Artist Arnaud d'Hauterives ... ~ ... ~ Flowers of Evil
Hello!
I suggest to you, my beloved, today dive into the magical and mystical world of poetry by Charles Baudelaire and paintings by French artist
Arno D'Otriv Arnaud d'Hauterives ...
Arnaud d'Hauterives
IDEAL
No, not licked babe with pictures -
Centuries vulgar spilled everywhere poison! -
Neither foot wedged in Cord shoes
Nor handle with a fan I was not offended.
Let enthusiastically sings his chlorosis,
Hospital beauty deceived, Gavarnie -
Otherwise it to me consumptive rose;
My red ideal way they are not akin!
No, my heart, dangling over the abyss,
Only, Lady Macbeth, you close the soul of iron,
You embodied Aeschylus dream
Yes you, O Night, still able to captivate my eye,
Daughter Michelangelo owes form
Titans, but you saturate the mouth!
Charles Baudelaire "Flowers of Evil"
Baudelaire, of course, know all, but about the artist say a few words ...
Arnaud d'Hauterives
Born on 02.26.1933 in the town of Brenn.
Arnaud d'Hauterives was born in 1933, in Brenng. studied at the School of Fine Arts. In 1955 he entered the Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris and in workshops Legueult Goerg.Po end received the highest nagradu- "Prix de Rome"
Long lived in Italy, in 1981 he became an artist of the Navy.
Winner of France's largest awards in the field of fine art.
The main creative work: "Violet canapés" (1966-1980), "Night Birds" (1972), "The Shadow" (1980), "siesta in Trabzon" (1) (1985), "siesta in Trabzon" (2 ) (1985), "Kara-Kum. Vereshchagin Memory" (1986).
Honorary Member of the USSR Academy of Arts (1988). President of the Society of French Artists (Salon). President of the Academy of Fine Arts of France (1987). Vice president of Taylor. Vice-president of the International Society of Arts.
D'Otriva works are in the collections of major museums in the world and exhibited in the USSR, the USA, Spain, Italy, Germany, Belgium, Canada, Brazil, the UK, China and Japan.
Working mainly in oil painting, pastels less, A. d'Otriv in figurative form tends to embody the idea of ??human feelings and moods ....
And So ...
Charles Baudelaire. Les Fleurs du mal.
Paris, Club du Livre, 1985.
Illustrator Arnaud d'Hauterives.
BEAUTY
On the death! like a dream of stone, I am beautiful!
And my chest that will destroy all the succession,
Heart of artists tormented love imperiously,
Such substances, the eternal and silent.
In the blue kingdom I nepostizhnym Sphinx;
Like a swan, I white and cold as snow;
Defying movement admire fixed;
Forever I do not laugh, do not cry I ever.
I - a rigorous model for the proud statues,
And with a vain thirst saturate smooth dreams
Poets before me leaning in the dust.
But they are to me implies submission and lovers
Radiance of eternity in my eyes, sleepless,
Where are all the more beautiful as a pure mirror.
FLIGHT
High above the water, high above the meadows,
Mountains, clouds and waves of the seas,
Over the mountainous area of ??the stars and the sun's rays
My spirit, ether waves are not constrained by banks,
How obmirayuschy on the crests of waves swimmer
My spirit rises to the worlds of boundless;
Delight caught nothing expressible,
Vastness crisscrossing it from end to end!
Leave the earth's mist unclean poisonous;
Ether mountainous country cleaned and warmed,
As the nectar of fire, heavenly light bites,
In the spaces endlessly mysterious spilled
Being weighed down by fog,
Country of gloom and sorrow vast
Forsake, to flap dart away forever
In the field of the blessed in heaven land! ..
Blessed is the only one whose idea a boost dawn,
Free bird tends to heaven -
Who heeded flowers and herbs dumb voices,
Whose spirit rises high above the earth!
SED NON SATIATA *
Who carved you in the darkness of night,
What native Faust devil savannah?
You smell like musk and tobacco Havana
Midnight child, my idol fatal.
