unfulfilled love - unrequited love - love relinquished - life unlived...
we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imaginedand/or real - come along with me -we'll danceamong the stars under the sun and over the moon - we'll share our stories of love around the campfire -come along -
poetry from the heart...
POETRY FROM THE HEART - my own words dedicated to all the words left unspoken, the acts left undone - the love unlived unfulfilled -
i dance with you...only in dreams...
WANDER OVER TO MY OTHER CAMPFIRES and LEAVE ME A NOTE IN THE SAND...
I don't know why but this poem brought to my mind some words by Aragon. So beautifully written in French, so hard to translate into any other language, so I tried but not too hard...
But why do they rise each morning Disarmed and uncertain in the evening Say this my love and fight back your tears There is no happiness in love
Maybe true, maybe not. I would say too often very true. There is no happiness in love and this is our downfall.
how utterly beautiful those words of aragon, roger - much as i admire them, i must disagree, though, as i'm sure you knew i would - because for me, there is no happiness without love - why else do i rise each morning, i ask - only for love - thank you so much for your own words and for those of our aragon!
don't you love this image, nevine! it's a detail of a larger image but i thought it perfect for this little verse - glad you liked! your comments always mean a lot, lady!
again, steppenwolf, i am humbled by your own words - sometimes my favorite little pieces are those that just "pour" out without my knowing it really - such as this one did - i know you know what i mean!
8 comments:
Yeow! Beautifully done, Gypsy!
thanks so much trish - don't you love this image? another image of which i've used a detail - but it seemed made for this little verse -
I don't know why but this poem brought to my mind some words by Aragon. So beautifully written in French, so hard to translate into any other language, so I tried but not too hard...
But why do they rise each morning
Disarmed and uncertain in the evening
Say this my love and fight back your tears
There is no happiness in love
Maybe true, maybe not. I would say too often very true. There is no happiness in love and this is our downfall.
Our nemesis...
Roger
how utterly beautiful those words of aragon, roger - much as i admire them, i must disagree, though, as i'm sure you knew i would - because for me, there is no happiness without love - why else do i rise each morning, i ask - only for love - thank you so much for your own words and for those of our aragon!
Oh, this is spooky and exquisite and ghostly and real! So few words... such strong images! Wow, Jenean!
Nevine
don't you love this image, nevine! it's a detail of a larger image but i thought it perfect for this little verse - glad you liked! your comments always mean a lot, lady!
Yes! You told the story in a breath. Superbly evocative imagery. That is writing. Hats off to Gypsywoman
again, steppenwolf, i am humbled by your own words - sometimes my favorite little pieces are those that just "pour" out without my knowing it really - such as this one did - i know you know what i mean!
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