"Sir," said Sir Bors, "for all a man stems from an evil stock, namely from wicked parents, this gall is changed to sweetness the moment he is anointed with the holy chrism; therefore it seems to me that it is not fathers and mothers that determine whether a man be bad or good, but his own inclinations. A man's heart is the helm of his ship and steers it where he lists, to harbour or to hazard." -- anonymous, The Quest of the Holy Grail 

"Yvain was so distressed at departing from his beloved that his heart did not leave. The king could lead the body, but not the heart, which attached itself so strongly to the heart of the lady left behind that he had not the power to draw it away. The body cannot possibly live without the heart, yet this wonder did happen. The body still held on to life without the heart, which, though accustomed to lodging there, had no desire to follow the body farther. The heart found a good home, and the body lived in hope of returning to its heart. In place of the heart, the body had, in a strange manner, created a substitute out of hope." -- Chretien de Troyes, The Knight with the Lion

Liszt, Liebestraum--Khatia Buniatishvlili

Magical. I've never heard this performed with such sensitivity, color, expression, and beauty. It makes me feel warm inside, like hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day.

Here's another for good measure. Breathtaking. Liebe, komme zu mir.

"If we purify ourselves of wickedness, then we will come to see invisible realities. But there is no point, while we are still blind, in asking why it is we cannot see the light, no point in stuffing our ears and then asking why it is we cannot hear anything." -- John of Apamea

"The joy of late love is like green firewood when set aflame, for the longer the wait in lighting, the greater heat it yields and the longer its force lasts." -- Chretien de Troyes

"Whoever sits in solitude and is quiet
has escaped from three wars:
those of hearing, speaking, and seeing.
Then there is only one war left in which to fight, and that is the battle for your own heart. -- Abba Anthony

"Like one powerless and defenseless against Love's control, the knight of the cart fell into such thoughts that he lost thought of himself. He did not know if he was alive or dead, did not remember his own name, did not know whether he was armed or not, did not know where he was going or whence he was coming. He remembered nothing but one person, and for her he put everyone else out of his mind. He thought so much about her alone that he heard, saw, understood nothing." -- Chretien de Troyes, The Knight of the Cart

For My Friend

Why did we become friends?
Why were we immediately drawn to each other?
Was it because you'd never known a father's love
and attention?
And because I lacked everything feminine?

Or was it just because you were wearing that straw hat
and that pretty summer dress
And I was standing in the courtyard, alone in a crowd
holding a scotch and soda in one hand
and a gin and tonic in the other?

I told you that you looked 'vintage'
and you told me that there was something sexy
about a hard-drinking sort of old-fashioned man

Whatever it was, it was one of the best things I ever did
We could have been lovers
But instead we became friends

I was jealous, one time
because you had a crush on someone else
because you were paying attention to someone else
But it passed, and I saw that that was not who we were

When everyone else turned on me
You were still there
And when everyone else turned on me again
You were still there

And all these years later, you are still here

When I'm feeling lost, and down,
and like there's no one in the world who loves me
who gets me
who thinks well of me
I can write to you, and you'll be there
When you're at the end of your tether
and feel like you can't endure another second on this earth
You call me, and know that I will understand

And so, this is to say Thank You
and that I Love You
my dear, sweet, special friend

A Christmas Poem for You

I think I know now,
why I think of you at Christmas
Why, to me, Christmas means you

Christmas is
the most beautiful time of the year
And to me,
you are the most beautiful of women
To me, looking at your face
is like looking at a Christmas tree;
shining, sparkling, glowing, enchanting

Christmas means
a home full of love
the lights of tree and candles
the warmth of the fire
the glow of food and wine
the joy of giving and receiving
the peace of belonging
And those are all the same things
that you make me feel

At Christmas
there is that indefinable spirit in the air
That sense of hope, of excitement, of expectation
Of goodness, love, and deep and lasting joy
And those are the things I feel
when I think of you
when I am around you
when I just remember that you are in the world

Christmas is all these things;
sublimely beautiful, profoundly joyful
because at Christmas, we savor the sweet presence of Christ

And you are all these things to me
because in you, I also taste His presence
In loving you, I abide in His love

I received these pictures this morning, from one of the outreaches I sponsor in India. They are celebrating my birthday (which I am not, although that cake looks delicious enough to make me re-think it). I found it touching and sweet (and humbling), so I thought you might enjoy them too.

