Happy Women's Day - Romantic Saxophone
Happy Women's Day - Romantic Saxophone
Happy Women's Day
Giovanni Marradi-For You Mom
Inspirational Woman Quotes
When women are the advisers,the lords of creation don't take the advice till they have persuaded themselves that it is just what they intended to do.Then they act upon it,and,if it succeeds,they give the weaker vessel half the credit of it.If it fails,they generously give her the whole.
Louisa May Alcott,Learning To Forget
I am no bird; and no net ensnares me:I am a free human being with an independent will.
There are only three things to be done with a woman.
You can love her,suffer for her,or turn her into literature.
Being a woman is a terribly difficult task,since it consists principally in dealing with men.
A lady's imagination is very rapid;it jumps from admiration to love,from love to matrimony in a moment.
Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice
I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures.
None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.
Jane Austen, Persuasion
Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate,no lock,no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.
Virginia Woolf,A Room of One's Own
The most beautiful makeup of a woman is passion. But cosmetics are easier to buy.
All the reasonings of men are not worth one sentiment of women.
MAILIED(Song Of Mai) by Johann Wolfgang Goethe
MAILIED(Song Of Mai)
Johann Wolfgang Goethe
The original Poem in German
Translation by John Sigerson
How grandly nature
Shines upon me!
How glistens the sun!
How laughs the mead!
From countless branches
The blossoms thrust,
A thousand voices
And joy ecstatic
O sun! O earth!
O risk! O fun!
O love, oh, lovely,
So golden fair
Like morning cloudlets
On that hill there!
You prosper grandly
The dew-fresh fields
With breath of flowers;
The whole Earth yields!
O maiden, maiden,
How I love thee!
Your eye's a-sparkle--
How you love me!
Just as the lark loves
Singing and sky,
And morning-blooms thrive
On heav'n-mists high--
So do I love you,
With throbbing heart,
Who give me the youth,
Joy, courage, art
To fashion new songs,
New dances free.
Be ever happy,
As you love me!
The German Original poem
Wie herrlich leuchtet
Mir die Natur!
Wie glänzt die Sonne,
Wie lacht die Flur!
Es dringen Blüten
Aus jedem Zweig,
Und tausend Stimmen
Aus dem Gesträuch,
Und Freud' und Wonne
Aus jeder Brust
O Erd', o Sonne!
O Glück, o Lust!
O Lieb', o Liebe!
So golden schön
Auf jenen Höhn
Du segnest herrlich,
Das frische Feld
Die volle Welt
O Mädchen, Mädchen
Wie lieb' ich dich
Wie blinkt dein Auge!
Wie liebst du mich!
So liebt die Lerche
Gesang und Luft
Wie ich dich liebe
Mit warmem Blut
Die du mir Jugend,
Und Freud' und Mut
Zu neuen Liedern
Und Tänzen gibst
Sei ewig glücklich
Wie du mich liebst !
Chant de Mai
De quelle sublime lumière
La nature m'inonde!
Comme le soleil resplendit!
Quelle allégresse dans ces campagnes!
De chaque rameau
Jaillissent les fleurs,
Mille voix chantent
Dans les buissons.
Joie et volupté
Jaillissent de chaque poitrine,
Oh Terre, oh soleil,
Oh bonheur, oh plaisir!
Oh Amour, Amour!
Aussi beau que l'or!
Comme les nuages de l'aube
Là-bas sur ces collines!
Tu offres ta sublime bénédiction
A la fraîcheur des champs
Et dans l' haleine des fleurs
Au monde épanoui.
Oh jeune fille, jeune fille,
Comme je t'aime,
Comme tes yeux brillent!
Comme tu m'aimes!
C'est ainsi que l'alouette
Aime le chant et les airs
Et les fleurs de l'aube
L'haleine du ciel.
De même que moi je t'aime
D'un sang ardent
Toi qui me donnes la jeunesse
La joie et le courage
De créer de nouveaux chants
Et de nouvelles danses
Que ton bonheur soit éternel
Comme ton amour pour moi!
You and your horse by Monica Dickens
You and your horse. His strength and beauty. Your knowledge and patience and determination and understanding and love. That's what fuses the two of you onto this marvelous partnership that makes you wonder, "What can heaven offer any better then what I have here on earth?
Sweet Dove by George Herbert
Listen, sweet Dove, unto my song,
And spread thy golden wings in me;
Hatching my tender heart so long,
Till it get wing, and flie away with Thee.
