Mujer en el jardín, Pierre-Auguste Renior (1872)
Woman in the Garden
Emeralds, Sapphires, Topazes, Rubies
Filling my garden this sunny June day
Come walk, feeling the gentle warming breeze
See bees here and there dancing their ballet
Stop to wonder a greater sight to see
Profusion of color before my eyes
Drinking without pause all of its beauty
All on display under a clear blue sky
No need for the gardens of Babylon
Or Cimetière du Père Lachaise
Forget manicured gardens of Fairlawn
For me to be, there is no other place
Each little gem I consider a friend
This is where I shall my many hours spend
Windflowers, John William Waterhouse (1902)
Thou garner my flowers then dash away,
Thy beauty is much greater than their sum.
Alluring garden would be if thou stay,
Just remain ‘til thee be final blossom.
Sent the wind to touch your ivory skin.
Purer than that of newborn mother’s milk,
Protecting thy beauty which burns within.
Come stay awhile so I may touch thy silk.
Do sense a hesitation in thy pace,
Thy action causes heartbeat to increase.
Turn so I may see thy beautiful face,
This feeling of love for thee shall not cease.
Let me braid my flowers into thy hair,
And I shall give my heart to thee to wear.
Boy with Pitcher, Edouard Manet (1872)
In my body a desire to express
If left undone surely I will explode
Is your great beauty eager to possess
It is in my heart shall be your abode
To hold you intimately in my hands
Drinking of your young love with eagerness
With every sip my love for you expands
Oh to fully bathe in your tenderness
Your skin softer than the world’s finest silk
Touching mine makes me want you even more
This feeling of love for you will not wilt
As I never felt this anguish before
Quietly we can go to river’s edge
There together shall take the lover’s pledge
Tra i fiori del giardino, Silvestro Lega (1862)
Among Flowers in the Garden, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Silent among flowers in the garden,
Playing a game so aptly called Pretend.
Reading it appears, but already done,
To happy thoughts of you I may attend.
You’re here in a bed with many flowers,
Stooping down you are the very first pick.
Soon inside my heart a warm feeling stirs,
There be not any doubt, I am lovesick.
This book I hold, wishing it be your hand,
To walk with you under the summer light.
Your quickest return, if I could command,
It will not be pretend, lonely this night.
The morning will come, I shall make our bed.
Without you, a million tears will I shed.
Femme lisant dans un massif de Rhododendrons, Anna Boch (c. 1900)
Rhododendrons, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Fragrances fill my air from very side.
The vacuum quickly pulls them inside.
To my memory permanently tied,
The sweetness of this melancholy ride.
This book with great effort I do proceed,
Reading each line more than once must concede,
For my euphoric mind cannot be freed,
Just to turn a page fragrances impede.
Rhododendrons may they be pink or white,
Provide many souls with so much delight.
Into a bag, every bloom in my sight,
To sprinkle upon my bed every night.
Knowing your season’s end be very near,
Patiently await your return next year.