It makes me unspeakably happy that these hungry children are eating, and eating my birthday cake. Since I was a child, when my mother used to say "Eat, there are starving children in...", I have often wished that I could send what I was eating just then to those starving children. This is like that actually happened.

He could not look at her enough; the more he gazed at her, the more she pleased him...looking at her restored and delighted him."

-- Chretien de Troyes, Erec et Enide

"The maiden was very beautiful, for Nature in making her had turned all her attentions to the task. Nature herself had marveled more than five hundred times at how she had been able to make such a beautiful thing just once, for since then, strive as she might, she had never been able to duplicate in any way her original model. Nature bears witness to this: never was such a beautiful creature seen in the whole world. In truth I tell you that Isolde the Blonde had not such shining golden hair, for compared to this maiden she was nothing. Her face and forehead were fairer and brighter than the lily-flower; contrasting marvelously with the whiteness, her face was illuminated by a fresh, glowing color that Nature had given her. Her eyes glowed with such brightness that they resembled two stars; never had God made finer nose, mouth, nor eyes. What should I say of her beauty? She was truly one who was made to be looked at, for one might gaze at her just as one gazes into a glass."

"Indeed  though beautiful  her good sense is worth even more than her beauty. God never made such a wise creature, nor one so noble in spirit."

"When I have (her) near me, I would not give a marble for the whole world: she is my delight, she is my diversion, she is my solace and my comfort, she is my wealth and my treasure. I love nothing else as much as her."

 -- Chretien de Troyes, Erec and Enide

"Loneliness was the first thing that God's eye named not good."

 - Milton

"I’d like to be with a woman, I can’t live without love, without a woman. I wouldn’t care a fig for life if there wasn’t something infinite, something deep, something real."

ibid

"For my part, I still continually have the most impossible and highly unsuitable love affairs from which, as a rule, I emerge only with shame and disgrace."

-- Vincent van Gogh

Come Again, Sweet Love

"You Cannot Barre Love Oute" by Arthur Hughes

Come again! 

Sweet love doth now invite

Thy graces that refrain

To do me due delight,

To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,

With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

Come again! 

That I may cease to mourn

Through thy unkind disdain;

For now left and forlorn

I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die

In deadly pain and endless misery.

All the day 

The sun that lends me shine

By frowns do cause me pine

And feeds me with delay;

Her smiles, my springs that makes my joys to grow,

Her frowns the Winters of my woe.

All the night 

My sleeps are full of dreams,

My eyes are full of streams.

My heart takes no delight

To see the fruits and joys that some do find

And mark the storms are me assign'd.

Out alas, 

My faith is ever true,

Yet will she never rue

Nor yield me any grace;

Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made,

Whom tears nor truth may once invade.

Gentle Love, 

Draw forth thy wounding dart,

Thou canst not pierce her heart;

For I, that do approve

By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts

Did tempt while she for triumph laughs.

-- John Dowland

John Dowland--Now, O Now

Rediscovering Ancient Greek Music

This is very interesting. If you find this sort of thing interesting. I love the piece on the "Louvre" aulos. Reminds me of sitting in Mr. Tumnus's house by the fire.

Patricia JANEČKOVÁ: "Les oiseaux dans la charmille" (Jacques Offenbach -...

This is...wow. I thought it was going to be cute, until she opened her mouth and started singing, whereupon my jaw dropped. I've never heard a soprano with such power and precision--and most stunning of all, her voice has that quality that so many sopranos lack--beauty. Even at the highest notes, where so many of them sound like they're just screaming.

I would love to hear her and Anna Netrebko sing the Sull'aria. Perfection.