Chega o Outono

Henri Le Sidaner, An Autumn Evening (1895)

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Song of The Flower 

I am a kind word uttered and repeated 

By the voice of Nature; 

I am a star fallen from the 

Blue tent upon the green carpet. 

I am the daughter of the elements 

With whom Winter conceived; 

To whom Spring gave birth; I was 

Reared in the lap of Summer and I 

Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze 

To announce the coming of light; 

At eventide I join the birds 

In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with 

My beautiful colors, and the air 

Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of

Night watch over me, and as I 

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is 

The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to

The voices of the birds, and dance 

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath; 

I am the memory of a moment of happiness; 

I am the last gift of the living to the dead; 

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light, 

And never look down to see my shadow. 

This is wisdom which man must learn. 

-

Khalil Gibran 

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Alfred Stevens, Autumn Flowers (1867, Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium)

Nocturnos

Henri Le Sidaner, Les Maisons du Port au Clair de Lune (1924).
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«And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairyland is before us--then the wayfarer hastens home; the working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master--her son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.
To him her secrets are unfolded, to him her lessons have become gradually clear. He looks at he flower, not with the enlarging lens, that he may gather facts for the botanist, but with the light of the one who sees in her choice selection of brilliant tones and delicate tints, suggestions of future harmonies».
---
Whistler (1885).

Outono

Henri Le Sidaner, Outono (1923).

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«Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all». 

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Stanley Horowitz.

Domingo

Henri Le Sidaner, O Domingo (1898, Musée de la Chartreuse, Douai).
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«La rêverie est le dimanche de la pensée».

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     Henri-Frédéric Amiel.