Saturday, June 3, 2006

How To Wax Your Own Underarms




"Daffodils" (1804)

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).



I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch'd in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils ( yA )



Thursday, June 1, 2006

Little Red Wagon Invitations

nine hundred

Salvador Dali ( The endless enigma ) 1938 (never ending enigma )



Poems of Giuseppe Ungaretti (1888-1970)

VIGIL

Top Four December 23, 1915

whole night
thrown to a teammate near

massacred
with
gritted his mouth once

full moon with the congestion
of his hands
penetrated

I wrote in my silence
letters full of love

I've never been so

attached to life


Salvador Dali ( The premonition of civil war ) 1936 ( The premonition of a civil war )


ARE A CREATURE

1916

As of this stone
S. Michele

so cold so hard so
well drained
refractory
So totally disheartened



As this stone is my cry that is not seen


Death
of rebate
living



Paul Gaugin "Where we come from? What are we? Where are we going? " 1897 "Where We Come From?" What we are? Where are we going? "


MORNING

Santa Maria La Longa January 26, 1917

M'illumino
of immense.




SOLDIERS

Woods Courton July 1918

It is as
autumn trees

leaves.



Tom Porta "fellow friends" (allarmi2-Como 2006)




Poetry Salvatore Quasimodo (1901-1968)

ED NOW

sera [from water and lands (1930)]


Everyone is just the heart of the earth
pierced by a ray of sunshine:
and is now evening.