learning the meanings of latin phrases …

some highlights:
carpe diem – “pluck the day” (as in plucking/picking flowers)
horas non numero nisi serenas – “i do not count the hours unless they are sunny” (a common inscription on sundials)
alis grave nil – “nothing is heavy to those who have wings”
alma mater – “nourishing mother” (suggests that students are “fed” knowledge & taken care of by the university)

songs …

waltz for debbie, by the bill evans trio. ground-breaking jazz with an enticing sound.

scratch, by kendall payne. great song, amazing lyrics. enough said.

places …

lucca, italy – where my nonno (grandpa) is from & where i vow to visit someday

changing seasons …

to read a poem in january is as lovely as to go for a walk in june.   – jean-paul sartre 

no spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace
as I have seen in one autumnal face.
– elegy, john donne

don’t you love new york in the fall? it makes me wanna buy school supplies. i would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if i knew your name and address. on the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.
– joe fox, you’ve got mail

poetry …

          anna october, a moment

crisp mid-fall night

fingertips slowly tracing…

big hands, little hands

your soft sighs, my silliness

how is maple made? 

(write me poetry, and i melt.)

     *        *        *        *        *          

      Since Feeling is First

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

 wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
–the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for eachother: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis
(E.E. Cummings)

        *        *        *        *        * 

    Sweet Dancer

The girl goes dancing there
On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth
Grass plot of the garden;
Escaped from bitter youth,
Escaped out of her crowd,
Or out of her black cloud.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer!

If strange men come from the house
To lead her away, do not say
That she is happy being crazy;
Lead them gently astray;
Let her finish her dance,
Let her finish her dance.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer!
(William Butler Yeats)


One Response

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