The Red Rose and the Nightingale

… two silhouettes below the blossom…

 

‘Rosa Meditativa’ - Salvador Dali

 

To Natalie

(as I wrote on her birthday card a few years ago…)

 

Life is not a bed of roses –

We kiss the pain the minute we are born

And I am glad,

For, it’s the rose that causes

Much greater bane

When in your heart it stabs its thorn!

                         

So did a nightingale once chirp, they say,

And singing its most precious song

It passed away…

The scarlet sweetness of its blood

Thus oozed onto the Rose’s bud

To keep in rain, in hail, in snow

The crimson beauty of its Glow…

 

 

 

Links to “The Nightingale and the Rose” - a beautiful short story by Oscar Wilde:

Bulgarian: story

English: story

Spanish: story

Russian: story

French: story

 

Train-troping

… standstill… dash… destiny… destination…

 

Moving on

Here I am again –

Moving fast towards the unknown.

It’s so soothing,

that sensation on the train –

When you travel

for the sake of travelling…

            Expected by no-one…

            Feeling no pain…

            Looking for nothing…

I

Have all the time

Within this Universe

Just to myself!

 

Moving on…

… not scared to be alone.

 

Yet, it hurts a bit to realize:

No matter what you might be willing,

You can’t (actually) kill yourself

For the mere sake of…

   killing.

 

Flickering Flame

Warming...

Facts & Con [Sequence]

We were. That’s all.

And just about enough

to let us Be.

Eternity:

Dry flowers on the wall.

Still, the fragrance of time…

A drop of wax,

an empty candlestick,

the flame is gone.

Yet, memories are flickering…

Were we?

Was that all?!