Neither the opium nor hops compete with you
Do not dare, my demon; you - the land of promise,
Where sad my desires caravans
To the well of your eyes go to drink.
But not cool them - fire, tar and sulfur.
Oh, completely burn me, cruel Vixen!
Understand, I am not the Styx to order: "Cool it!"
Seven-signing you in my arms!
I do not Proserpina, to try curse,
Burn down with you in hell your sheets!
----------
* Not sated (Lat.).
Portrait
Alas, the illness and death all turned to ashes;
Fire warmed our hearts for a moment, faded;
And your bliss sultry huge eyes
And moisture lush lips suddenly became a handful of dust.
The remains scarce saw the soul;
Where are you, heady, all-powerful kisses,
Enthusiasm and bright shining of a brief? ..
Oh, your circuit hesitate as three pencils.
But alone, and he, like me, will die -
And time, angry old man, every day hard
Wing monstrous traces erase ...
The murderer of my days, the executioner of dreams black,
Of eternal memory hitherto not you pulling them out
It - my soul and pride and delight!
What can you say, my spirit is always rainy,
Soul faded that you can say
She was full of goodness, her generous, she beautiful?
One heavenly eyes - and you tsvetesh again! ..
Chant of pride will be the hvalima yes,
Whose eyes are strict softer all eyes,
Whose flesh - sinless breath cherub,
Whose gaze I put on the garments of light!
Always: in the darkness of night, cold and cheerless,
On a crowded street, in broad daylight,
Me slip, trembling your cute appearance,
Like a torch, woven from pure fire:
- Dedicated Beauty soul, in my love;
I will be thy muzoyu and Madonna!
COTE
As the room is simple, in my mind with careless
And easy grace all wonderful cat wanders;
He sad song just heard singing;
His meow and softly and gently.
His purr something distinctly heard,
Then the remote, quieter, less;
That voice sounds deep rich
And he secretly ruled over the soul mine.
He is in the bowels of the mysterious black penetrated,
Hung network streams, like drops, Upadana;
To him, as to zeliyu, I pressed his mouth,
How sonorous verse, he fills his chest.
My suffering he has the power to subdue,
He was given to light the blessed ecstasies,
And there is no need him to speak with the heart,
Aimless word term in empty phrases.
Then a voice sweeter melodious bow,
And he solemnly than sonorous strings quivering;
He pierces the chest to me, like a sweet melancholy,
Unattainable jet charm.
Oh wonderful, strange cat! who is your voice at least once
And your mysterious tune ever hear,
He descends into it as the voice of a seraph,
Where are all the subtle harmony of breathing.
Owls
Where yews trail harsh darkness,
As idols for next series
Staring into the dusk red eyes,
Sit and ponder owl.
They are so motionless
Sit and wait for the hour dull,
When the rise unabated
And the sun will overturn the darkness.
Their posture - wise NOTES
Despise the movement forever:
Always suffer punishment
In Love in the shadow man
Hardly by of confusion,
He will speak at the moment, out of the shadows!
LIVING TORCH
Two brothers unearthly, two miraculous eyes
Always in front of me. Skillful seraph
Their fusion of fire, a magnet and a diamond
To seeing the light in the darkness, I followed him.
Two torch alive! Of their obedience,
These gentle servant of servants, now will not leave you ...
Bypassing the trap and a stumbling block,
They lead you dear Beauty.
Their light neugasim, although barely flicker,
As the sun, lamps at the altar,
But those broadcast grief, and these glorify
Death is not the darkness of night - born at the dawn
So let never goes out your strength,
Sunrise lights kindled my soul!
SPIRITUAL Zarya
Only glyanet face dawn and pink and white
And strict ideal, as sad, pure dream,
Go down to the crowd of people, in the obdurate debauchery -
In cattle satiated immediately the angel awakened.
And the souls of the fallen, whose grief is blessed,
Again close to the distant heavens,
The deep azure passionate instantly;
Is not that right, pure goddess descends to us
At that time, when there remains chadyat orgies,
Your image is woven from pink rays?
Eyes widened in delight prayer;
As the sun bright face of grim lights candles
So you, my soul, overthrowing look pale,
Suddenly bleschesh again as immortal light, vsepobedny.
