Everything/Anything and…Chess…"Despite the documented evidence by chess historian HJR Murray, I've always thought that chess was invented by a goddess"–George Koltanowski: from the foreword to:"Women in chess, players of the Modern Age"
An old school – An undiscovered gem: Gawie Cronje, South African landscape artist who lived in the Eastern Cape
I’m a big art lover and have blogged before some of our very best artists like Pierneef and Walter Battis, the creator of Fook Island, Bettie Cilliers-Barnard and Tretchikoff to name only a few. I must admit that until now, Gawie Cronje was really unknown to me. I found today babobski’s blog and was quite surprised to discover this piece of brilliant art.
The Brett Kebble art collection went on auction last week and raised R 54 million. Some artists’ paintings received record prices, which is quite amazing in this economic climate.
Yet, art experts have been saying for at least five years now that South African art is a good investment and should form part of a diversified portfolio.
Many people, when hearing about art and oil paintings tend to think about Van Gogh and Van Rijn. However, there are secondary art markets around the world and South Africa has a flourishing art market as well.
Kebble’s collection included the big names in South African art. J.H. Pierneef, Alexis Preller, Irma Stern, Nita Spilhaus, Maud Sumner, Vladimir G. Tretchikoff, Jan Volschenk and Pieter Wenning were just some of the names Kebble had collected.
One of the Irma Stern painting sold for R 5 013 000 at the auction, held in Johannesburg.
His Pierneef sold for R 267 000 and a Jan Volschenk achieved a world record price of R 668 000.
Not all of us have the resources of a Brett Kebble so how does one go about collecting art?
What could you buy with R 1 000 000?
A good JH Pierneef or an Irma Stern if you lucky.
What could I buy with R 100 000?
Keep your eyes open for an Adriaan Boshoff or an Errol Boyley. Boshoff is regarded as the finest South Afirican impressionist artist and a small Boshoff painting will cost around R 30 000 – R 35 000 at least.
Errol Boyely died in 2007 and his paintings are in demand. The prices of his paintings seem to have settled down but will pick up again once the economy turns.
What could I buy for R 10 000?
Click on the link for more reading and beautiful art on babobski’s blog.
English readers: This poem in this entry is about South Africa. I dedicated the 14th August 2008 to Afrikaans, the language I love and my mother tongue. This is, in our history, used to be an important day as we celebrated Afrikaans as our language. Afrikaans was forbidden to use by Afrikaans speaking people in the Cape when the English occupied the Cape. A sign/tag was placed around children’s necks in schools saying, “donkey”, if they had dared to speak Afrikaans.
On 14th August 1875 the GRA was founded. Their task was to promote Afrikaans. They also requested – on the 24th August 1878 – for the Bible to be translated into Afrikaans.
In this poem I refer to some places and nature. On the link of my 2008-entry, you can see the Afrikaans Language Monument. Good news for Afrikaans too: WordPress and Facebook have gone Afrikaans! If you choose Afrikaans as your language in the settings in WordPress, you will find most terms on your dashboard in Afrikaans.
Hoogenhout, a famous South African poet, said the following after Afrikaans was forbidden in schools in the early 1920s.
“English! English! All is English! What you see and hear
In our schools, in our churches, our Mother tongue is killed”
Was dit Hoogenhout wat in ‘n gedig gesê het:
“Engels! Engels! Alles Engels! Engels wat jy sien en hoor; In ons skole, in ons kerke, word ons moedertaal vermoor. Ag, hoe word ons volk verbaster, daartoe werk ons leraars saam. Hollands nog in seek’re skole: is bedrog, ‘n blote naam! Wie hom nie laat anglisere, word geskolde en gesmaad. Tot in Vrystaat en Transvaal al, oweral dieselfde kwaad. ‘Dis vooruitgang’, roep die skreeuwers, ‘dis beskawing wat nou kom! Die wat dit nie wil gelowe, die is ouderwets en dom…’.”
I‘ve been to a few countries and many places in the UK. I still think South Africa is the most beautiful country in the world. We have such an abundance of beauty and diversity in nature. We have the greenest canyon in the world- which is also the 3rd largest in the world, we have the highest waterfall in Africa and the 2nd highest in the world, the 3rd longest Tufa waterfall, the deepest mines, the largest zoo, the smallest butterfly, the largest diamond, the second largest amount of windmills on farms (280 000), the largest impact crater on earth, white lions, the largest ostrich population and much more.
On this link of the The Drakensberg Mountains, you can read about my hiking trip in the Mountain when I was 15. I was on top of Mount Aux Sources, the highest peak of the mountain range in South Africa. The actual highest peak of this mountain range is in Lesotho and the peak is called, Thaba Ntlenyana (which means: beautiful little mountain). “Thaba” means “mountain” – the attributive “yana” means “little”.
You can see a pic of one of the two chain ladders you have to go on to reach the summit. At the bottom of this post I have included an Afrikaans song by the Art teacher in my Secondary school. He was one of the two teachers on our hiking trip! He sings about “sidewalk people” and I’ve translated it roughly for you to understand.
More interesting facts – from quite a few years ago:
*Pretoria has the second largest number of embassies in the world after Washington, D.C.
*The University of South Africa – UNISA – is a pioneer of tertiary distance education and is the largest international correspondence university in the world with 250,000 students.
