that one will readily admit,
Blesses the color of green to the greatest height,
And yet it is a scene that enlightens one's mind
With euphoria and great pleasure and delight.
It is not the beauty of the unfolding rose,
Nor the mellow sunflowers near the old mill,
But the color green - Nature's matchless green
On the highlands that gives one a welcomed thrill.
It is beholding of the color of green,
On the growth of leaves on a swaying tree,
And on the landscape far and wide indeed,
As green is Nature's favorite color for all to see.
.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Landscape Of Secondary Things
The landscape of secondary things
Is the arrival that comes into place and placing
After the soft lull and the rush and the hum
The shapeless movement without words
Or point of turning
After all that is in primal feeling felt
We return and yet arrive at the landscape
Of secondary things
Some visions visitations in our dreams
yvette smith april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Untouchable Paradise
Rolling hills bathed in a sea
of azure skies laid before me.
A golden sun offered me its rays,
and I soaked them in gladly,
wondering if it was real.
Was there a place, just beyond
my knowledge, that was as
perfect as this
landscape before me?
My questions went
unanswered, but when I
took a step towards
my peaceful paradise,
my imagination failed me,
and I was left alone.
In my bedroom.
With a warm memory.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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The way he paints the sun and the trees
He paints the sun in black bold colors
Flaming in black smoke and the trees
Are tiny and thin all in black like
Charred sticks from a huge fire
He did not place people in the landscape
The black rays are like the hands of octopuses
Crawling and perhaps eating the landscape
I look at his eyes, they are all red
Blood spurting out from his capillaries
With this huge fire of anger
Burning the painting the canvass ashed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zeroing In
"I am a landscape," he said.
"a landscape and a person walking in that landscape.
There are daunting cliffs there,
And plains glad in their way
of brown monotony. But especially
there are sinkholes, places
of sudden terror, of small circumference
and malevolent depths."
"I know," she said. "When I set forth
to walk in myself, as it might be
on a fine afternoon, forgetting,
sooner or later I come to where sedge
and clumps of white flowers, rue perhaps,
mark the bogland, and I know
there are quagmires there that can pull you
down, and sink you in bubbling mud."
"We had an old dog," he told her, "when I was a boy,
a good dog, friendly. But there was an injured spot
on his head, if you happened
just to touch it he'd jump up yelping
and bite you. He bit a young child,
they had to take him down to the vet's and destroy him."
"No one knows where it is," she said,
"and even by accident no one touches it.
It's inside my landscape, and only I, making my way
preoccupied through my life, crossing my hills,
sleeping on green moss of my own woods,
I myself without warning touch it,
and leap up at myself -"
"- or flinch back
just in time."
&nbs p; ; "Yes, we learn that.
It's not a terror, it's pain we're talking about:
those places in us, like your dog's bruised head,
that are bruised forever, that time
never assuages, never."
poem by Denise Levertov
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