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Ton van Kempen Photos

· Dutch landscapes: Trees (fall 2012) · Dutch landscapes: Trees (november 2012) · Ton van Kempen Photos: Winter (December 21, 2010) · Ton van Kempen photos: Winter (December 20, 2010) · Ton van Kempen photos: TREES 25-10-2010 · Dutch landscape: Trees, September 13, 2010 · Dutch landscape: Trees, September 6, 2010 · Dutch Landscape: Trees · Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 5 · Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 4 · Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 3 · Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 2

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Dutch landscapes: Trees (fall 2012)

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Photo’s : Ton van Kempen © 2012

Dutch landscapes (Trees 06)

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Dutch landscapes: Trees (november 2012)

Photo’s : Ton van Kempen 2012

Dutch landscapes

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Ton van Kempen Photos: Winter (December 21, 2010)

Ton van Kempen photos:

Winter (December 21, 2010)

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Ton van Kempen photos: Winter (December 20, 2010)

Ton van Kempen photos:

Winter (December 20, 2010)

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Ton van Kempen photos: TREES 25-10-2010

Ton van Kempen photos

TREES – October 25, 2010

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Dutch landscape: Trees, September 13, 2010

Ton van Kempen photos

Dutch landscape: Trees

September 13, 2010

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Dutch landscape: Trees, September 6, 2010

Ton van Kempen photos

Trees (Dutch landscape)

September 6, 2010

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Dutch Landscape: Trees

 Ton van Kempen photos

Trees (Dutch landscape)

August 11, 2010

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Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 5

Algernon Charles Swinburne

(1873-1909)

 

Autumn And Winter

Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
Between two dates of death, while men were fain
Yet of the living light that all too soon
Three months bade wane.

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain,
Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune
That death smote silent when he smote again.

First went my friend, in life’s mid light of noon,
Who loved the lord of music: then the strain
Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June
Three months bade wane.

A herald soul before its master’s flying
Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal
Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying
A herald soul;

Shades of dead lords of music, who control
Men living by the might of men undying,
With strength of strains that make delight of dole.

The deep dense dust on death’s dim threshold lying
Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole
Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying
A herald soul.

One went before, one after, but so fast
They seem gone hence together, from the shore
Whence we now gaze: yet ere the mightier passed
One went before;

One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore
On that high joy which music lends us, cast
Light round him forth of music’s radiant store.

Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast,
The mortal god he worshipped, through the door
Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last,
One went before.

A star had set an hour before the sun
Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart’s pulse yet
Thrills audibly: but few took heed, or none,
A star had set.

All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret,
The deep dirge of the sunset: how should one
Soft star be missed in all the concourse met?

But, O sweet single heart whose work is done,
Whose songs are silent, how should I forget
That ere the sunset’s fiery goal was won
A star had set?

 

Ton van Kempen photos: Autumn 5

A.C. Swinburne poetry

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Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 4

William Blake

(1757-1827)

To Autumn

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stainèd
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
`The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

`The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.’
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

Ton van Kempen photos: Autumn 4

W. Blake poetry

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Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 3

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

(1828-1882)

Autumn Song

Know’st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems–not to suffer pain?

Know’st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

 

Ton van Kempen photos: Autumn 3

D.G. Rossetti poetry

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Photos & poetry: Ton van Kempen, Autumn 2

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(1807-1882) 

Autumn

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven’s o’er-hanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

 

Ton van Kempen photos: Autumn 2

H. W. Longfellow poetry

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