*Afrikaans is the youngest official language in the world.
*The Singita Private Game Reserve in the Kruger National Park was voted the best hotel in the world by the readers of travel publication, Conde Nast Traveller.
*Stellenbosch University was the first university in the world to design and launch a microsatellite.
*South Africa houses one of the three largest telescopes in the world at Sutherland in the Karoo.
South Africa is the first country to host a Fide rated Chess tournament where players from different countries played their games online! See my entry about the South African Open Chess Championships that took place in Cape Town. Read HEREmy post dedicated to Afrikaans only- last year 14th August.
This stamp was issued October 1975. It was issued on the Inauguration of the Afrikaans Language Monument and features the 1st edition of the Arikaanse Partiot (January 15, 1876), one of the first newspapers in Afrikaans rather than Dutch. On this link you can see more stamps of South Africa.
Met die stigting van die Genootskap van Regte Afrikaners op 14 Augustus 1875 in die Paarl is ‘n tydvak van georganiseerde stryd om die Afrikaanse taal ingelui. In artikel IX van die Genootskap se bepalings word beoog om ‘n Afrikaanse maandblad uit te gee. Op hierdie dag in 1876 verskyn die eerste uitgawe van die maandblad Die Afrikaanse Patriot, wat die orgaan van die GRA sou wees. C.P. Hoogenhout was die eerste redakteur onder die skuilnaam Oom Lokomotief, wat deur die redakteurs na hom oorgeneem is. In Die Patriot dek die GRA die terreine van hul doelstelling, naamlik die van land, volk en taal. Daarin is leiding gegee ten opsigte van landsake, die Afrikaanse taal, geskiedenis en belangrike nuus. —lees meer op die link!
LEES HIER!!
Jan 2015 –Indien jy beplan om my eie gedigte te ‘leen’ vir jou Facebook bladsy of jou privaat blog of website, kan jy asseblief so vriendelik wees om my daaroor in te lig en daarna ook my skryfnaam ‘Nikita’ daarby te publiseer -soos dit by al my eie gedigte hier op my blog is! Dit is ‘n klein en simpel versoek. Ek vind my eie gedigte op heelwat ander websites and dit is vir my aangenaam om te weet dat ander mense my gedigte waardeer, maar daar is kopiereg reëls en ek sal dit waardeer indien jy dit sal respekteer en erkenning gee aan die skrywer van die gedig. Dan — vind ek ook my gedigte op internet bladsye van mense met sekere politieke sieninge en oorweginge waarmee ek nie saamstem nie. Ek het herhaaldelik gevra om my gedigte te verwyder en my versoeke word bloot geignoreer. Dit wys dat daar mense is wat nie ander se werke (eiendom) respekteer nie. Dit is die groot rede waarom ek die boodskap hier plaas.
Suid-Afrika: my land
Jy’s indrukwekkend, manjifiek
jou sondeurdrenkte landskappe
weerkaats helder beelde in my siel
jou pragtige wonders flikker oneindig
lank in die stilte van jou nagrus
Mount Aux Sources – so elegant en grasieus
verrys jy vanuit die voetheuwels, soos
‘n fakkel by die Spele ets jy lekkende
beelde teen die muur van my geheue
en voel ek jou hitte gloeiend teen my hart
O Blyde! ek fantaseer oor jou
magiese kragte wat jy sorgloos
en galant in die galery van my
stille gemoed stilletjies uitpak terwyl
my dawerende applous eggo
oor die velde van my gedagtes
Moederstad! hoe inskiklik laat jy my
telkens hakkel wanneer ek my herinneringe
sagkens koester – jou fasades!
waar ek jou gambiet betree
en gewillig my pionne oorgee
En saans voel ek jou fluweelagtige
skoonheid van elke sonsondergang
stadig neerdaal in my gemoed terwyl
ek stadig drink van jou geloofs-fonteine
wat borrellend bruis in oorvloed
Fragmentaries vier ek feeste
ek dans en omhels jou en jy –
jy blus my gees telkens met jou
magiese heildronke: een-vir-een
op ‘n toekoms – wat mag wees!