Paintings of Daniel Ridgway Knight
Inspirational Poetry On Friendship & love:Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light by Thomas Moore*I Thank You by Henry Timrod*Upon The Sand by Ella Wheeler Wilcox *If I Knew You by Nixon Waterman
>André Rieu-Romance For Clara
Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light
Oh! think not my spirits are always as light,
And as free from a pang as they seem to you now,
Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night
Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow.
No: -- life is a waste of wearisome hours,
Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,
Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
But send round the bowl,and be happy awhile --
May we never meet worse,in our pilgrimage here,
Than the tear that enjoyment may gild with a smile,
And the smile that compassion can turn to a tear.
The thread of our life would be dark, Heaven knows
If it were not with friendship and love intertwined;
And I care not how soon I may sink to repose,
When these blessing shall cease to be dear to my mind.
But they who have loved the fondest,the purest,
Too often have wept o'er the dream they believed;
And the heart that has slumber'd in friendship securest
Is happy indeed if 'twas never deceived.
But send round the bowl; while a relic of truth
Is in man or in woman, this prayer shall be mine,--
That the sunshine of love may illumine our youth,
And the moonlight of friendship console our decline.
Sonnet:I Thank You
I thank you,kind and best beloved friend,
With the same thanks one murmurs to a sister,
When,for some gentle favor,he hath kissed her,
Less for the gifts than for the love you send,
Less for the flowers,than what the flowers convey;
If I,indeed,divine their meaning truly,
And not unto myself ascribe,unduly,
Things which you neither meant nor wished to say,
Oh! tell me,is the hope then all misplaced?
And am I flattered by my own affection?
But in your beauteous gift,methought I traced
Something above a short-lived predilection,
And which,for that I know no dearer name,
I designate as love, without love’s flame.
Upon the Sand
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
All love that has not friendship for its base
Is like a mansion built upon the sand.
Though brave its walls as any in the land,
And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;
Though skilful and accomplished artists trace
Most beautiful designs on every hand,
And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,
And fountains play in some flow'r-hidden place:
Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust
Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall,
Day in,day out,against its yielding wall,
Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust.
Love,to endure life's sorrow and earth's woe,
Needs friendship's solid mason-work below.
If I Knew You
If I knew you and you knew me,
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine,
The meaning of your heart and mine,
I'm sure that we would differ less,
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree,
If I knew you and you knew me.
The greatest challenge of the day is: how to bring about a revolution of the heart, a revolution which has to start with each one of us?
Prayer of the Woods
Prayer of the Woods
From The Portuguese
I am the heat of your hearth on the cold winter nights,
the friendly shade screening you from the summer sun,
and my fruits are refreshing draughts quenching your
thirst as you journey on.
I am the beam that holds your house,the board of your
table, the bed on which you lie,and the timber that
builds your boat.
I am the handle of your hoe,the door of your homestead,the wood of your cradle, and the shell of your coffin.
I am the bread of kindness and the flower of beauty.
'Ye who pass by,
listen to my prayer: Harm me not.
By cultivating the beautiful we scatter the seeds of heavenly flowers, as by doing good we cultivate those that belong to humanity.
Flowers by M. M. Ballou
Leonid Afremov Art
Sweet letters of the angel tongue,
I've loved ye long and well,
And never have failed in your fragrance sweet
To find some secret spell,
A charm that has bound me with witching power,
For mine is the old belief,
That midst your sweets and midst your bloom,
There's a soul in every leaf!
M. M. Ballou, Flowers.
A Baby Running Barefoot by D.H. Lawrence
A Baby Running Barefoot
WHEN the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass
The little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind,
They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water;
And the sight of their white play among the grass
Is like a little robin’s song, winsome,
Or as two white butterflies settle in the cup of one flower
For a moment, then away with a flutter of wings.
I long for the baby to wander hither to me
Like a wind-shadow wandering over the water,
So that she can stand on my knee
With her little bare feet in my hands,
Cool like syringa buds,
Firm and silken like pink young peony flowers.
Reflections on Music:Of Music by Khalil Gibran
From"The voice of The master"
I sat by one whom my heart loves,and I listened to her words. My soul began to wander in the infinite spaces where the universe appeared like a dream,and the body like a narrow prison.
The enchanting voice of my Beloved entered my heart.
This is Music,oh friends,for I heard her through the sighs
of the one I loved,and through the words,half uttered between her lips.
With the eyes of my hearing I saw my Beloved’s heart.
My friends: Music is the language of spirits.
Its melody is like the frolicsome breeze that makes the strings quiver with love.
