Chris Killip
Beech tree in mist, the Dhoon
1970 - 1973
(via anthonylozada)
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities -i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing winter by spring, i lift my diminutive spire to merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
e.e.
Marc Ferrez :: Ipanema, Rio de Janeiro, ca. 1895 / src: brasiliana.fotografica.bn
(via lacalaveracatrina)
“Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
― William Butler Yeats
Hugo Simberg. Elli, Karl and Ellen von Schoultz in their home in Vyborg, 1897.
(via lacalaveracatrina)
Walt Whitman, “O Living, Always Dying”, Leaves of Grass
[Text ID: “O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at where I cast them,
To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses behind.”]