–Nikita –14/8/09 14:00
Sidewalk People
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move like shadows in the street past me
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move faceless past my heart
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move like shadows in the street past me
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move faceless past my heart
I wish I could look at a photo
to see what your world deep inside is like
borrow a piece of your dreams
I wonder who you are
I wish I could understand the language
in which you channelled your thoughts
I wish I could for a moment
share your path of life
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move like shadows in the street past me
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move faceless past my heart
perhaps it’s best for sure
‘cos if we know all of all
the sadness maybe
too hard too much
the love too beautiful
walk past one another
I stay I and you stay you
a single road leading somewhere
I wish I could understand
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move like shadows in the street past me
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move faceless past my heart
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move like shadows in the street past me
Sidewalk People Sidewalk People
Move faceless past my heart
—translated–nikita
image: google
Sypaadjie Mense
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg soos skimme in die straat verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg gesigloos voor my hart verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg soos skimme in die straat verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg gesigloos voor my hart verby
ek wens ek kon ‘n kiekie kyk
hoe jou wêreld diep daar binne lyk
‘n stukkie van jou drome leen
ek wonder wie jy is
ek wens ek kon die taal verstaan
waarin jy jou gedagtes baan
ek wens ek kon ‘n oomblikkie
jou lewenspaadjie deel
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg soos skimme in die straat verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg gesigloos voor my hart verby
miskien is dit dalk beter so
want as ons iets van almal weet
die hartseer dalk te swaar te veel
die liefde dalk te mooi
stap maar bymekaar verby
ek bly ek en jy bly jy
‘n enkelpaadjie iewers heen
ek wens ek kon verstaan
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg soos skimme in die straat verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg gesigloos voor my hart verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg soos skimme in die straat verby
Sypaadjie mense Sypaadjie mense
Beweeg gesigloos voor my hart verby
Painting celebrating African and European influences –2008
Danie de Wet
The Way (2005)
Oil on board
Roelof Rossouw
Blaauwklippen Estate from Jamestown
The Red Boat, Hout Bay
Roelof Rossouw
Walter Koch
“untitled”
His inspirations come from African Rock and Graffiti
Francois Krige…Blue Cranes (they are South Africa’s national bird)
I was sent this link earlier this week by a relative of mine. Her hubby is an artist and a very talented person when it comes to art and music and I’ve thought to blog a few artists from this site as I think that we have wonderful artists in South Africa and apart from that, we have such a beautiful country and I personally think that SA is a paradise for any artist. I’d wished many times that I was a natural artist. I want to sit down and start a drawing and after five minutes I want a master piece! But, unfortunately, I was at the end of the line when God handed out that gift! By looking at all these masterpieces then I’m really rubbish when it comes to art! although I’ve done some fabric painting, but that’s easy peasy…it’s like colouring a picture with paint! and I’ve done some Chinese painting….that’s painting on plates…even easier than fabric painting! ….nothing really difficult about that and you don’t even have to be an artist to do that! In my school in SA I used to do that with my gr3’s…and they did some wonderful paintings on small plates as a Mothers’ day-gift. One of my gr3’s even taught her mum how to do it and they started a club at home painting plates as Christmas presents…so, you see, you don’t have to be an artist and I want to be one!! lol! The first two piece of art is from her hubby and the others are just some of the beautiful art which I like…the first one in particular reminded me about chess…if you know what I mean…the bottom half….and I do love any beautiful painting with boats…and it’s even better with a South African mountain on the background!! ….I know I will find more pieces of art which I will like by spending more time on the site…so, here’s the link for you to play around! Please click HEREfor more South African artists and their art work.
Enjoy this piece of painted fabric… I might scan one more later…if you have your image transferred on your fabric…it’s….dead easy…almost like “colour-by-the-numbers”…. On THIS SITE you can view a gallery of art from many well-known artists of South African e.g. Maggie Laubscher, Walter Battis, W H Coetzer, etc. Francois Krige’s “Blue Cranes” is from this gallery…do enjoy!
This song is one of my favourites, sung by Laurika Rauch, also one of my favourite South African artists. Laurika is a legend in South Africa and many South Africans love her for her music…and I’m definitely one of them. If you click on the page-link that says…”don’t miss this song”, you can listen to her singing another song together with Valiant Swart…and I’ve translated that song for you to understand the song that’s about a sun catcher… This song is about her as a young girl, where she says she used to believe in Santa ….she saw Santa walking through the corn fields one day and her brother asked if Santa was from Clocolan….then one day she saw Santa’s suit…and she realised that he wasn’t real…all her dreams were scattered… she also sings about girls having dreams about their future partners and she wrote a letter to Santa …describing him her dream partner…
WOW! This image is from THIS SITE where you can see more fantastic breathtaking images! This is the road to Clocolan…the small town Laurika mentions in her song…in her song her little brother asks her if Santa was from Clocolan…
EK HET IN MY KINDERJARE VAS GEGLO IN KERSFEESVADER
IN WERKLIKHEID RY HY MOS MET ‘N SLEE
MAAR HIER STAP HY DEUR DIE MIELIES, MET ‘N STREEPSAK
EN ‘N KIERIE
EN MY BOETIE VRA, “BOER HY BY CLOCOLAN?”
KOOR:
WAAR IS JOU RENDIER EN SILWER SPORE?
WAAR IS ONS DROME VAN GISTERAAND?
VLIEG OOR DIE BOME MET MY DROME
KYK HOE GLINSTER DIE MAAN
DIE WINDE VAN DIE WINTER HET MY KINDERHART ONTNUGTER
EK EN BOETIE KRY ‘N ROOI JAS IN DIE LAAI
JONK VAN JARE, OUD VAN DAE, HUIL EK HARTSEER
IN MY KAMER
WANT DIE FANTASIE HET SOOS ‘N DROOM VERDWYN
KOOR
IN ‘N BRIEF VAN LATER JARE, SKRYF EK “LIEWE KERSFEESVADER
ELKE MEISIE HET ‘N SPESIALE WENS
VIR ‘N MAN SO SOET SOOS SUIKER, MET ‘N MOTOR SONDER DUIKE
EN SOEN HY JOU DINK JY DIS NET ‘N DROOM”
KOOR
EK STAP TOE OP ‘N AAND LAAT, MET ‘N KÊREL UIT DIE VRYSTAAT
AL BESTUUR HY ‘N OU BAKKIE, SÊ EK “KERSFEESVADER, DANKIE!”
