“What in the land’s name happened to your hair?” M’Baku said, walking to him under the banian.
“Shuri said it was in her way,” Ingcuka answered placidly, as if he had not worn his hair up in messy buns every time M’Baku had seen him before. “And then the kids decided it needed color.”
A little bit hesitate to post this one as it’s only in Chinese
This is drew for a poem.
It’s too difficult for me to translate those beautiful words in an accurate way.
I will appreciate if someone could help to translate it into English.
All right, here’s my attempt at translation, @xxxxxx6x. Paragraph breaks indicate panel breaks.
To the Oak Tree
If I were to love you, I would not be like the clambering campsis flower, Using your tall branches to flaunt my self;
If I were to love you, I would not be like the besotten bird, Repeating the same simplistic tune in exchange for shade;
Nor would I be merely the source of spring water, Always there to provide support and refreshment; Nor just the tall cliffs, There to increase your height and accent your dignity. Or even the sunlight. Or even the spring rain. No, those are not enough!
I must be a Kapok tree by your side, Stand with you as a tree. Roots, firmly entwined in the ground; Leaves, gently brushing in the clouds.
With every passing breeze, We murmur to each other, Speaking words That none else will understand.
You with your branches of iron and your trunk of steel, Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd; My with my red blossoms, Like a heavy sigh, Or a brazen torch.
Together we bear the cold winds, the pounding rain and the crackling lightning; Together we share the morning fog, the evening mist, and the rainbow. We stand, seemingly separated, Yet we will always be there for each other.
Only this can be truly profound love, where loyalty and faith lives: Love – I love not just your majestic being, I love also your stubborn position, The ground beneath your feet.
Idk which version is better but I think I’m leaning a bit more with the instagram version. The filter makes it kinda dreamy like. Looks like an ol’ prom or wedding photo
This is a painting of Jacek Malczewski called simply ‘Death’ and it’s my favourite personification of death in any medium.
She’s not creepy or scary, or sexy, or abstract. She is this thick woman with worn hands, dressed as normal, with a non-stylised scythe and pins in her hair: like a farmer’s wife that just came form the field and rests against the wall, catching some sun. She is not creeping about the dying one holding her scythe over their head, she is just there, calmly waiting her turn.
This painting always fills me with peace and optimism when I think about death. She is just there, outside the window, in no hurry at all, sensible and down to earth. I can live with that.
Jacek Malczewski (15 July 1854 – 8 October 1929) is one of the most revered painters of Poland, associated with the patriotic Young Poland movement following the century of Partitions. He is regarded as the father of Polish Symbolism. In his creative output, Malczewski combined the predominant style of his times, with historical motifs of Polish martyrdom, the Romantic ideals of independence, Christian and Greek traditions, folk mythology, as well as his love of the natural environment.
I think that’s an axe? But IIRC, that’s an alternative tool for Death in Eastern Europe, along with a sword.
This is so cool??? I mean, somebody just… looked at these things and thought “ah yes that is obviously an ant-eater’s trunk. And these are two snakes in love. Now I just gotta show everyone else” and that’s so fucking creative and amazing
Steel Phoenix Studios 