Creature

hedgehog detail

The soul is the same in all living creatures although the body of each is different

Hippocrates (c. 460 – c. 370 BC)

 

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The Little Owl

durer-owlAlbrecht Dürer  (May 1471 – April 1528)

Published in: on January 26, 2014 at 6:44 am  Comments (1)  
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Lion from Venice

Albrecht Dürer (21 May 1471 – 6 April 1528) Lion of St Mark

Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528)

Dream Vision

Albrecht Dürer, Dream Vision. 9 June 1525. Watercolour on paper

In the year 1525 between Wednesday and Thursday (7 – 8 June) after Whitsunday during the night I saw this appearance in my sleep, how many great waters fell from heaven. The first struck the earth about four miles away from me with a terrific force, with tremendous clamour and clash, drowning the whole land.  I was so sore afraid that I awoke from it before the other waters fell.  And the waters which had fallen were very abundant.  Some of them fell further away, some nearer, and they came down from such a great height that they all seemed to fall with equal slowness.  But when the first water, which hit the earth, was almost approaching, it fell with such swiftness, wind and roaring, that I was so frightened when I awoke that my whole body trembled and for a long while I could not come to myself.  So when I arose in the morning I painted above here as I had seen it.  God turn all things to the best.
Albrecht Dürer (21 May 1471 – 6 April 1528)
Translated in A. Rosenthal, “Dürer’s dream of 1525,” Burlington Magazine 69 (August 1936)

`How often do I see great art in my sleep, but on waking cannot recall it; as soon as I awake, my memory forgets it.’
Albrecht Dürer,  Speis der maier knaben (Nourishment for Young Painters), c. 1515

A Greyhound

greyhound durerAlbrecht Dürer (1471-1528)
Brush and ink, the outlines indented with a stylus


An Affenpinscher

affen hoffmann
Hans Hoffmann (1530 – 1591)

 

 

Choices

tree bullfinch durer

Three Studies of a Tree Bullfinch, Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528)

I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I  look up,
saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
the uppermost branches.
I don’t cut that one.
I don’t cut the others either.
Suddenly, in every  tree,
an unseen nest
where a mountain
would be.

for Drago Štambuk
by Tess Gallagher

Stork

Albrecht Dürer (21 May 1471 – 6 April 1528) German painter, printmaker, engraver, mathematician, and theorist

Albrecht Dürer (21 May 1471 – 6 April 1528)
Painter, printmaker, engraver, mathematician, and theorist.

Storks have no syrinx and are mute.
They use soaring, gliding flight, which requires thermal air currents, to conserve energy.  Photographs of storks by Ottomar Anschütz inspired the design of Otto Lilienthal’s experimental gliders of the late 19th century.
Their nests sometimes grow to more than six feet in diameter and ten feet in depth.
Storks were thought to be monogamous which is partly true. They may change mates after migrations, and may migrate without a mate. They tend to be attached to nesting places as much as partners.
Their size, serial monogamy, and faithfulness to an established nesting site contribute to the prominence of storks in culture and in mythology.
W.

The animals in that country

durer animalsAlbrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528) Mein Buchlein

 

 

In that country the animals
have the faces of people:

The ceremonial cats
possessing the streets

the fox run
politely to earth, the huntsmen
standing around him, fixed
in their tapestry of manners

the bull, embroidered
with blood and given
an elegant death, trumpets, his name
stamped on him, heraldic brand
because

(when he rolled
on the sand, sword in his heart, the teeth
in his blue mouth were human)

he is really a man

even the wolves, holding resonant
conversations in their
forests thickened with legend.

In this country the animals
have the faces of
animals.

Their eyes
flash once in car headlights
and are gone.

Their deaths are not elegant.

They have the faces of
no-one.

 


Margaret Atwood

 

 

What is the grass?

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers’ laps,
And here you are the mothers’ laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.