WANT AL SY SOENE IS SOOS SUIKER, EN IN SY HANDE ‘N DIAMANT
VLIEG OOR DIE BOME MET MY DROME
KYK HOE GLINSTER DIE MAAN
HIER’S ONS KINDERS OM DIE BOOMPIE, HULLE WAG NOU VIR DIE OOMPIE
MY DOGTERTJIE IS NET ‘N BIETJIE BANG
MAAR HY STAP SOMMER UIT DIE BRANDERS, JA DIE TYE HET VERANDER
MY SEUNTJIE VRA, “WOON HY IN JEFFRIESBAAI?”
KOOR Read what Wipneus says in her post about “dreams” HERE , but it’s an entry in Afrikaans. The link will open in a new window.
Image:Childrenshospital.org
On THIS LINK you can read about dreams….The link will open in a new window.
From the book “Dreams”…by Olive Schreiner…
And God laughed at me; and I wondered why he laughed.
God said, “Come, and I will show you Heaven.”
…
And partly I awoke. It was still and dark; the sound of the carriages had
died in the street; the woman who laughed was gone; and the policeman’s
tread was heard no more. In the dark it seemed as if a great hand lay upon
my heart, and crushed it. I tried to breathe and tossed from side to side;
and then again I fell asleep, and dreamed.
God took me to the edge of that world. It ended. I looked down. The
gulf, it seemed to me, was fathomless, and then I saw two bridges crossing
it that both sloped upwards.
I said to God, “Is there no other way by which men cross it?”
God said, “One; it rises far from here and slopes straight upwards.
I asked God what the bridges’ names were.
God said, “What matter for the names? Call them the Good, the True, the
Beautiful, if you will–you will yet not understand them.” Please click HEREto read the entire book …”Dreams” online written by a South African writer…Olive Schreiner….the link will open in a new window….and on THIS LINK you can read more about her…the link will open in a new window.
The Story of an African Farm as Ralph Iron, 1883
Dreams, 1890
Dream Life and Real Life, 1893
The Political Situation (with S C Cronwright-Schreiner), 1896
Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland, 1897
An English South African’s View of the Situation, 1899
Women and Labour, 1911
Stories, Dreams and Allegories, 1923
From Man To Man, 1926
Undine, 1928
Olive Schreiner rose to international fame as the first major South African writer of fiction, as an eloquent advocate of feminism, socialism, pacifism and free thought, as a trenchant critic of British imperialism and racism. Perhaps best known for her novel ‘The Story of an African Farm’, Schreiner wrote political and social treatises as well as allegories and short stories.
She was born into a poor family of a Boer father and English mother, the ninth of 12 children. She lived a life of incredible hardship: her father was a missionary of implacable religious zeal and her mother aggressively attempted to maintain a European sensibility as the family nomadically wandered from mission to mission throughout the Transvaal. Schreiner was self-educated; her early influences included the philosophers Herbert Spencer and John Stuart Mill, and the naturalist Charles Darwin.”..read on the link I’ve given about her…more…
On THIS LINK you can visit the site of the movie based on her book…”The Story of an African farm”…
The link will open in a new window.
by Gustavus Hindman Miller.
Fireside; 1st Fireside Ed edition, 1985 | 592 pages | PDF | 1.4MB Click on the link to download the dictionary of dreams…the link will open in a new window. the_dictionary_of_dreams_10_000_dreams_interpreted
What do you believe about dreams….read this interesting article if you want to dream like an Egyptian! I’ve got a Dutch dream book…more like a dictionary, but quite old…unfortunately packed away in SA…would love to have it so I could blog it..it was always interesting to read what they say if you dream about something, what it means… it has happened to me twice that I dream about people and funerals..then it was when there was really going to be a funeral in the family! The first time it happened was when I was a student…and a couple of days later, my beloved grandma died! After the second time, I really believe that there is some meaning we can attach to dreams!
Image: eso-garden.com
DREAMING LIKE AN EGYPTIAN
by Robert Moss
The ancient Egyptians understood that in dreams, our eyes are opened. Their word for dream, rswt, is etymologically connected to the root meaning “to be awake”. It was written with a symbol representing an open eye.
The Egyptians believed that the gods speak to us in dreams. As the Bible story of Joseph and Pharaoh reminds us, they paid close attention to dream messages about the possible future. They practiced dream incubation for guidance and healing at temples and sacred sites. They understood that by recalling and working with dreams, we develop the art of memory, tapping into knowledge that belonged to us before we entered this life journey, and awakening to our connection with other life experiences.
The Egyptians also developed an advanced practice of conscious dream travel.
Trained dreamers operated as seers, remote viewers and telepaths, advising on affairs of state and military strategy and providing a mental communications network between far-flung temples and administrative centers.
They practiced shapeshifting, crossing time and space in the dreambodies of birds and animals.
Through conscious dream travel, ancient Egypt’s “frequent flyers” explored the roads of the afterlife and the multidimensional universe. It was understood that true initiation and transformation takes place in a deeper reality accessible through the dream journey beyond the body.
Please click on THIS LINK to read the entire article. The link will open in a new window.
DO BABIES DREAM?
Babies dream, says Dr. Charles P. Pollak, director of the Center for Sleep Medicine at NewYork-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell hospital in the New York Times.
