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PhotographyAnd due to the new category “art” in my blog (no idea why I haven’t come up with that earlier), I am posting a slightly changed picture I found a long time ago in the internet – which is my new desktop background now.
It reminds me of a poem I discovered in Norway about a year ago:
Sad Madrigal
I.
What does it matter to me if you are wise?
Be beautiful! And be sad! Tears
Add charm to a face,
Like a river to a landscape;
Storms rejuvenate flowers.
I love you most when joy
Flees your downcast face;
When your heart drowns in horror;
When upon your present face
The dreadful cloud of the past reveals itself.
I love you when your large eyes spill
Water as hot as blood;
When, despite my comforting hand,
Your too-heavy anguish breaks through
Like the death-rattle of a dying man.
I breathe in — divine delight!
Profound, delicious hymn! —
All of the sobs in your breast,
And I cannot help but believe that your heart is illuminated
By the pearls that flow from your eyes.
II.
I know that your heart, glutted
With old, uprooted loves,
Still blazes like a forge,
And that you shelter in your breast
A little of the pride of the damned;
But so long, my dear, as your dreams
Have not reflected Hell,
And in a ceaseless nightmare —
Dreaming of poison and blades,
Smitten with gunpowder and iron,
Only opening the door with fear,
Reading signs of misfortune everywhere,
Shrinking when the bell tolls the hour —
You have not felt the embrace
Of irresistible Disgust,
You cannot, slave queen
Who loves me only out of terror,
In the horror of the sickly night,
Say to me, your soul filled with screams:
“I am your equal, oh my King!”
