Study of a Dead Grey Partridge

barbari partridgeJacopo de’ Barbari (c. 1460/70 – before 1516)

 

Custom will reconcile people to any atrocity
George Bernard Shaw (26 July 1856 – 2 November 1950)

 

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Elegy

Pisanello StorkPisanello (c. 1395 – c. 1455)

 

Elegy

True, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,
to use no longer customs scarcely acquired,
not to interpret roses, and other things
that promise so much, in terms of human future;
to be no longer all that one used to be
in endlessly anxious hands, and to lay aside
even one’s proper name like a broken toy.
Strange, not to go on wishing one’s wishes. Strange,
to see all that was once relation so loosely fluttering
hither and thither in space. And it’s hard, being dead,
and full of retrieving before one begins to espy
a trace of eternity.—Yes, but all of the living
make the mistake of drawing to sharp distinctions.
Angels, (they say) are often unable to tell
whether they move among the living or the dead. the eternal
torrent whirls all the ages through either realm
for ever, and sounds above their voices in both.
They’ve finally no more need of us, the early-departed,
one’s gently weaned from terrestrial things as one mildly
outgrows the breasts of a mother. But we, that have need of
such mighty secrets, we, for whom sorrow’s so often
source of blessedest progress, could we exist without them?
Is the story in vain, how once, in the mourning for Linos,
venturing earliest music pierced barren numbness, and how,
in the horrified space an almost deified youth
suddenly quitted for ever, emptiness first
felt the vibration that now charms us and comforts and helps?

Rainer Maria Rilke (4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926) 

(translated from German by J.B. Leishman and Stephen Spender)

But For Nothing Less

ruskin peacock tailJohn Ruskin  (1819 – 1900)

I must stop writing because I’ve to draw a peacock’s breast-feather, and paint as much of it as I can without having heaven to dip my brush in. And when you have seen what it is, you shall despise it—if you can—for heaven itself. But for nothing less!

Published in: on April 19, 2014 at 7:55 pm  Comments (3)  
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Psalm

Pisanello (c. 1395 – probably 1455)Veritas sequitur …

In the small beauty of the forest
The wild deer bedding down—
That they are there!
                              Their eyes
Effortless, the soft lips
Nuzzle and the alien small teeth
Tear at the grass
                              The roots of it
Dangle from their mouths
Scattering earth in the strange woods.
They who are there.
                              Their paths
Nibbled thru the fields, the leaves that shade them
Hang in the distances
Of sun
                              The small nouns
Crying faith
In this in which the wild deer
Startle, and stare out.

George Oppen

Flower study; two pink rose buds starting to open. Watercolour, partly strengthened with gum, over graphite

    Jan van Huysum (April, 1682 - February, 1749)1682

Dried Leaves

“For several months in the winter of 1816-1817, Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld vied with his friends, brothers Ferdinand and Friedrich Olivier, in making precise drawings of dried leaves.”
National Gallery of Art

Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld

Thanks to http://illustrationart.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html & http://gardenhistorygirl.blogspot.com/2012/01/portraits-of-dried-leaves-by-friends.html