In what seems like a rather gutless attempt to explain why he thinks babies dream, Dr. Pollack says, babies sleep because babies experience REM sleep (I have experienced REM sleep, too, any time you put in one of their last five albums). Because infants have REM sleep, Dr. Pollack says, “It is a well-based inference that babies are dreaming in REM sleep.”
Click HERE to read about babies’ dreams…The link will open in a new window.
All links in this post will open in a new window.
I will always like the music of Queen..this song is called..Las Palabras de Amor. Enjoy!
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightfowardingly, without complexeties or pride. So I love you because i know no other way than this…” Pablo Neruda “A kiss is something you cannot give without taking and cannot take without giving.”
“Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man’s son doth know”. William Shakespeare in Twelfth Night (II, iii, 44-45) “Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.” Alexander Smith Enjoy this song by South African singer…Steve Hofmeyr…”You got me”…
And this South African Golden Oldie! Ge Korsten with “Liefling” and liefling means..”darling”…
Enjoy this song…”Fields of Gold” by Eva Cassidy
Enjoy this song by Ilse de Lange: “What does your heart say now?”
Slide down for the article…”Romance in Chess”…
Listen to the poem on this audio file too…by Robert Burns….source:http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/redredrose.html Notes: According to “Scottish Songs Illustrated,” this song is a Robert Burns rewrite of an older street ballad, which is said to have been written by a Lieutenant Henches, as a farewell to his betrothed.
0, my love is like a red, red rose,
that’s newly sprung in June.
0, my love is like a melody,
that’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
so deep in love am I,
And I will love thee still, my dear,
till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt wi’ the sun!
And I will love thee still, my dear,
while the sands of life shall run.
And fare the weel, my only love!
And fare the well awhile!
And I will come again, my love.
Tho it were ten thousand mile!
Read on THIS LINK too the poem by Elizabeth Barret Browning…”How do I love thee”…enjoy! One of my favourites!
”How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death. Today I’m in a mood to blog about love… What is love? What is your view, we discussed this at work….and we all agreed to the following conclusions…..Is it a sensation..a shared feeling between two people… ..based on physical and emotional attraction.. spontaneously generates when the right person appears. And of course also, it can spontaneously degenerate when the magic “just isn’t there” anymore. You fall in love, and you can fall out of it.
Love is the attachment that results from deeply appreciating another’s goodness. What we value most in ourselves, we must value most in others. God created us to see ourselves as good ….hence our need to either rationalize or regret our wrongdoings….In the Bible He said…after creating us humans… “and that was good”… So, too, we seek goodness in others. Nice looks, an engaging personality, intelligence, and talent may attract you, but goodness is what moves you to love.LOVE IS A CHOICE. Love is active. You can create it. Just focus on the good in another person …..and everyone has some!! If you can do this easily, you’ll love easily.
Love is care, demontrating active concern for the recipient’s life. Love is responsibility. Love is respect, the ability to see a person as he/she is, to be aware of his/her unique individuality. A big part of love is putting another person’s happiness ahead of your own. If you have to “prove” your love to someone, I don’t believe that he/she loves you the way you might think he/she does.When you love another person you don’t ask them to sacrifice a part of themselves in the name of that love. Love is not about jealousy. It is not about conflict. It is not about testing. Love is not about spitefulness. How do you show love to other people? Nobody expect you to “love” all people the way you love your husband/wife, but it is expected from us to “love your neighbour as you love yourself”.
Enjoy the poem: Love Song by T S Eliot
Communication, Communication, and Communication……..on THIS LINK you can read how important communication in a relationship between a married couple is.The link will open in a new window.
T S Eliot On THIS LINK you can read his extract “The Game of Chess”.
Click HEREto read more love poems on my blog.
And…on THIS LINK on my blog….you can read the poem of E A Poe…Annabel Lee…a beautiful love poem. Ben Jonson
T H E F O R E S T . IX. — SONG. — TO CELIA.
Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither’d be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
Love Song
I lie here thinking of you:
the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves, smears with saffron horned branched the lean heavily against a smooth purple sky! There is no light only a honey-thick stain that drips from leaf to leaf and limb to limb spoiling the colors of the whole world- you far off there under the wine-red selvage of the west!
~~~William Carlos Williams
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Song to Celia
by Ben Jonson
Drinke to me, onely, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kisse but in the cup,
And Ile not looke for wine.
The thirst, that from the soule doth rise,
Doth aske a drinke divine:
But might I of Jove’s Nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered bee.
But thou thereon did’st onely breath,
And sent’st it back to mee:
Since when it growes, and smells, I sweare,
Not of it selfe, but thee.
Robert Browning
A Woman’s Last Word
Let’s contend no more, Love,
Strive nor weep:
All be as before, Love,
—Only sleep!
What so wild as words are?
I and thou
In debate, as birds are,
Hawk on bough!
See the creature stalking
While we speak!
Hush and hide the talking,
Cheek on cheek!
What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent’s tooth is
Shun the tree—
Where the apple reddens
Never pry—
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.
Be a god and hold me
With a charm!
Be a man and fold me
With thine arm!
Teach me, only teach, Love
As I ought
I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought—
Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.
That shall be to-morrow
Not to-night:
I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:
Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.
