Ballade d'amour
(dedicated to Mr. Krystian Zimerman, a great pianist)
a rich ethnographic
a vaulted ceiling
ornate windows
carved glasses
colorful lace
floral patterns
folk embroidery
priceless codices
lyrical and dramatic
narrative qualities
contemplative
elegiaque
wh ite stones
wooden benches
decorated frescoes
an exquisite mansion
a chateau in your heart
soaring longing voice
conquer the anger
no more sadness
a love come true
hillside vineyards
melodious memories
excellent wines for lovers
(inspired by Pierre-Auguste Renoir's In the Garden)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Etude Magnifique
dedicated to Mr. Pierre-Laurent Aimard, a great pianist)
lovely aspiring pillars
row thatched cellars
royal hunting lodge
the Isis shrine
amber road which passed through
Gothic frescoes in its sanctuary
contiguous mosaic fragments
the fine Baroque doors
the vast interior
the family estates
the ceremonial halls
a sea of blossoms in June
novel
virtuoso
complex
exten sive
varying
exploiting
technique
unorthodox
timbres
contrasts
sonori ties
significance
combination
didactic
values
study
(inspired by Giorgio de Chirico's Piazza)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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It is after you have lost your teeth that you can afford to buy steaks.
quote by Pierre Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
quote by Pierre Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea's Sunset
sea which receives
bouquets from every garden
under colorful sunset horizon of heaven
to flee from
poisonous souls
that spur in illusion
sweeps along
to majestic sea
descends from God
O young lovers!
you have come to sea
into a true redeeming heart
emerges sensuous and lovely
deeper than any sea-dingle
forever sails afar sea
takes on
that longing tone
of memories that waves put on
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Shimmering Water
On the banks of River Rhine
Under the morning sun
And the blue sky shining
The gentle breeze rustled
Along the silvery water
Wooden boats sailed slowly
Accompanied by choir of bee
Which sounds melodious and sweet
The beautiful little flowers grow
Whiter than fur than snow
Full of smiles, looking at
Gold fishes that are playing
The wonderful rotating cloud
Which is the natural grace
Singing love songs in Spring
To the leaves are greenish
The yellow and red butterflies
Sigh shook majestically
Viewing wonders at
Water flowing
Under the shade of vine trees
Who is always shining joy
Always have cheerful dance with
The rhythm of the river water
Under the golden stone fountain
That herrings are gliding soaring
Engrossed race with the water flow
Kept mumbling and longed for freedom
Bouquet of lilies sways
Floating to the west bank
The shining frescoes never left
The goose that swims around
The cherry blossom
Filling the day with peace
Entertaining lonely grasshopper
With love poems of water
Petals of the dandelion bud sigh
As mysterious as the May rainbow
Reaching the vortex of flowing wave
Shimmering Water that never go again
(dedicated to a great pianist, Kotaro Fukuma)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Aubade
Mystical Morning Song came whispering
It's melodious rhythmic sounds
For the spring time lays in the Garden's
Of lovers floral bouquet abed in the ground
Waiting for your happiness in your love to grow
You continue to wonder in absolute awe
While prolonging whispers of lover's musical breeze
That embraces The Spring and welcomes Winter's thaw
The warmth of the sun rays come in loves burning
Filling all nature and you with serene
Allowing all new Spring buds of love to open
Tantalizing aroma's of new memories to be made
Come the Mystical Morning Song Spring
Dedicated to: Jeri, Aka, Morning Song
With love
A Morning song is an Aubade
Or the regret of lovers that Dawn
Has come too soon
il n'est mie jors,
Saverose au corps gent
Si me consent Dieus
L'aloete nos ment
Transalation:
It is not daylight
O sweet one with the gentle body
So God help me
The Lark lies to us
(-Provencal, twelfth or Thirteenth Century)
poem by Theodora Onken
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Hangzhou, West Lake
do you expect me to
be happy here? the lake is as old as time
that is true
there is this premise that the old lake
must somehow
refresh me about some past pleasures
that i have forgotten
round one: the sound of the wooden boat
and the sleeping willows are peaceful along the
river edged with boulders of stones
there are stories
those sad ones about lovers who die without
tasting what love could have been
i am swallowed by an ocean of faces
and sadness simply comes again
uninvited.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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During A Journey In Sweden
My boyish heart in thee confided,
For to the great by thee 't was guided.
As man, my waiting is for thee,-
The Northern cause with thee, with thee!
Rich lands and talents are thy dower,
But fallow lie thy wealth and power.
Thou must the North in concord bind,
Or never shalt thy true self find.
There's longing in thy folk arisen,
Poetic hope-but yet in prison.
Though forces great within thee dwell,
Thou art not wholly sound and well.
Too many things are undertaken,
Too oft the task is soon forsaken.
Though rich in promptings of the heart,
In faith and duty faint thou art.
In danger only hast thou thriven,
When something great to guard was given.
When every breast with warmth shall glow
At Sweden's name, thy strength thou'lt know.
What's thine alone lifts not thy feeling,
Till honor's cause the skies are pealing,
Thou hast no joy but daring deed
In fortune's favor or in need.
For thy fair memories inspiring
Are far too great, much more requiring:
The Northern cause! Lead thou the way!
'T will double glory thee repay!
Of all thou canst, this is the greatest,
Thy duty earliest and latest.
Thy future rests in its embrace
With cure for ills that now abase.
Thou land of heart-born fancies thronging,
Thou land of poetry and longing,
Fill now thy heart, thy spirit free!
