Amor estival:Ninfas y libélulasen el estanque. Estanque de los nenúfares Jardín Botánico de Brooklyn
Ninfas y libélulas
Amor estival:Ninfas y libélulasen el estanque. Estanque de los nenúfares Jardín Botánico de Brooklyn
A new friend has arrived to enrich my life. Richard Wagamese is speaking to me from the pages of his Embers: One Ojibway's Meditations, a poetic photobook of vital philosophy. I have welcomed his arrival at La Libélula, a sacred land in Tárcoles, Puntarenas--sacred to me, at least, and to the animate beings that are … Continue reading Wagamese: Light
Hoy reinicié la lectura de la colección de poemas en prosa, Regalo de amante, de Rabindranath Tagore. Evocan al Cantar de los Cantares de la poesía hebrea. El tercer poema me hizo salir a mi jardín, acá en San José, a admirar y fotografiar el arbusto (nombre científico por identificar) que ha dado fruto. Transcribo … Continue reading Tagore: El jardín
Magnolias rosa se entregan al placer de Primavera. Jardín Botánico de Brooklyn
Primavera arrived this week with her sun-golden hair, azure eyes, and fragrance of flowering cherries. She lit my heart. Today, however, she has withdrawn, hiding her countenance behind the overcast sky, shedding cold rain-tears, and silencing her voice of robin-songs as the wind howls the tale of enduring winter. I took a walk in the … Continue reading Shelley: If Winter Comes?
Hoy Maya se fue a la luz, como dicen mis hermanas. Quizá a la luz gentil de los amaneceres, o la dorada de los atardeceres, en Tárcoles, donde creció en La Libélula. Mayita en la playa Cuando supe que se fue, me quedé un poco desorientado en Brooklyn, sin saber qué hacer: si caminar por … Continue reading Maya: Luz
It has been a winter without snow in Brooklyn, this New York City borough geographically located in Long Island. The waters of the Atlantic must be warm because I've only seen a dusting, at the beginning of February. Yesterday, though, a few snowflakes fell in the afternoon, and that was enough to thrill me for … Continue reading Pennsylvania: After the Storm
Casi no ha nevado este invierno y la última vez fue hace más de dos semanas. Al primer amanecer de febrero me levanté y cuando miré hacia el jardín, a través de la ventana del comedor, me sorprendió una delgada capa de nieve que cubría las plantas y el suelo. Había nevado de madrugada, en … Continue reading Nieve en febrero
We welcomed the New Year on the shores of the Bosphorus. The fireworks' explosion of color and sound startled the flocks of seagulls that flew overhead. The late night fog swept in from the water into the land, enveloping the people's happiness, and ours, as if in a veil of mystic rapture. That was one … Continue reading Rumi: A Stringed Instrument
I have been gazing at the mosques of Istanbul--elegant, with grand semi-spherical domes and their lean minarets. These point heavenward, as if they could pierce the sky's grander azure dome. What do they mean, at least to me? One of Rumi's rubaiyat has given me the key to interpretation. They symbolize not ambition but liberation--that … Continue reading Rumi: Liberation