El Montgó emprende la senda tranquila del ir envejeciendo.
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| © Eduardo Ruigómez - Parque natural del Montgó (2009) |
domingo, 14 de septiembre de 2014
Montgó
Frente a una vestal que alimenta el fuego destructor, el parque que une a Denia y Jávea se rinde a la acción de la sacerdotisa. Arden 444 hectáreas del parque natural del Mongó. Todos nos quemamos con el Montgó. Tenemos que frenar la desertización de nuestros bosques. Si ellos mueren, morimos todos.
El Montgó emprende la senda tranquila del ir envejeciendo.
El Montgó emprende la senda tranquila del ir envejeciendo.
sábado, 13 de septiembre de 2014
Helios
"Brave Helios wake up your steeds, Bring the warmth the countryside needs."
THE DAY BEGINS
Cold-hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by.
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,
Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Nighttime, to some, a brief interlude,
To others, the fear of solitude.
Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.
The Moody Blues - Days of Future Passed (1967)
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| Mengs - Helios como personificación del mediodía (1765) |
THE DAY BEGINS
Cold-hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by.
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,
Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Nighttime, to some, a brief interlude,
To others, the fear of solitude.
Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.
The Moody Blues - Days of Future Passed (1967)
jueves, 11 de septiembre de 2014
La mirada al pasado en tiempos de crisis
Mientras Ernest Renan vocea la apatía de una sociedad cansada y lanza mensajes que despierten ilusión, el movimiento prerrafaelista observa por el retrovisor con la mirada nostálgica puesta en el Renacimiento. La decadencia tiene estos tics de mirada bífida, hacia atrás y hacia adelante, con el riesgo de caer en la pasividad que provoca el desconcierto reinante.
Merece la pena una o dos visitas a la exposición Alma-Tadema y la pintura victoriana en el Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza de Madrid. Un cuadro de Sir John Everett Millais, La corona del amor, nos muestra a una pareja en la que el hombre avanza con decisión hacia adelante mientras lleva en brazos a su amante. Ella, orientada hacia atrás, se sujeta con los brazos alrededor de su cuello, al que parece leer en sus ojos el destino que les espera. Mientras tanto, el frufrú de su vestido de seda lanza los gemidos del amor conquistado y la seguridad perdida en la lejanía.
El miedo y la esperanza, la incertidumbre de lo desconocido y la certeza de lo sabido, toda la puesta en escena despierta la tensión de los tiempos victorianos.
THE CROWN OF LOVE
George Meredith
1859
O might I load my arms with thee,
Like that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
Merece la pena una o dos visitas a la exposición Alma-Tadema y la pintura victoriana en el Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza de Madrid. Un cuadro de Sir John Everett Millais, La corona del amor, nos muestra a una pareja en la que el hombre avanza con decisión hacia adelante mientras lleva en brazos a su amante. Ella, orientada hacia atrás, se sujeta con los brazos alrededor de su cuello, al que parece leer en sus ojos el destino que les espera. Mientras tanto, el frufrú de su vestido de seda lanza los gemidos del amor conquistado y la seguridad perdida en la lejanía.
El miedo y la esperanza, la incertidumbre de lo desconocido y la certeza de lo sabido, toda la puesta en escena despierta la tensión de los tiempos victorianos.
.jpg) |
| John Everett Millais - The crown of love (1875) |
The Crown Of Love
O might I load my arms with thee,
Like that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/The-Crown-Of-Love#sthash.apQ4qvFe.dpufLike that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
THE CROWN OF LOVE
George Meredith
1859
O might I load my arms with thee,
Like that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
The Crown Of Love
O might I load my arms with thee,
Like that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/The-Crown-Of-Love#sthash.apQ4qvFe.dpufLike that young lover of Romance
Who loved and gained so gloriously
The fair Princess of France!
Because he dared to love so high,
He, bearing her dear weight, shall speed
To where the mountain touched on sky:
So the proud king decreed.
Unhalting he must bear her on,
Nor pause a space to gather breath,
And on the height she will be won;
And she was won in death!
Red the far summit flames with morn,
While in the plain a glistening Court
Surrounds the king who practised scorn
Through such a mask of sport.
She leans into his arms; she lets
Her lovely shape be clasped: he fares.
God speed him whole! The knights make bets:
The ladies lift soft prayers.
O have you seen the deer at chase?
O have you seen the wounded kite?
So boundingly he runs the race,
So wavering grows his flight.
- My lover! linger here, and slake
Thy thirst, or me thou wilt not win.
- See'st thou the tumbled heavens? they break!
They beckon us up and in.
- Ah, hero-love! unloose thy hold:
O drop me like a cursed thing.
- See'st thou the crowded swards of gold?
They wave to us Rose and Ring.
- O death-white mouth! O cast me down!
Thou diest? Then with thee I die.
- See'st thou the angels with their Crown?
We twain have reached the sky.
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