Into the Vienna Woods
View of Vienna's 14th District
from "Roter Berg" in the 13th District
Roter Berg
Meadows and Woods 13th District
Sunflowers
Community Gardens Roter Berg
Bike at Rest
Roter Berg
One of my favourite spots of Roter Berg:
Over these meadows, if you are lucky,
you can observe a good dozen of larks rising
and listen to their song - it's mesmerising
Beautiful captures, lovely skies and the poem by George Meredith is perfect!! I love it! Thanks for sharing the beauty, Merisi, as always! Hope you have a wonderful weekend!!
Thank you, Sylvia, and thanks from the bottom of my heart that you are so kind to comment when I am away and/or can't find to visit you as much as I would like to! Hugs, M.
Thank you, Arija! I looked it up and, yes, it is so herzergreifend schön, thank you for reminding me!
Ode to a Skylark by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert - That from Heaven or near it Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of Heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight -
Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: -
Like a Poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden In a palace-tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aërial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingéd thieves:
Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers - All that ever was Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, Sprite or Bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus hymeneal, Or triumphal chant, Matched with thine would be all but an empty vaunt - A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet, if we could scorn Hate and pride and fear, If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know; Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
ach wie schön! der rote berg hat mir bis jetzt gar nichts gesagt. schade, dass er auf der anderen seite von wien ist. sonst würde mein rad dort auch gerne mal rast machen.. liebe grüße, maje
Hallo! :-) Geht ganz leicht, U4 bis Ober St. Veit, Rad mitnehmen, 10 Minuten radeln. Ist wirklich wunderschön, gibt sogar zwei Gasthäuser dort oben, die Wildsau und noch eines, bei der Gemeindewiese.
I just love that bike picture. The colors are so great. Makes me want to get on my bike and have a picnic somewhere. BTW I live in MA. on the north shore of Boston. I just liked the term cornbread crumbles...sometimes I go by a gathering of days also.
Eine Radlerin? Wenn ich den Rad sehe, das interessiert mich sehr :-) Alle meine Blogs findest du in meinem Profil Google+. Schöne Grüsse nach Wien, Daniela
Listening to the music, taking in the poetry and your wonderful images brings tranquility this morning. How lovely to be able to bike to the meadows. Love the sunflowers, too!
The music was perfect! What beautiful summer images. I can almost breathe the fresh air! Love the puppy dog running along and the light on the sunflowers ... What a lovely spot!
A lovely SWF-post!
ReplyDeleteWonderful shots from ever inviting fields.
ReplyDeleteThank you, and the meadows and fields up there are ever inviting, indeed! :-)
DeleteBeautiful captures, lovely skies and the poem by George Meredith is perfect!! I love it! Thanks for sharing the beauty, Merisi, as always! Hope you have a wonderful weekend!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sylvia,
Deleteand thanks from the bottom of my heart that you are so kind to comment when I am away and/or can't find to visit you as much as I would like to!
Hugs,
M.
Lovely scenes and images. The views are beautiful and I love the field of sunflowers! Have a happy weekend!
ReplyDeleteThank you, and a wonderful summer weekend to you, too!
DeleteLove the sunflowers and the shot with the bicycle particularly, but all are great photos.
ReplyDeleteI love my bike, a super deal at €30, imagine! ;-)
DeleteMerisi, do you know Percy Bisshey Shelley's "Ode to a Skylark"? I absolutely love it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Arija!
DeleteI looked it up and, yes, it is so herzergreifend schön,
thank you for reminding me!
Ode to a Skylark
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert -
That from Heaven or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest,
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of Heaven,
In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight -
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear,
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
What thou art we know not;
DeleteWhat is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: -
Like a Poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace-tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aërial hue
Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflowered,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingéd thieves:
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers -
All that ever was
Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Matched with thine would be all
but an empty vaunt -
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet, if we could scorn
Hate and pride and fear,
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know;
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Dash it, I misspelled Bysshe!
ReplyDeleteDanke, besonders für die schöne Musik dazu :-)
ReplyDeleteLiebe Grüsze
Mascha
Danke! :-)
Deleteach wie schön! der rote berg hat mir bis jetzt gar nichts gesagt. schade, dass er auf der anderen seite von wien ist. sonst würde mein rad dort auch gerne mal rast machen..
ReplyDeleteliebe grüße, maje
Hallo! :-)
DeleteGeht ganz leicht, U4 bis Ober St. Veit, Rad mitnehmen, 10 Minuten radeln.
Ist wirklich wunderschön, gibt sogar zwei Gasthäuser dort oben, die Wildsau und noch eines, bei der Gemeindewiese.
A beautiful summery treat!
ReplyDeleteYes, Shelley's poem is an all time favorite!
The best thing about is I can go there whenever time allows! ;-)
DeleteWill take you there during your next visit to Vienna,
bigggg hug,
M. xxx
Love love the bike one.
ReplyDeleteI just love that bike picture. The colors are so great. Makes me want to get on my bike and have a picnic somewhere. BTW I live in MA. on the north shore of Boston. I just liked the term cornbread crumbles...sometimes I go by a gathering of days also.
ReplyDeleteNow there is my idea of a good time
ReplyDeleteEine Radlerin? Wenn ich den Rad sehe, das interessiert mich sehr :-)
ReplyDeleteAlle meine Blogs findest du in meinem Profil Google+.
Schöne Grüsse nach Wien, Daniela
Listening to the music, taking in the poetry and your wonderful images brings tranquility this morning. How lovely to be able to bike to the meadows. Love the sunflowers, too!
ReplyDeleteThe sky looms enormous over the fields. You've painted a lovely picture of Vienna today.
ReplyDeleteThe music was perfect! What beautiful summer images. I can almost breathe the fresh air! Love the puppy dog running along and the light on the sunflowers ... What a lovely spot!
ReplyDelete