Uma questão de maçãs...

William Blake - "The Temptation Of Eve"

O comandante da zona marítima do Algarve decidiu proibir a distribuição de maçãs nas praias algarvias, isto depois de ter proibido as massagens alegando que estas sabe-se como começam mas nunca se sabe como acabam. "Idem ,idem, aspas, aspas" para as maçãs, acrescento eu, conforme se prova na gravura acima.

William Blake: "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" (17)

To Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

All pray in their distress:

And to these virtues of delight

Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is God our father dear:

And Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is Man his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart Pity,

a human face:

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man of every clime,

That prays in his distress,

Prays to the human form divine

Love Mercy Pity Peace.

And all must love the human form,

In heathen, turk or jew.

Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell,

There God is dwelling too.

"The Divine Image". Poema e ilustração de William Blake para "Songs of Innocence and of Experience"

William Blake: "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" (16)

I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me.
O! what sweet company!

But to go to school on a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.

Ah! then at times I drooping sit
,And spend many an anxious hour,
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning's bower,
Worn thro' with the dreary shower.

How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring?

O! father and mother, if buds are nipped
And blossoms blown away,
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay,

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer's fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?

"The School Boy" - poema e ilustração de William Blake para "Songs of Innocence and of Experience".

William Blake: "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" (15)

Little girl,

Sweet and small;

Cock does crow,

So do you;

Merry voice,

Infant noise;

Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.

Little lamb,

Here I am;

Come and lick

My white neck;

Let me pull

Your soft wool;

Let me kiss

Your soft face;

Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.

"Spring" (cont.) - Ilustração e poema de William Blake em "Songs of Innocence and of Experience"

William Blake: "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" (14)

Sound the flute!

Now it's mute!

Bird's delight,

Day and night,

Nightingale,

In the dale,

Lark in sky,

Merrily,

Merrily merrily, to welcome in the year.

"Spring" (parte 1) - Ilustração e poema de William Blake em "Songs of Innocence and of Experience"

William Blake: "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" (13)

Can I see another's woe,

And not be in sorrow too?

Can I see another's grief,

And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,

And not feel my sorrow's share?

Can a father see his childWeep,

nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear

An infant groan, an infant fear?

No, no! never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all

Hear the wren with sorrows small,

Hear the small bird's grief and care,

Hear the woes that infants bear --

And not sit beside the next,

Pouring pity in their breast,

And not sit the cradle near,

Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day,

Wiping all our tears away?

Oh no! never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all:

He becomes an infant small,

He becomes a man of woe,

He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,

And thy Maker is not by:

Think not thou canst weep a tear,

And thy Maker is not year.

Oh He gives to us his joy,

That our grief He may destroy:

Till our grief is fled an gone

He doth sit by us and moan.

"On Anothers Sorrow" - Ilustração e poema de William Blake para "Songs of Innocence and of Experience"