–Robert Browning
Next I have a National Poet of South Africa…A G Visser. He’s written some beautiful love poems in Afrikaans! A.G. Visser en Lettie Conradie.
Hy trou in 1913 met Lettie, oorlede in 1920,
en in 1927 met Marie de Villiers.
Read more about A G Visser here on this link.
Liefdes gedigte: A G Visser Misère
(Triolet) The light that lies
In women’s eyes
Just… lies and lies!
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink,
Dat die liefde iets is
so beroerd ongestadig?
Dat die hand wat uit gulde
bokale laat drink,
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink
Dat dit eendag nog edik
en gal weer sal skink,
Ongevoelig meedoënloos,
wreed, ongenadig?
In die eerste instansie,
wie sou nou kon dink
Dat die liefde iets is
So beroerd ongestandig! http://www.gedichtenbundel.be/testliefdefoto1Eheu fugaces…
Si jeunesse savait.
Si vitesse avait.
Onthou jy nog, Anita lief,
Die aand daar by die strand,
My hart vir jou ’n ope brief,
Jou handjie in my hand?
Die maanlig het die see gesoen,
Die see … die strand, nog heet –
En ons … wat kon ons anders doen?
Kan ons dit ooit vergeet?
Cherie Yvonne, het jy vergeet
Die les in Afrikaans?
Die beste taal het ons geweet,
Die tyd in ou la France.
En aan my hemel onbewolk
Was jy die goue son;
“Toujours l’Amour” was onse tolk;
Onthou jy nog, Yvonne?
Mooi Gretchen, kan jy nog onthou
Ons tyd van soete min?
Die Neckar met sy waters blou,
Jou ogies blou daarin?
Die donkergroene dennewoud
Was liefdes-heiligdom –
Alt Heidelberg, die jeug van goud,
En jy – sal nooit weer kom!
En, bonnie Jean, onthou jy nog
Die eiland van die Swaan?
Ben Lomond en die donker loch
By heldere somermaan?
Aan rosebanke trek ons twee
(Was dit ’n droom – wie weet?)
Wit swane oor die lewensee –
Kan ek dit ooit vergeet?
Maar eenmaal in die lewe kom
Die liefde weergaloos;
En eenmaal in die gaarde blom
Volmaak ’n wonderroos.
Verwelk, helaas, my tuin se prag –
Weg met die donker stroom –
Die wind deurwaai my hof by nag
En vind my met my droom.
O lippe wat nog lag en lonk!
O harte wat nog klop!
Steeds doem gestaltes ewig-jonk
Uit die verlede op.
“Eheu fugaces anni …” sing
Gedagtes wat nou skroei;
Op velde van herinnering
Pers amarante bloei!
Ballade van die roos
’n Ou Spaanse gesegde noem die volgende
drie stadieë in die lewe van ‘n roos:
In die more: rosa pallida.
In die middag: rosa perfecta.
In die aand: rosa incarnada
Waarheen ook my oë mag staar
En waar ook my voete mag gaan,
Geduriglik droom ek van haar;
Haar beeltenis lief lag my aan,
Ek sien – as die sterrelig taan –
’n Roosknop wat stadig ontvou: –
– My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan –
O „Pallida Rosa”, vir jou!
O blomkelk, met skoonheid belaan,
Ek smag op die middag-uur lou
My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan
O „Rosa Perfecta”, na jou!
Ek ken jou nog nie – dit is waar –
Maar êrens moet jy tog bestaan;
Die aandson gloei rooi op die blaar
En ’k voel jy’s g’n ydele waan,
Want rooi sprei die liefde haar vaan!
En donker die oë getrou
– My noointjie van ver-hier-vandaan –
O Roos „Incarnada” – van jou!
Was jy ’n rosebloesem
En ek die roos se geur,
Hoe heerlik deur die lewe
Steeds rondom jou te swewe.
Beswymend aan jou boesem,
Betower deur jou kleur.
Was jy ’n rosebloesem
En ek die roos se geur.
Was jy ’n lied se woorde
En ek die melodie.
Hoe sou die dag verheerlik
Jou skoonheid so begeerlik;
Die nag tril van akkoorde
En soetste harmonie.
Was jy ’n lied se woorde,
En ek die melodie.
Was jy die hoogste kranse,
En ek die sonnegloed.
Jou wange sou dan verwe
En op jou lippe sterwe
My eerste moreglanse
En laaste awend-groet;
Was jy die hoogste kranse
En ek die sonnegloed
Maar jy ’s Prinses van Verre
En ek… ’n troebadoer;
Al gloei ook my gesange
Van liefde en verlange,
– Die vuurvlieg vir die sterre –
Wat my ten hemel voer;
Jy bly Prinses van Verre
En ek… ’n troebadoer.
Stille Rivierstroom….Nick Taylor
Die middagson helder en klaar
Sien neer van sy blou hemelbaan;
Die roos sal haar hart openbaar
Aan wie haar geheime verstaan.