TALK
You are all - like pink autumn sky!
In me is growing again sadness, the shaft tide
And recedes again, like the sea, silent,
And bitter foam again I hurt.
- Your hand slides into the arms of the barren,
To my chest trying to cling desecrated;
Women claws dug up my chest,
And my heart devoured by hungry beasts crowd.
Palace of my soul shamelessly desecrated;
Blasphemy, orgy and death - on all sides -
Flowing round the neck nude flavor!
In it, the beauty of thy scourge, your call and your law!
Sparkling same bright eyes, my dear,
Beasts unnecessary dust on fire burning!
BOTTLE
There are smells, whose power over us is infinite:
In any substance eats forever.
It happens that, outlandish open casket
(Rusty lock stop and vizgliv)
Or somewhere in the corner, broad attic junk
Compacted dust we find ugly
Bottle of perfume: it is dim and empty and dry,
But the memory of it alive, alive the spirit flown away.
Past dreams, enthusiasm and resentment,
Dreams faded - blind chrysalis,
From the musty darkness, how would gain strength,
Vyprastyvayut sudden splendor of the wing.
In azure, gold, scarlet robes
We head was spinning, floating memories ...
And now the soul, captured,
Over the abyss of the slope and gets up from his knees.
Originating from the veil as the resurrected Lazarus,
There's a shadow of love buried alive,
Adorable ghost, dust, flowing fragrance
Out of the pit, where now - rot and decay.
When me and forgetting human
Shove in an old cupboard careless hand,
I'll stay if cracked, dusty,
Miserable, no one ought to bottle
Tomb of yours, Plague, evil potion
Yad created in Paradise, my soul fun
Burning inside the molten lead,
Oh, my heart beginning and the end!
Hello!
I suggest to you, my beloved, today dive into the magical and mystical world of poetry by Charles Baudelaire and paintings by French artist
Arno D'Otriv Arnaud d'Hauterives ...
Arnaud d'Hauterives
IDEAL
No, not licked babe with pictures -
Centuries vulgar spilled everywhere poison! -
Neither foot wedged in Cord shoes
Nor handle with a fan I was not offended.
Let enthusiastically sings his chlorosis,
Hospital beauty deceived, Gavarnie -
Otherwise it to me consumptive rose;
My red ideal way they are not akin!
No, my heart, dangling over the abyss,
Only, Lady Macbeth, you close the soul of iron,
You embodied Aeschylus dream
Yes you, O Night, still able to captivate my eye,
Daughter Michelangelo owes form
Titans, but you saturate the mouth!
Charles Baudelaire "Flowers of Evil"
Baudelaire, of course, know all, but about the artist say a few words ...
Arnaud d'Hauterives
Born on 02.26.1933 in the town of Brenn.
Arnaud d'Hauterives was born in 1933, in Brenng. studied at the School of Fine Arts. In 1955 he entered the Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris and in workshops Legueult Goerg.Po end received the highest nagradu- "Prix de Rome"
Long lived in Italy, in 1981 he became an artist of the Navy.
Winner of France's largest awards in the field of fine art.
The main creative work: "Violet canapés" (1966-1980), "Night Birds" (1972), "The Shadow" (1980), "siesta in Trabzon" (1) (1985), "siesta in Trabzon" (2 ) (1985), "Kara-Kum. Vereshchagin Memory" (1986).
Honorary Member of the USSR Academy of Arts (1988). President of the Society of French Artists (Salon). President of the Academy of Fine Arts of France (1987). Vice president of Taylor. Vice-president of the International Society of Arts.
D'Otriva works are in the collections of major museums in the world and exhibited in the USSR, the USA, Spain, Italy, Germany, Belgium, Canada, Brazil, the UK, China and Japan.
Working mainly in oil painting, pastels less, A. d'Otriv in figurative form tends to embody the idea of ??human feelings and moods ....
And So ...
Charles Baudelaire. Les Fleurs du mal.
Paris, Club du Livre, 1985.
