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Letter X
 

CONVINCED by my preceding letters, you agree with me on this point, that man can depart from his destination by two opposite roads, that our epoch is actually moving on these two false roads, and that it has become the prey, in one case, of coarseness, and elsewhere of exhaustion and depravity. It is the beautiful that must bring it back from this twofold departure. But how can the cultivation of the fine arts remedy, at the same time, these opposite defects, and unite in itself two contradictory qualities? Can it bind nature in the savage, and set it free in the barbarian? Can it at once tighten a spring and loose it, and if it cannot produce this double effect, how will it be reasonable to expect from it so important a result as the education of man? 

 

  It may be urged that it is almost a proverbial adage that the feeling developed by the beautiful refines manners, and any new proof offered on the subject would appear superfluous. Men base this maxim on daily experienc...

October 24, 2015

Part Four: Time and Eternity

X

 

I DIED for beauty, but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb,

When one who died for truth was lain

In an adjoining room.

  

He questioned softly why I failed?

“For beauty,” I replied.

“And I for truth,—the two are one;

We brethren are,” he said.

  

And so, as kinsmen met a night,

We talked between the rooms,      

Until the moss had reached our lips,

And covered up our names.
 

Emily Dickinson, without doubt, earned her title as one of the Masters of Literature. From the hundreds of poems she wrote throughout her life, even if she stored them secret in her desk drawer, comes the life of poetry, the spirit of art, the inspiration of writing, and the eternal aspects of Beauty and Truth.

“I died for beauty” is poem full of spiritual, artistic, and humanistic allegories which transcend time, space, and even death. Although there are many interpretations and analysis for this poem, the words contain a deeper meaning that will always reflect to the...

October 19, 2015

Language, color, form, and religious and civil habits of action, are all the instruments and materials of poetry; they may be called poetry by that figure of speech which considers the effect as a synonym of the cause. But poetry in a more restricted sense expresses those arrangements of language, and especially metrical language, which are created by that imperial faculty, whose throne is curtained within the invisible nature of man. And this springs from the nature itself of language, which is a more direct representation of the actions and passions of our internal being, and is susceptible of more various and delicate combinations, than color, form, or motion, and is more plastic and obedient to the control of that faculty of which it is the creation. For language is arbitrarily produced by the imagination, and has relation to thoughts alone; but all other materials, instruments, and conditions of art have relations among each other, which limit and interpose between conception and...

June 18, 2015



They say that when we fall in love it is forever, and perhaps that is true. Even though we change who we are through time, through our life experiences, through emotions, through the dreams and hopes we follow, we remember and we forget; and even though those whom we love change as well . . . Love persists in our souls eternally, as a timeless flame.


~
 

"A Poet to his Beloved"
by William Butler Yeats
 

I bring you with reverent hands
the books of m numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time;
White woman with numberless dreams
I bring you my passionate rhyme.

~
 

And if you shall ever try to measure love, measure it in passion; remember all the things that your lover did for you, how much your lover inspired you, how much he/she admires you, and how much he/she cares for you. And if you ever let him be, or let her be, then let it be, beca...

May 28, 2015

Listen . . . Do you hear that?

Perhaps it’s hard to hear with all those cars running by, or with all the rumbling and grumbling the factories make when you pass by. But the music of sound is always playing for those who listen.

 

William Wordsworth (1770-1850) may be one of the best icons to represent the Romantic Movement. With the Lyrical Ballads composed with his friend Samuel Coleridge and many marvelous poems he wrote throughout his life, Wordsworth proves to be a Master of Literature as he presents us beauty and truth.

 

The Masters of Literature are not only masters by their control, wisdom and connectivity with words; they speak the truth through them. And I'm not only talking about facts, ideas, political statements, or cultural representations, I'm talking about all of them mixed together inside the writer's mind, like a fruit punch made of the soul's most natural fruits, by which makes the artist who he/she truly is. Wordsworth (As a true Romantic) described to write his poems...

May 17, 2015

Following the Parnassian French poets of the late 19th century, comes one named Paul Verlaine, whose writings lead to inspire and shape the twentieth-century free verse. Hereby I shall present to you “The Art of Poetry”
 

The Art of Poetry

by Paul Verlaine
 

You must have music first of all,
and for that a rhythm uneven is best.
vague in the air and soluble,
with nothing heavy and nothing at rest.

 

You must not scorn to do some wrong
in choosing the words to fill your lines:
nothing more dear than the tipsy song
where the Undefined and Exact combine.

 

It is veiled and lovely eye,
The full noon quivering with light;
it is, in cool of an autumn sky,
the blue confusion of stars at night!

 

Never the Color, always the Shade,
always the nuance is supreme!
Only by shade is the trothal made
between the flue and horn, of dream with dream!

 

Epigram’s an assassin! Keep
away from him, fierce Wit, and vicious
laughter makes the Azure keep,
and from all that garlic vulgar dishes!

 

...

May 16, 2015

Soft, smooth surface like milk made flesh… Airy sway of millions and trillions of strings as if the wind were sweetly kissing the meadow…two dreamlike galaxies which emphasize a soaring brilliance into a charming Eden of delight…and a precious melodic voice so innocent, so mysterious and natural in sound that graces God’s name for such creation in the perfect time sung.

 

Symbolism is a very visual writing technique, it makes you appreciate that in a more vivid matter; that which is not named but felt by the letters that fly around and describe it. Stepháne Mallarmé (mahl-ahr-may’) presents a more elaborated approach of this, in one of his interviews:

“The Evolution of Literature;” by Jules Huret (a French journalist) in 1891:

 

“As far as content is concerned,” Mallarmé answered, “I feel that the young poets are nearer than the Parnassians to the poetic ideal. The latter still treat their subjects as the hold philosophers and orators did: that is, they pr...

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Art, Music & Literature:
Facundo Raganato

Artistic Photographs of The Author:
Scott Redinger-Libolt
www.redphoto.com

Book Cover Design:
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Book Cover Photo:
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