Source: commons.wikimedia.org
I also painted a study of a seascape, nothing but a bit of sand, sea, sky, grey and lonely — sometime[s] I feel a need for that silence — where there’s nothing but the grey sea — with an occasional seabird. But otherwise, no other voice than the murmur of the waves.
Vincent van Gogh, from a letter to his brother Theo, 17 September 1882
Source: onework.ru
how many moments must(amazing each
how many centuries)these more than eyes
restroll and stroll some never deepening beach
locked in foreverish time’s tide at poise,
love alone understands:only for whom
i’ll keep my trust until that tide shall turn;
and from all selfsubtractingly hugely doom
treasures of reeking innocence are born.
Then, with not credible the anywhere
eclipsing of a spirit’s ignorance
by every wisdom knowledge fears to dare,
how the(myself’s own self who’s)child will dance!
and when he’s plucked such mysteries as men
do not conceive—let ocean grow again
e e cummings
“I have sea foam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.”
—Testament of Orpheus
(via hateshiploveship)
Source: endorfins
Adagio of islands, O my Prodigal
Hart Crane in “Voyages” (1926)