Illustrator Arnaud d'Hauterives.
BEAUTY
On the death! like a dream of stone, I am beautiful!
And my chest that will destroy all the succession,
Heart of artists tormented love imperiously,
Such substances, the eternal and silent.
In the blue kingdom I nepostizhnym Sphinx;
Like a swan, I white and cold as snow;
Defying movement admire fixed;
Forever I do not laugh, do not cry I ever.
I - a rigorous model for the proud statues,
And with a vain thirst saturate smooth dreams
Poets before me leaning in the dust.
But they are to me implies submission and lovers
Radiance of eternity in my eyes, sleepless,
Where are all the more beautiful as a pure mirror.
FLIGHT
High above the water, high above the meadows,
Mountains, clouds and waves of the seas,
Over the mountainous area of ??the stars and the sun's rays
My spirit, ether waves are not constrained by banks,
How obmirayuschy on the crests of waves swimmer
My spirit rises to the worlds of boundless;
Delight caught nothing expressible,
Vastness crisscrossing it from end to end!
Leave the earth's mist unclean poisonous;
Ether mountainous country cleaned and warmed,
As the nectar of fire, heavenly light bites,
In the spaces endlessly mysterious spilled
Being weighed down by fog,
Country of gloom and sorrow vast
Forsake, to flap dart away forever
In the field of the blessed in heaven land! ..
Blessed is the only one whose idea a boost dawn,
Free bird tends to heaven -
Who heeded flowers and herbs dumb voices,
Whose spirit rises high above the earth!
SED NON SATIATA *
Who carved you in the darkness of night,
What native Faust devil savannah?
You smell like musk and tobacco Havana
Midnight child, my idol fatal.
Neither the opium nor hops compete with you
Do not dare, my demon; you - the land of promise,
Where sad my desires caravans
To the well of your eyes go to drink.
But not cool them - fire, tar and sulfur.
Oh, completely burn me, cruel Vixen!
Understand, I am not the Styx to order: "Cool it!"
Seven-signing you in my arms!
I do not Proserpina, to try curse,
Burn down with you in hell your sheets!
----------
* Not sated (Lat.).
Portrait
Alas, the illness and death all turned to ashes;
Fire warmed our hearts for a moment, faded;
And your bliss sultry huge eyes
And moisture lush lips suddenly became a handful of dust.
The remains scarce saw the soul;
Where are you, heady, all-powerful kisses,
Enthusiasm and bright shining of a brief? ..
Oh, your circuit hesitate as three pencils.
But alone, and he, like me, will die -
And time, angry old man, every day hard
Wing monstrous traces erase ...
The murderer of my days, the executioner of dreams black,
Of eternal memory hitherto not you pulling them out
It - my soul and pride and delight!
What can you say, my spirit is always rainy,
Soul faded that you can say
She was full of goodness, her generous, she beautiful?
One heavenly eyes - and you tsvetesh again! ..
Chant of pride will be the hvalima yes,
Whose eyes are strict softer all eyes,
Whose flesh - sinless breath cherub,
Whose gaze I put on the garments of light!
Always: in the darkness of night, cold and cheerless,
On a crowded street, in broad daylight,
Me slip, trembling your cute appearance,
Like a torch, woven from pure fire:
- Dedicated Beauty soul, in my love;
I will be thy muzoyu and Madonna!
COTE
As the room is simple, in my mind with careless
And easy grace all wonderful cat wanders;
He sad song just heard singing;
His meow and softly and gently.
His purr something distinctly heard,
Then the remote, quieter, less;
That voice sounds deep rich
And he secretly ruled over the soul mine.
He is in the bowels of the mysterious black penetrated,
Hung network streams, like drops, Upadana;
To him, as to zeliyu, I pressed his mouth,
How sonorous verse, he fills his chest.
My suffering he has the power to subdue,
He was given to light the blessed ecstasies,
And there is no need him to speak with the heart,
Aimless word term in empty phrases.
Then a voice sweeter melodious bow,
And he solemnly than sonorous strings quivering;
He pierces the chest to me, like a sweet melancholy,
Unattainable jet charm.
