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Tag Archives: touring

Facade versus culture influences


Architecture at its best! ©copyright2014owpp

Architecture at its best!
©copyright2014owpp

A photo I dug up from my files which to me is the definition of architecture at its best.

Each country differentiates itself by their food, art and architecture, this is the facade

of a house in the suburbs of Sint-Moritz.

©copyright2014owpp

©copyright2014owpp

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The magic of Burano


A mirage of an hour, a day... ©copyright2014owpp

A mirage of an hour, a day…
©copyright2014owpp

It is hard to sustain enthusiasm when speaking of Burano
A flood of memories inundate everyday realities…
Preferring to fly back in time & resuscitate the
Mirage of a second, an hour or a day rather
Than seeing our rainbows after the storm or
Lift our gaze to the stars in our skies…

P.S
You gather from these few lines the wonderful time we had in Burano a while back, a village of fishermen & laces, which was enhanced by the encounter of a renowned painted Carlo Memo that inspired me to describe this unique day through poetry.
You can check it here https://oawritingspoemspaintings.wordpress.com/2013/06/24/burano-carlo-memo-memories-of-an-encounter-24-6-2013/
and here https://oawritingspoemspaintings.wordpress.com/2013/01/01/burano-2013-french-poem-with-english-translation/
and another one on Venice & its dream… https://oawritingspoemspaintings.wordpress.com/2013/01/01/venice-2013-french-poem-with-english-translation-inauguration-of-year-2013/

Courtesy of Wikipedia
Burano is an island in the Venetian Lagoon, northern Italy; like Venice itself, it could more correctly be called an archipelago of four islands linked by bridges. It is situated near Torcello at the northern end of the Lagoon, and is known for its lacework and brightly coloured homes.

Burano's charm ©copyright2014owpp

Burano’s charm
©copyright2014owpp

Dream of a day ©copyright2014owpp

Dream of a day
©copyright2014owpp

Living life to its fullest! ©copyright2014owpp

Living life to its fullest!
©copyright2014owpp

A memorable day in Holland-Dordrecht # 3 (my third video!)


Quite a while back I posted a French poem translated in English on Holland the authentic.
This country has a spell on me 🙂 I find it refreshing, rejuvenating, eco-friendly, positively charming and magical.
This time I’m posting a video of another memorable day… my photos accompanied by music.
Let me know what you think of it!

P.s I have put my three videos under the tittles:

1.A memorable day in Sounds of Nature – Waterfall # 1
2.A memorable day in Relaxing sea wave sounds # 2
3.A memorable day in Holland-Dordrecht # 3

Published on Sep 25, 2013
This is a tribute to a very beautiful country. I hope you will enjoy this third video I am publishing. Positive feedback is always welcome!
Category
Entertainment
License
Standard YouTube License

Nameless flower… Not anymore! It’s the passiflora


Nameless ©copyright2013owpp

Nameless
©copyright2013owpp

I found this on a magical visit to Dordrecht-Holland (that’ll be for another post :)) thinking it was artificial with all its layers and different shades but soon realized it was very real!
I have a slight problem… I have no idea how it’s called and tried unsuccessfully to look it up on the internet… does anyone have that kind of knowledge, name,origin and if it’s natural or manipulated?

I just got a wonderful blogger http://ladybluerose.wordpress.com/ who gave me the name so with the courtesy of Wikipedia I’m giving you more information…
It is really ironical that I used Passiflora in homeopathy, Spagyric solutions and you name it but had never seen the photo of that flower 🙂

Passiflora, known also as the passion flowers or passion vines, is a genus of about 500 species of flowering plants, the namesakes of the family Passifloraceae. They are mostly vines, with some being shrubs, and a few species being herbaceous. For information about the fruit of the passiflora plant, see passionfruit. The monotypic genus Hollrungia seems to be inseparable from Passiflora, but further study is needed.

