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Dornhaldenfriedhof
ghettofisch, Sonntag, 15. April 2012, 21:24
[Thema: Stuttgart]
Wie kann ich es Ihnen denn zukommen lassen?
ghettofisch,
Dienstag, 17. April 2012, 02:19
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Mengeringhausen
p.m., Sonntag, 15. April 2012, 16:15
[Thema: Bad Arolsen]
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Marsberg
p.m., Sonntag, 15. April 2012, 16:12
[Thema: Juedischer Friedhof]
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p.m., Samstag, 14. April 2012, 11:00
[Thema: Ottrau]
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p.m., Samstag, 14. April 2012, 10:59
[Thema: Ottrau]
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dergeschichtenerzaehler, Mittwoch, 11. April 2012, 01:08
[Thema: Pere Lachaise]
Ich mag die Balance von Sepia und Patina.
flohbude,
Donnerstag, 12. April 2012, 00:08
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gehweg, Dienstag, 10. April 2012, 03:00
[Thema: Feste Dilsberg]
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gehweg, Dienstag, 10. April 2012, 02:59
[Thema: Feste Dilsberg]
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Marsberg
p.m., Montag, 9. April 2012, 11:42
[Thema: Juedischer Friedhof]
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Grasmere
mark793, Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 02:11
[Thema: England]
A POET'S EPITAPH
ART thou a Statist in the van
Of public conflicts trained and bred?
--First learn to love one living man;
'Then' may'st thou think upon the dead.
A Lawyer art thou?--draw not nigh!
Go, carry to some fitter place
The keenness of that practised eye,
The hardness of that sallow face.
Art thou a Man of purple cheer?
A rosy Man, right plump to see?
Approach; yet, Doctor, not too near,
This grave no cushion is for thee.
Or art thou one of gallant pride,
A Soldier and no man of chaff?
Welcome!--but lay thy sword aside,
And lean upon a peasant's staff.
Physician art thou? one, all eyes,
Philosopher! a fingering slave,
One that would peep and botanise
Upon his mother's grave? 20
Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece,
O turn aside,--and take, I pray,
That he below may rest in peace,
Thy ever-dwindling soul, away!
A Moralist perchance appears;
Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod:
And he has neither eyes nor ears;
Himself his world, and his own God;
One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling
Nor form, nor feeling, great or small;
A reasoning, self-sufficing thing,
An intellectual All-in-all!
Shut close the door; press down the latch;
Sleep in thy intellectual crust;
Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch
Near this unprofitable dust.
But who is He, with modest looks,
And clad in homely russet brown?
He murmurs near the running brooks
A music sweeter than their own.
He is retired as noontide dew,
Or fountain in a noon-day grove;
And you must love him, ere to you
He will seem worthy of your love.
The outward shows of sky and earth,
Of hill and valley, he has viewed;
And impulses of deeper birth
Have come to him in solitude.
cemetery,
Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 11:21
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Grasmere
mark793, Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 02:08
[Thema: England]
Englische Gräber, sehr schön. Fotos von dort erfreuen mich immer ganz besonders, vielen Dank.
cemetery,
Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 11:17
Gern geschehen. Wie ich sehe, haben Sie auch gleich das passende Poem dazugestellt. Sehr schön!
mark793,
Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 11:37
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Grasmere
mark793, Sonntag, 8. April 2012, 02:05
[Thema: England]
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