Wondereal

WonderealNo. 10

feb10

Beauty is (naturally) in Nature?

Into the immense isolation and in the vast ignorance in which we struggle we have got no other model, point of reference or guide than the Nature. And the voice that suggests sometimes to turn away from It, to rebel against It, it’s still coming from the Na-ture. The humans are very similar to the trees: we need strong roots in the ground from which we draw nourishment and we need the sun from which we draw the light, the strength, the energy ...The vital breath.The Nature is beautiful because It’s Life. The beauty is a manifestation of natural arcane laws and without its appearance, they would be remained hidden forever.The Beauty is not a need but It’s an Ecstasy. It’s not an image you would see or a song you would hear, but rather It’s an image you see without the eyes, and a song you hear with the plugged ears.It is not the sap in the wake of the cortex, but rather It’s a gar-den that’s always flowery. And the Beauty seems even more beautiful for the rich ornament that gives It virtue.Beauty in Nature. Natural Beauty. Artificial Beauty. Skin smelling of roses or plastic ... ‘To be or not to be’? The doubt still goes on & on and follows us ... Naturally.

COMMONUNCOMMON.

Then let not winter’s ragged hand defaceIn thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some placeWith beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-killed.

Then let not winter’s ragged hand defaceIn thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some placeWith beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-killed.

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewestNow is the time that faces should form another,Whose fresh repair if you now thou not renewest

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

- I -

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewestNow is the time that faces should form another,Whose fresh repair if you now thou not renewest

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

- I -

Ten times thyself were happier than thou artIf ten of thine ten times refigured thee:

Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,Leaving thee living in posterity?

For thou art much too fairTo be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.

- II -

Ten times thyself were happier than thou artIf ten of thine ten times refigured thee:

Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,Leaving thee living in posterity?

For thou art much too fairTo be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.

- II -

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seemBy that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deemFor that sweet odour which doth in it live.The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye

As the perfumed tincture of the roses,But for their virtue only is their show,

They live unwooed and unrespected fade,Sweet roses do not so:

Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.

- III -

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seemBy that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deemFor that sweet odour which doth in it live.The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye

As the perfumed tincture of the roses,But for their virtue only is their show,

They live unwooed and unrespected fade,Sweet roses do not so:

Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.

- III -

Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens, yet unset,

With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,Much liker than your painted counterfeit.

- IV -

Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens, yet unset,

With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,Much liker than your painted counterfeit.

- IV -

The lily I condemned for thy hand,And buds of majoram had stol’n thy hair;The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,

One blushing shame, another white despair;More flowers I noted, yet I none could see

But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.

- V -

The lily I condemned for thy hand,And buds of majoram had stol’n thy hair;The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,

One blushing shame, another white despair;More flowers I noted, yet I none could see

But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.

- V -

A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand paintedHast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted

With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion.

- VI -

A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand paintedHast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted

With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion.

- VI -

Through the painter must you see his skillTo find where you true image pictured lies.

Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for meAre windows to my breast.

Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

- VII -

Through the painter must you see his skillTo find where you true image pictured lies.

Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for meAre windows to my breast.

Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

- VII -

Mine eye hath played the painter and hath steeledThy beauty’s form in table of my heart;My body is the frame wherein ‘tis held,And perspective it is best painter’s art.

- VIII -

Mine eye hath played the painter and hath steeledThy beauty’s form in table of my heart;My body is the frame wherein ‘tis held,And perspective it is best painter’s art.

- VIII -

- IX -How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

- IX -How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

- X -For a woman wert thou first created,

Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,And by addition me of thee defeated.

- X -For a woman wert thou first created,

Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,And by addition me of thee defeated.

COMMONUNCOMMON NO. 10 isAWEARE - Milanohttp://www.aweare.com

The ARTIFICIAL Nature

The ARTIFICIAL Nature

Magia 2000http://www.magia200.com