quartetfortheendoftime:

Bamboo and Sparrows (c. 1840) by Utagawa Hiroshige

[Source]

— 4 plays

When illusion spin her net
I’m never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free
Watched by empty silhouettes
Who close their eyes but still can see
No one taught them etiquette
I will show another me
Today I don’t need a replacement
I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
My heart going boom boom boom
“Hey” I said “You can keep my things
They’ve come to take me home.”

— 0 plays

We can walk our road together
If our goals are all the same.
We can run alone and free
If we pursue a different aim.
Let the truth of love be lighted,
Let the love of truth shine clear.
Sensibility,
Armed with sense and liberty,
With the Heart and Mind united in a single perfect Sphere.

A sparrow pool party at my bird bath! :)  They do like the overgrown rose area for shelter, play, insects & aphids :) Also, they seem to like to swim in the bird bath! :D

— 238 plays

"Here’s to you…
 Rest forever…
 The last and final moment is yours
 …agony’s your triumph.”

arranged by Harry Gregson-Williams, sung by Lisbeth Scott.

From the film “Sacco e Vanzetti”. (composed by Joan Baez, Ennio Morricone)

sharonbphotos:

BFF © SharonB (iammacgirl) on Flickr.

Bird friends forever…

Pictures taken on my visit to Llangollen Abbey and the Horseshoe Pass. A beautiful and thoughtful place.

  “The matter that detains us now may seem,
To many, neither dignified enough
Nor arduous, yet will not be scorned by them,             
Who, looking inward, have observed the ties
That bind the perishable hours of life
Each to the other, and the curious props
By which the world of memory and thought
Exists and is sustained. More lofty themes,
Such as at least do wear a prouder face,
Solicit our regard; but when I think
Of these, I feel the imaginative power
Languish within me; even then it slept,
When, pressed by tragic sufferings, the heart             
Was more than full; amid my sobs and tears
It slept, even in the pregnant season of youth.
For though I was most passionately moved
And yielded to all changes of the scene
With an obsequious promptness, yet the storm
Passed not beyond the suburbs of the mind;
Save when realities of act and mien,
The incarnation of the spirits that move
In harmony amid the Poet’s world,
Rose to ideal grandeur, or, called forth                  
By power of contrast, made me recognise,
As at a glance, the things which I had shaped,
And yet not shaped, had seen and scarcely seen,
When, having closed the mighty Shakespeare’s page,
I mused, and thought, and felt, in solitude.”

— expert from Wordsworth’s Prelude, Book 7

Shattered Glass sculpture by Daniel Arsham.