Jou huis is waar jou hart is
My hart is leeg geween
Vandat sy verdwyn het
wandel ek oral alleen
Sing oor somer briese
Jou weemoed sleep weer oor
Saammet die lowerstruike
sing my ‘n hemelse koor
Chorus:
Liefde, Liefde’s ‘n stille rivierstroom
wat vloei deur ons woestynland
Droog die rivier weg
dan sal al die klein vissies sterf
Ek stap deur lee strate
Die echo’s maak my seer
My hart is soos my hande
soekend maar bly altyd leeg
Woestyne kan my nie keer nie
Ek baan deur storms my weg
Ek sal die rivier weer terugvind
voor hierdie klein vissie sterf
Chorus
ROMANCE IN CHESS? Romance in chess? ‘What could possibly be less romantic than chess?’ you might be asking. After all, chess is a game of war based on logic, isn’t it? There is nothing romantic about war or logic.
Many players are familiar with the famous quote by Dr. Siegbert Tarrasch from the preface to his classic manual The Game of Chess : ‘Chess, like love, like music, has the power to make men happy’ (which politically correct writers of more recent times change to ‘the power to make people happy’). Less familiar is Tarrasch’s preceding sentence, ‘I have always a slight feeling of pity for the man who has no knowledge of chess, just as I would pity the man who has remained ignorant of love.’
Chess once served a social function of allowing young men and women to meet above the board. Echecs et Féodalité : Raoul de Cambrai (Chess and feudalism; from Culture et curiosités, see the link box in the upper right corner of this article) tells of a poem by Bertolai, a 10th century poet from Laon, France. The poem, about a war of succession in Northern France, references chess twice. In the second reference chess is used as an excuse by the daughter of the new overlord Guerri to woo the hero Bernier to her chambers. Her chamberlain, assigned the task of arranging the meeting, says to Bernier, ‘My young lord, you can be proud of yourself, since the daughter of Guerri, the most noble woman from here to the south of France, asks that you join her in her apartments, to play chess. You should comply, but don’t play chess.’
The significance of this might be lost in our age of instant gratification, but as recently as 100 years ago, chess still occasionally served as a means to a more romantic end.
This popular illustration by Clarence Frederick Underwood (American, 1871-1929), is often listed under various titles. Our favorite is Knight takes Queen. This theme is not as unique as you might think. One web site has a collection of more than 50 drawings and photos, all with the theme ‘Couples playing chess’ (see the link box again). The images invariably have titles like ‘The right move’, ‘The greatest game in the world’, or variations on the word mate : ‘Impending Mate’, ‘Check and mate’, etc. The word ‘checkmate’ even figured in at least one early valentine. ‘My little love do you remember,
Ere we grew so sadly wise,
When you and I played chess together,
Checkmated by each others eyes?’
Source: http://chess.about.com/library/weekly/aa05b12.htm
Wow, one chess player on the chess site tells me he’s busy reading this book! E..er…
7 December-poem
This poem comes from a “poetic calendar”. There’s a poem for every day and it’s actually a book used by Teachers and I want to share a poem for today from this book! Fridays always feel to me like a special day for poetry! A day to relax! So…relax and enjoy! As student, Ingrid Jonker’s poems really appealed to me…and “Bitterbessie Dagbreek” was always somewhere on a door/wall in my room. At the bottom of this post, you will find a link to read more about her….her poems were translated in many languages! Follow this linkHERE to listen to her poem in Afrikaans, and at the same time, you can read it in English! Please Click on the play button! Love-light
A taper lit in sunlight,
Pale yellow leaf of flame,
An upturned heart that trembled
As soft winds breathed your name,
Its brightness was diluted;
But, when the darkness came,
It shone with such pure brilliance
As put the stars to shame. Vernon Scannell
From:Read Me2: A Poem For Every Day of The Year
BITTERBESSIE DAGBREEK
Ingrid Jonker
Bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son
‘n spieël het gebreek
tusen my en hom
Soek ek na die grootpad
om daarlangs te draf
oral draai die paadjies
van sy woorde af
Dennebos herinnering
dennebos vergeet
het ek ook verdwaal
trap ek in my leed
Papegaai-bont eggo
kierang kierang my
totdat ek bedroë
weer die koggel kry
Eggo is geen antwoord
antwoord hy alom
bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son
On THIS LINK you will find interesting reading about her life!ReadHERE more about INGRID JONKER. SONG
Another Afrikaans poem of Ingrid… Madeliefies in Namakwaland
~~~Ingrid Jonker
Waarom luister ons nog
na die antwoorde van die madeliefies
op die wind op die son
wat het geword van die kokkewietjies
Agter die geslote voorkop
waar miskien nog ’n takkie tuimel
van ’n verdrinkte lente
~~~
Agter my gesneuwelde woord
Agter ons verdeelde huis
Agter die hart gesluit teen homself
Agter draadheinings, kampe, lokasies
Agter die stilte waar onbekende tale
val soos klokke by ’n begrafenis
Agter ons verskleurde land
~~~
sit die groen hotnotsgot van die veld
en ons hoor nog verdwaasd
klein blou Namakwaland-madeliefie
iets antwoord, iets glo, iets weet.
I had to blog this Afrikaans song of Laurika Rauch as I think the mood suits today’s poems!