The Northern banner waits for thee!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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The Longing Is The Heart Of The Poem
THE LONGING IS THE HEART OF THE POEM
The longing is the heart of the poem
The longing for so much
Which will never be again-
The longing to be young again
To love again
In a true and deep way-
The longing for all the times and people
Who are not
And never will be again-
The longing which tells me again and again
How much we lose in merely living
How deep and rich life is
In time and ways and people
Beyond our ever remembering and recollecting fully-
The longing is for so much that is gone
For so much that will never be again-
Life itself is a longing for life itself
And life goes beyond itself in so many ways-
All the longing all my longing
Will never bring it back
even that
which is always here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Suite Characteristique
(dedicated to Mr. Piotr Anderszewski, a gifted pianist)
you travels
around in and out
of my heart and soul
why can't you be believed in?
walls of the truth
can beautify your path
but your desires blind your honest
with or without you, I keep on going, love
you smiles
to forgotten soldiers
where I can put my last hope
when all white doves are destroyed?
(inspired by Gustave Caillebotte's Paris Street, Rainy Day)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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What I Miss The Most
I hear the sound of gentle rain
Like teardrops on the windowpane
A priceless smile in a wooden frame beside the bed
I stare at the ceiling and talk to the walls
I lay here alone and imagine it all
As a river of memories rush through my head
I can almost taste your kiss as I think about how much I miss
Your hungry eyes, your satin skin
The sound of your voice whisperin'
The love I feel inside your heart
When you're wrapped up in my arms so close
That's what I miss the most
I try to rest but sleep won't come
My body aches and my mind is numb
Shadows fall as the morning sun begins to rise
Another day without you here
Has it been weeks or has it been years
I find it getting harder to keep track of time
I breath in and I breath out but it's getting tough to live without
Your hungry eyes, your satin skin
The sound of your voice whisperin'
The love I feel inside your heart
When you're wrapped up in my arms so close
That's what I miss the most
What I miss the most
I can almost taste your kiss as I think about how much I miss
Your hungry eyes, your satin skin
The sound of your voice whisperin'
The love I feel inside your heart
When you're wrapped up in my arms so close
That's what I miss the most
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Love Is Gone
True love is weak, when lovers are weak,
True love is meaningless, when lovers are useless,
True love is not true, when lovers are untrue,
True love is wickedness if lovers are wicked,
One sided love, is not true love,
Fault finding in love isn't its stand,
It isn't perfectness, but affections
Nor not for something on somebody,
True love is dead, when it is believed to alive,
True love is wrong if lovers are right,
True love will lose, if lovers are winners,
True love is gone if lovers stays.
poem by Dickson Mseti
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The pain passes. The beauty remains.
quote by Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've been 40 years discovering that the queen of all colors was black.
quote by Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danse des Nympheas
(dedicated to Ms. Gitti Pirner, a talented pianist)
J'ai mis du temps à comprendre mes nympheas
water lilies
iris, willows
a little estate
in the country
a water garden
how magical
revelation
model
vision
pond
sensitivity
suggestive
at times fluid
a flow of colors
sometimes sigh
landscapes
reflections
obsession
far beyond
conveying
the mirror of water
the motif's essential
constantly being modified
by changing sky reflected in it
imbues it with life and movement
from one minute
to the next minute
they are all merely
the accompaniments
effect varies unceasingly
a stream
a garden
I love water
I love flowers
no boundaries
Un paysage ne vous imprègne pas en un jour
(inspired by Claude Monet's Le bassin aux nympheas)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Canephor with a basket
Your voice is a
Canephor with a basket for songs
Coming towards me like a blue dream.
Delicate but strong,
My silence beats your ears,
Leaving a trace of love
Like a fog carved in the air
Or unlike a name carved in an oak tree.
My silence and your voice
Weave new vibrations.
It's like an embrace.
Whatever I'm touch'd from,
It clutches my mind.
Dedicated to the singer Bryan Adams.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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An artist, under pain of oblivion, must have confidence in himself, and listen only to his real master: Nature.
quote by Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Voice In The Wilderness
My heart was so heavy with longing for you
My arms were so lonely, lonesome and blue
Alone in my sorrow, I heard a voice cry
A voice in the wilderness, a voice from the sky
Have faith in your darling, the voice seemed to say
Be true to her memory, shell come back one day
And though there was no-one, nobody to see
A voice in the wilderness brought comfort to me
We had a quarrel, I was unkind
Why did you leave me, love made me blind
Come back to me darling, I yearn for your touch
Have pity, come back now, I need you so much
Believe me and youll hear it, the voice from above
The voice in the wilderness, the voice of true love
Believe me and youll hear it, the voice from above
A voice in the wilderness, the voice of true love.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You're my priceless...pri celess! ! !
You are my priceless love
The spring of my heart
Your love is more precious than my life
For you does my heart only care
Your sweet smile is priceless...pri celess
You are the dream of my life
My precious love
Just for seeing you a moment
I can give you my life
Your sweet smile is priceless...pri celess
My heart Still mourning for your love
Though long long years have passed us by
though i know you will never come back
But in my heart still hiding the memories
So deeper of my heart keeping a lighten torch
May one day you'll come still keeping the hope
Your my priceless...pri celess
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Inner Garden
*
Autumn has come to rest
In her garden
Come to paint the trees with emptiness
And no pardon
So many things have come undone
Like the leaves on the ground
And suddenly she begins to cry
But she doesnt know why
Heavy are the words that fall through the air
To burden her shoulders
Caught up in the trees
Her soliloguy,
Dont leave me alone
**
Rome now comes to sit
In her garden
Mingling the breeze with memories
Of a time when
There was a room in pale yellow hues
Her room with a view
Where love made a bed of happiness
In muslin and lace
Sweet is the voice from far away
That speaks sotto voce and
Is lingering there in the golden air
To quiet the day.
( * inner garden i, ** inner garden ii)
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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