Speak not always
Of the leaves
Prey of wind
Of ripe quinces
Smashed to pieces
Of the tread
Of the destroyer
Late in the year.
Of the trembling
In the storm
And the lights

[Stefan George]

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7 Responses to leaves

  1. paridevita says:

    Today is Cindy’s birthday; she would have been 55. Her pictures; poem translated from the German by me.

  2. Desert Dweller says:

    Great sentiments, including in your frosty advance of fall…perfect.

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks. Surprisingly, the weather people promised a killing frost, but it didn’t happen here. Mist all day Sunday—amazing and totally cool–and the mist froze on the leaves, but not in the leaves.
      The path along the creek was thick with frost this morning, but that’s a little lower down than the garden, and cold air drains right down the creek.


  3. Αιώνια η μνήμη της Eternal be her memory (the refrain of the Orthodox Memorial service)
    The photography is meltingly beautiful, as is your translation.
    You make Goldengrove unleaving positively festive, Bob.

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks. I didn’t know these pictures existed, or at least most of them. The poetry as well.I knew she spent a lot of time scribbling in notebooks, but she never wanted me to look at them, so I didn’t.
      Figured I would do sort of a festival in honor of her birthday.


  4. She was brilliant at capturing the raindrops. Inspirational.

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