Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the interplay of beauty and melancholy, suggesting a profound appreciation for emotions and experiences.
In this quote, William Wordsworth expresses the idea that true beauty often arises from a combination of joy and sadness. The 'Elysian beauty' evokes images of paradise and perfection, while 'melancholy grace' introduces a sense of depth and contemplation. Wordsworth suggests that these contrasting emotions together create a richer, more meaningful experience, drawing from both happiness and reflective thought.
In practice
This quote can be used during a discussion on the role of emotions in art.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo! By water, wood and hill, by reed and willow, By fire, sun and moon, harken now and hear us! Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!
My metaphor for translation has always been that translation is really a performance art. You take the original and try to perform it, really, in a different medium. Part of that is about interpretation and what you think the author's voice really is.
In a successful painting everything is integral - all the parts belong to the whole. If you remove an aspect or element you are removing its wholeness.
Hollywood is like being nowhere and talking to nobody about nothing.
No, the thing is, we all love storytelling, and as a writer you get to tell stories all the time.
And its object is Art not power, sub-creation not domination and tyrannous re-forming of Creation.
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