The family Passifloraceae has a pantropical distribution. Passiflora itself is absent from Africa, where many other members of the family Passifloraceae occur (e.g. the more plesiomorphic Adenia).
Nine species of Passiflora are native to the USA, found from Ohio to the north, west to California and south to the Florida Keys. Most other species are found in South America, Eastern Asia, and Southern Asia, New Guinea, four or more species in Australia and a single endemic species in New Zealand. New species continue to be identified: for example, P. pardifolia and P. xishuangbannaensis have only been known to the scientific community since 2006 and 2005, respectively.

For further information here’s the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passiflora

Layer upon layer ©copyright2013owpp

Layer upon layer
©copyright2013owpp

Jerusalem March 2012 English poem with its original text


©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

This poem is a result of a memorable first time rainy visit, to Jerusalem

Jerusalem
————-

We climb
Painfully toward you
The cypresses point their
Peaks toward the heavens
Toward you God

It is winter and cold
But in my heart
Is joy
For I find you, dripping
Noisy, stirring
As a sister

Jerusalem in rain
The Wall, where everything glistens
Is to have touched God,
To wrap oneself in divine,
Being in the center, a concave
Let one self coddled.

How your stones are beautiful!
Witnesses of time
Sculptured by the wind
Cold by moments
Scorching often
I approach to brush you lightly…

Per emotion, I hesitate
But my hand rushes
My eyes close
Your energy encircles me
And my soul loves…

As a blind
I follow your relief
Forget my grievances
Time fades
A horn bellows
A prayer for the mass

I am bound to you
By serenity, your pride
Your wisdom and faith
Never had I seen you
As glistening and adorned
Sparkling and sated

Then, we move away painfully. From you
Oh! Jerusalem
The cypresses point their peaks through the mist
My eyes cloud over

Toward the heavens,
Toward you, God.
————-

Jérusalem
————

Nous grimpons péniblement vers toi
Les cyprès pointent leurs
Cimes vers les cieux
Vers toi Dieu.

C’est l’hiver, il fait froid
Mais dans mon cœur
C’est la joie.
Car je te retrouve ruisselante
Bruyante et émouvante
Comme une sœur.

Jérusalem dans la pluie,
Le Mur où tout luit,
C’est toucher Dieu.
M’envelopper de divinité
Etre au centre, au creux
Me laisser dorloter

Que tes pierres sont belles !
Témoin du temps
Sculpter par le vent
Froide par moment
Brûlante souvent
Je m’approche pour t’effleurer…

Par émotions j’hésite
Mais ma main se précipite
Mes yeux se ferment
Ton énergie me cerne
Et mon âme t’aime.

Comme une aveugle
Je suis tes reliefs
Oublie mes griefs
Le temps s’efface
Une corne beugle
Une prière pour la masse

Je suis lié à toi
Par la sérénité, ta fierté
Ta sagesse et ta foi
Jamais je ne t’avais vu
Aussi luisante et parée
Brillante et repu.

Puis, nous nous éloignons péniblement. De toi
Ô ! Jérusalem
Les cyprès pointent leurs cimes à travers la brume
Mes yeux s’embrument.

Vers les cieux,
Vers toi, Dieu.

Venice 2013 ( French poem with English translation ) Inauguration of year 2013!


©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

This poem was created soon after the count down hence the ” opening of… ” title
and is a result of a few summer days in a world full of dream and fantasy.
We had an amazing apartment-guide service from someone called Massimo Levis,
His references are,
massimolevis@gmail.com

Happy, healthy and serene new year!

Venice
———

Venice the beautiful
You sell dream by the load

The world envies you
Their imitation such pale
Reproduction!

The language that sings
“ Permesso “ in a quivering note

The Tabacchi, the stamps,
The postcards, sent hastily
To share, those seconds

Counted, this marvel.
This town so beautiful

That sells dream,
By the load

___________

Venise
——–

Venise la belle
Tu vends du rêve à la pelle

Le monde te jalouse
Leurs imitations si pâle
Reproduction !

La langue qui chante
« Permesso « en note frémissante

Les Tabacchi , les timbres,
Les cartes postales, envoyé à la hâte
Pour partager, ces secondes

Compté, cette merveille.
Cette ville si belle

Qui vend du rêve,
A la pelle