Monday, May 21, 2012

hafiz | saints bowing in the mountains

Do you know how beautiful you are?
I think not, my dear.
For as you talk of God,
I see great parades with wildly colourful bands
Streaming from your mind and heart,
Carrying wonderful and secret messages
To every corner of this world.
I see saints bowing in the mountains
Hundreds of miles away
To the wonder of sounds
That break into light
From your most common words.
Speak to me of your mother,
Your cousins and your friends.
Tell me of squirrels and birds you know.
Awaken your legion of nightingales—
Let them soar wild and free in the sky.
And begin to sing to God.
Let's all begin to sing to God!
Do you know how beautiful you are?
I think not, my dear,
Yet Hafiz
Could set you upon a Stage
And worship you forever!

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

new yorker | god of sport

click to enlarge

The New Yorker
March 26, 2012
January 16, 2012

Friday, May 04, 2012

harry kessler | like medieval cathedrals

The Russian composer Nicolas Nabokov recalled that Kessler viewed works of art as "living creatures belonging to the same species as himself." He writes wonderfully of the importance of revisiting the deepest works at different stages of one's life, for they will change appearance, "like medieval cathedrals at different times of the day." Make haste when you are young, he advises, or "it is too late, and you have missed the morning light of the masterpieces." Such light floods the journals of Kessler's youth, when he believed that one painting or poem could change the world.

from Diary of an Aesthete, by Alex Ross
The New Yorker, April 23, 2012 portrait by Edward Munch