When the gentle fingers of Music knock at the door of our feelings,they awaken memories that have long been hidden in the depths of the Past.
The sad strains of Music bring us mournful recollections;
and her quiet strains bring us joyful memories.
The sound of strings makes us weep at the departure of
a dear one,or makes us smile at the peace God has
bestowed upon us.
The soul of Music is of the Spirit,and her mind is
of the Heart.
When God created Man,he gave him Music as a language
different from all other languages.And early man sang
her glory in the wilderness; and she drew the hearts
of kings and moved them from their thrones.
Our souls are like tender flowers at the mercy of the winds
of Destiny.They tremble in the morning breeze,and bend
their heads under the falling dews of heaven.
The song of the bird awakens Man from his slumber,and
invites him to join in the psalms of glory to Eternal
Wisdom that has created the song of the bird.
Such music makes us ask ourselves the meaning of
the mysteries contained in ancient books.
When the birds sing, do they call to the flowers in
the fields,or are they speaking to the trees,or are
they echoing the murmur of the brooks?
For Man with his understanding cannot know what
the bird is saying,nor what the brook is murmuring,
nor what the waves whisper when they touch the beaches
slowly and gently.
Man with his understanding cannot know what the rain
is saying when it falls upon the leaves of the trees
or when it taps at the window panes.He cannot know
what the breeze is saying to the flowers in the fields.
But the Heart of Man can feel and grasp the meaning of
those sounds that play upon his feelings.Eternal Wisdom
often speaks to him in a mysterious language;Soul and
Nature converse together, while Man stands speechless
Yet has not Man wept at the sounds? And are not his tears
Daughter of the Soul of Love
Vase of bitterness and of
Dream of the human heart, fruit
Flower of joy, fragrance and
bloom of feeling
Tongue of lovers, revealer of
Mother of the tears of hidden love
Inspirer of poets, composers,
Unity of thoughts within fragments
Designer of love out of beauty
Wine of the exulting heart in
a world of dreams
Heartener of warriors, and strengthener
Ocean of mercy and sea of tenderness
In your depths we deposit our hearts
taught us to see with our
And hear with our hearts.
Enlightenment Quote By Christina Feldman
If we demand enlightenment, it hides. . . . All that we can do is make ourselves enlightenment-prone. We learn to treasure the possibility of awakening in all moments and circumstances. We learn to simplify and cultivate the receptivity of heart that can be touched by profound understanding. We learn to listen deeply and discover stillness amid the movement in our world.
On Flowers By Ralph Waldo Emerson
Flowers and fruits are always fit presents; flowers, because they are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all of the utilities of the world. These gay natures contrast with the somewhat stern countenance of ordinary nature: they are like music heard out of a work-house.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Where dwell hope and truth by ANNE S. BUSHBY/Childhood Quote
And where, on earth, dwell hope and truth?
In childhood's uncorrupted heart;
Alas! too soon to guileless youth
The world doth its dark code impart!
ANNE S. BUSHBY, "The Morn of Life"
Karl Popper On Civilization
Our civilization has not yet fully recovered from the shock of its birth — the transition from the tribal or 'closed society', with its submission to magical forces, to the 'open society' which sets free the critical powers of man.
The shock of this transition is one of the factors that have made possible the rise of those reactionary movements which have tried, and still try, to overthrow civilization and to return to tribalism.
Karl Popper On Rationalism & Critical Thinking
There are many difficulties impeding the rapid spread of reasonableness. One of the main difficulties is that it always takes two to make a discussion reasonable. Each of the parties must be ready to learn from the other. You cannot have a rational discussion with a man who prefers shooting you to being convinced by you.
A rationalist, as I use the word, is a man who attempts to reach decisions by argument and perhaps, in certain cases, by compromise, rather than by violence. He is a man who would rather be unsuccessful in convincing another man by argument than successful in crushing him by force,by intimidation and threats,or even by persuasive propaganda.
The genuine rationalist does not think that he or anyone else is in possession of the truth; nor does he think that mere criticism as such helps us achieve new ideas. But he does think that, in the sphere of ideas, only critical discussion can help us sort the wheat from the chaff. He is well aware that acceptance or rejection of an idea is never a purely rational matter; but he thinks that only critical discussion can give us the maturity to see an idea from more and more sides and to make a correct judgement of it.
If we are uncritical we shall always find what we want: we shall look for, and find, confirmations, and we shall look away from, and not see, whatever might be dangerous to our pet theories...