a17

v6

j55

j54

w21

a14

r1

o10

d5

A scent of ripeness from over a wall.
And come to leave the routine road
and look for what had made me stall,
there sure enough was an apple tree
that had eased itself of its summer load,
and of all but its trivial foliage free,
now breathed as light as a lady's fan.
For there there had been an apple fall
as complete as the apple had given man.
The ground was one circle of solid red.

May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan,
apples or something forgotten and left,
so smelling their sweetness would be no theft.


R.Frost

u5


The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh,
leaping upon the mountains,
skipping upon the hills.
My beloved is like a roe or a young deer:
Beh0ld, he standeth behind our wall,
he looketh in at the windows,
he showeth himself through the lattice.
My beloved spoke, and said unto me,
"Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
the flowers appear on the earth;
the time of the singing of birds has come,
and the voice of the turtledove is heard in the land;
the fig tree ripeneth her green figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth their fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock,
in the covert of the steep place,
let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice;
for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely."



The Song of Songs

b3




By nature, my old friend on East Mountain
treasures the beauty of hills and valleys.
Spring now green, you lie
in empty woods still sound asleep under a midday sun,
your robe growing lucid in pine winds,
rocky streams rinsing ear and heart clean.

No noise, no confusion—
all I want is this life pillowed high in emerald mist.

Li Po

b5


Milton, on his blindness:

When I consider how my light is spent, ere half my days,

in this dark world and wide,

and that one talent which is death to hide, lodged with me useless,

though my soul more bent to serve therewith my Maker,

and present my true account, lest He returning chide:

“Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?” I fondly ask;

but patience to prevent that murmur, soon replies:

“God doth not need either man’s works or His own gifts;

who best bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best;

His state is kingly; thousands at His bidding speed

and post over land and ocean without rest:

they also serve who only stand and wait.”



zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

ja9



Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the Lord with gladness:
Come before his presence with singing.
Know ye that the Lord he is God:
It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;
We are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,
And into his courts with praise:
Be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting;
And his truth endureth to all generations.

j67




Napped half the day—
no one
punished me.



Issa

c17



But because truly being here is so much;
because everything here apparently needs us,
this fleeting world,
which in some strange way keeps calling to us.
Us, the most fleeting of all.
Once for each thing.
Just once; no more.
And we too, just once, completely, even if only once:
to have been at one with the earth,
seems beyond undoing.

RMRilke

b19


Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.





TSEliot

b7


Oh come with me, my bride,
come down with me from Lebanon.
Look down from the peak of Amana,
look down from Senir and Hermon,
from the mountains of the leopards, the lion’s den.

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride,
ravished me with one glance of your eyes,
one link of your necklace.
And oh, your sweet loving, my sister, my bride.
The wine of your kisses, the spice of your fragrant oils.
Your lips are honey, honey and milk are under your tongue,
your clothes hold the scent of Lebanon.


Song of Solomon

c34



Deep peace of the running wave to you, of water flowing, rising and falling,
sometimes advancing, sometimes receding…
may the stream of your life flow unimpeded!
Deep peace of the running wave to you!

Deep peace of the flowing air to you, which fans your face on a sultry day,
the air which you breathe deeply, rhythmically,
which imparts to you energy, consciousness, life.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you!

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
who, herself unmoving,
harbours the movements and facilitates the life of the ten thousand creatures,
while resting contented, stable, tranquil.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you!

Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
which stay invisible till darkness falls and discloses their pure and shining presence
beaming down in compassion on our turning world.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you!


From the Gaelic

a15





I thank you God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky, and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(I who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday, this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)



EECummings