Friday, 27 July 2012 @09:47
"When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple".
Oh yes, maybe we ought to practice a little now. It's never too early.
(I love poems that travel around the world, just because people love them. Poems that make you smile, poems that you can wear, like an old, shabby red hat)
Friday, 20 July 2012 @08:10
"Ce qui m’intéresse c’est l’instant présent, il faut trouver chaque jour matière à être ravi."
(Jacques Henri Lartigue)
Jacques Henri Lartigue. Sa photo, la photo en blanc et noir d’un jeune homme aux années 1920, au bord de la mer, l’êté, m’a longtemps souri parmi mes livres…
Friday, 13 July 2012 @08:23
"At the end of this sentence, rain will begin.
At the rain’s edge, a sail".
At the rain’s edge, a new world.
Derek Walcott was born in 1930 on the island of Saint Lucia, West Indies. Shades and shadows of Caribbean in his poetry. And summer’s rain.
Friday, 6 July 2012 @08:45
"The finding affirms a grand view of the universe described by simple and elegant and symmetrical laws – but one in which everything interesting, like ourselves, results from flaws or breaks in that simmetry"
There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.
Today’s Buongiorno is about the poetry of the universe: an excerpt from a New York Times article, on the Higgs boson particle discovery at Cern. The comment is not mine: Leonard Cohen’s words from a song. Beauty is everywhere.
Yes, I write. Yes, I believe in the magic of words. That’s why you’ll find me here, every Friday: Lisa “globish”!
I believe in the magic of words, and I believe Piazza Unità in Trieste, where I was born, is the most romantic square in the world. (And yes, it’s in Italy, proudly facing the sea). I love roses in every form. And, of course, I do love my blog, expecially now that I can carry it around on my iPhone.