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Sunday, November 11, 2012

every flower knows a secret



T H E   M O O N 

by Edith Sodergran

How all things dead are wonderful
and unspeakable:
a dead leaf and a dead body
and the crescent moon.
And every flower knows a secret
and the forest guards it:
the circle of the moon around our earth
is the path of death.
And the moon spins its miraculous fabric
that flowers love,
and the moon weaves its wonderful web
around all that lives.
And the moon's scythe mows flowers down
in late autumn nights,
and all flowers await the moon's kiss
in endless longing.



~ transl. by Stina Katchadourian from Love & Solitude: Selected Poems 1916-1923





Four similar versions of a shot I took this morning. Trying to capture the secret of the flower, the secret that the moon knows. The ebb and flow, the cycle around the earth. And we love, as the flowers do, no differently. How unspeakable this one is with its long, golden hair, hanging over, alive somehow, even in its winter.




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