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Author: eklastic
Wisdom

The Red Mosque in the palace gardens of Schwetzingen is decorated with translated wisdom from the Arabic, or at least what was considered to be oriental in the 18th century. But regardless of the origin, the saying holds true: Often a well-meant advice is perceived as harsh criticism, as being adverse.
Swallow Hard
because your babies have a face only a mother could love.
And she does!
The Ragtag Daily Prompt: Swallow
Abstract Sculptures
Some of these are in parks, some in the front of large buildings, others are almost dumped unceremoniously in a corner of a free space between two roads. None are really the center of attention. All are non-representational.
Patient Men Will Eat Ripe Fruit
Today’s RDP prompt is autumn. Now, although it already feels like autumn technically it is still summer. Yet the autumn fruits are being harvested, the first pumpkins and squashes are at the market, apples and pears are ripe for the picking, the grapes need a few more day.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt: Autumn
My (and every second German’s) favourite autumn poem, written by Rainer Maria Rilke in 1902 in the Paris:
Herbsttag
Herr, es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß.
Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,
und auf den Fluren lass die Winde los.
Befiehl den letzten Früchten, voll zu sein;
gib ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage,
dränge sie zur Vollendung hin, und jage
die letzte Süße in den schweren Wein.
Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.
Wer jetzt allein ist, wird es lange bleiben,
wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben
und wird in den Alleen hin und her
unruhig wandern, wenn die Blätter treiben.
Here is a translation, not a bad one by any means but obviously poems suffer in translation:
Autumn Day (English)
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.
Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.
(translated by Edward Snow)


