Vandag is sommer net een van daardie dae wat ek Suid-Afrika mis! En dan maak dit die verlange nog groter as jy na Steve luister! Ai, hierdie man het darem ‘n stem aan hom en ‘n manier van dinge doen wat ‘n mens se hart warm laat klop vir Suid-Afrika. Ons het hom in 2006 hier in London gesien sing in die Palladium en dit was ‘n fantastiese optrede gewees. Ons het ook daar ander SA’s ontmoet met wie ons nou groot vriende is. Ek wens ek kon ‘n video kry van daardie aand se optrede. Nadat ek BiB se brief op sy blog gelees het wat hy aan Stefan geskryf het, Stefan wat nie meer daar is nie, het hy my baie bewoe gehad! ‘n Mens se hart is maar altyd in Suid-Afrika, al is jy waar in die wereld, jy sal ALTYD ‘n Suid-Afrikaner bly…murg en been… dit is IN jou, niks of niemand kan dit uit jou kry nie, wat hulle ook al se of doen. Dit is net jammer dat sekere dinge ‘n mens wegdryf en jy nie eens jou eie land kan geniet soos jy wil nie, dat jy nie vry kan wees en voel daar is ‘n toekoms vir jou kinders nie. Jy voel jammer vir jou kinders, want jy wens hulle kon daar grootword, jy wens hulle kon deel wees van die kultuur. Alhoewel jy in die vreemde jou taal praat en vir hulle vertel van die dinge, is dit anders, hulle beleef dit nie soos hulle dit sou beleef het nie. Miskien eendag, ons hoop almal en glo dat dinge positief sal uitwerk vir almal, almal in die vreemde sowel as almal daar. Niemand in die vreemde wil dit regtig he soos dit is nie, elke mens besluit vir homself op daardie oomblik wat is goed en jy dink aan jou kinders. Jy dink aan die toekoms. Jy dink aan alles! Hiermee wil ek nie se dat mense wat daar in SA is, dink nie soos ons nie. Nee, glad nie. Ons het die geleentheid gehad om te kom, baie mense wil, maar het nie die geleentheid nie. Mens wil graag he dat almal wat wil , die geleentheid moet he. Ek sal graag my hele familie hier wil he. Al wat jy in die vreemde kan doen is om jou kinders positief te hou teenoor Suid-Afrika sodat hulle eendag daarheen sal wil terugkeer. Ek praat later weer.
Leone and Pieter live in Aberystwyth and we met them here in London. Leone is a fantastic artist and some of her work can be seen in Embassies in some countries. I took two pictures – bear in mind that I’m not a professional photographer- but I think it is still good enough to admire and to share. The first two pictures are the two which I photographed and I found the others by a search on Yahoo….Links in this post will open in a new window.
We visited them in Wales and you can follow this link (and go down with the slider) to look at the pictures in Aber and read more about our visit there.
Tretchikoff is a South African artist, born in Russia, spent some of his childhood years in China and lived in Cape Town. He died in August 2006 in Cape Town. I can remember, I was 11 years old and we were told by our teacher to prepare a speech about any artist. The first and best artist’s information I found – was in a household magazine, called Huisgenoot , was about Tretchikoff! I can remember I said a lot about him and there were pictures of women he painted…naked! … and a couple of flowery-ones in the magazine. Of course I didn’t show all those pictures in class to the children, but the teacher did look at it.
Report from the BBC:
It’s one of the most popular prints ever made and yet many art critics dismiss it as rubbish. The death of its creator Vladimir Tretchikoff has again cast the spotlight on the mysterious Green Lady. She looks unsmiling down and to her left. She has luxuriant black hair. Dressed in an exotic gold-collared robe, her hands are folded out of sight. So far, so unremarkable, except for her skin, a strange blue-green.In the 1960s and 70s, Chinese Girl – to give the 1950 portrait its proper title – graced many a living room wall across the globe.The Russian-born South African artist Tretchikoff toured the world on the back of his painting’s popularity. He generated controversy in interviews, exhibited his work in department stores and became one of the first artists to target the “ordinary” public as the true audience for his work. BBC report:
Read the entire report HEREon the BBC’s news site….
On THIS LINK you can read the South African Broadcasting Company’s report about his death…there’s also a video report which you can watch with his granddaughter too speaking. Vladimir Tretchikoff dies aged 92
August 26, 2006, 13:15
Vladimir Tretchikoff (92), a world renowned artist, has died at a frail care centre in Cape Town. Tretchikoff was a self-taught artist. He and his family fled the Russian Revolution in 1917, moving to Manchuria, Shanghai and Singapore, before eventually settling in South Africa in 1941. He is viewed by many as one of South Africa’s greatest artists. His most famous piece was the portrait titled Chinese Girl. Tretchikoff painted ultra-realistic portraits – many of women. His other subject matter included animals and flowers. He worked with oil and water paints, as well as in charcoal and other media
“Miss Wong”
Read HERE more about Tretchikoff on Wikipedia.
Weeping Rose “Horse race” by Tretchikoff
Spoken by great men:"Give me 20 divisions of American soldiers and I will breach Europe. Give me 15 consisting of Englishmen and I will advance to the borders of Berlin. Give me two divisions of those marvellous fighting Boers and I will remove Germany from the face of the earth." - Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery, Commander of the Allied Forces during WW2.
"The Americans fight for a free world, the English mostly for honour, glory and medals, the French and Canadians decide too late that they have to participate. The Italians are too scared to fight, the Russians have no choice. The Germans for their Fatherland. The Boers? Those sons of Bitches fight for the hell of it." American General, George 'Guts and Glory' Patton.
Chessalee 