Oh wonderful, strange cat! who is your voice at least once
And your mysterious tune ever hear,
He descends into it as the voice of a seraph,
Where are all the subtle harmony of breathing.
Owls
Where yews trail harsh darkness,
As idols for next series
Staring into the dusk red eyes,
Sit and ponder owl.
They are so motionless
Sit and wait for the hour dull,
When the rise unabated
And the sun will overturn the darkness.
Their posture - wise NOTES
Despise the movement forever:
Always suffer punishment
In Love in the shadow man
Hardly by of confusion,
He will speak at the moment, out of the shadows!
LIVING TORCH
Two brothers unearthly, two miraculous eyes
Always in front of me. Skillful seraph
Their fusion of fire, a magnet and a diamond
To seeing the light in the darkness, I followed him.
Two torch alive! Of their obedience,
These gentle servant of servants, now will not leave you ...
Bypassing the trap and a stumbling block,
They lead you dear Beauty.
Their light neugasim, although barely flicker,
As the sun, lamps at the altar,
But those broadcast grief, and these glorify
Death is not the darkness of night - born at the dawn
So let never goes out your strength,
Sunrise lights kindled my soul!
SPIRITUAL Zarya
Only glyanet face dawn and pink and white
And strict ideal, as sad, pure dream,
Go down to the crowd of people, in the obdurate debauchery -
In cattle satiated immediately the angel awakened.
And the souls of the fallen, whose grief is blessed,
Again close to the distant heavens,
The deep azure passionate instantly;
Is not that right, pure goddess descends to us
At that time, when there remains chadyat orgies,
Your image is woven from pink rays?
Eyes widened in delight prayer;
As the sun bright face of grim lights candles
So you, my soul, overthrowing look pale,
Suddenly bleschesh again as immortal light, vsepobedny.
TALK
You are all - like pink autumn sky!
In me is growing again sadness, the shaft tide
And recedes again, like the sea, silent,
And bitter foam again I hurt.
- Your hand slides into the arms of the barren,
To my chest trying to cling desecrated;
Women claws dug up my chest,
And my heart devoured by hungry beasts crowd.
Palace of my soul shamelessly desecrated;
Blasphemy, orgy and death - on all sides -
Flowing round the neck nude flavor!
In it, the beauty of thy scourge, your call and your law!
Sparkling same bright eyes, my dear,
Beasts unnecessary dust on fire burning!
BOTTLE
There are smells, whose power over us is infinite:
In any substance eats forever.
It happens that, outlandish open casket
(Rusty lock stop and vizgliv)
Or somewhere in the corner, broad attic junk
Compacted dust we find ugly
Bottle of perfume: it is dim and empty and dry,
But the memory of it alive, alive the spirit flown away.
Past dreams, enthusiasm and resentment,
Dreams faded - blind chrysalis,
From the musty darkness, how would gain strength,
Vyprastyvayut sudden splendor of the wing.
In azure, gold, scarlet robes
We head was spinning, floating memories ...
And now the soul, captured,
Over the abyss of the slope and gets up from his knees.
Originating from the veil as the resurrected Lazarus,
There's a shadow of love buried alive,
Adorable ghost, dust, flowing fragrance
Out of the pit, where now - rot and decay.
When me and forgetting human
Shove in an old cupboard careless hand,
I'll stay if cracked, dusty,
Miserable, no one ought to bottle
Tomb of yours, Plague, evil potion
Yad created in Paradise, my soul fun
Burning inside the molten lead,
Oh, my heart beginning and the end!
HARMONY NIGHTS
Already evening. All flowering plants,
Incense smoke, drop flavor;
The sound of the sound of the air fly;
Sad and languid waltz whirling!
As the smoke incense, fragrance flows;
And moaning violin as a soul in torment;
Sad and languid waltz whirling!
And the heavens like altars burn.
And groans dusk, as the soul in torment,
Ispivshaya vanities deadly poison;
And the heavens like altars burn.
Daylight flushed for a moment.
Earthly vanities drinking a deadly poison,
Last soul sbiralsya links.
Daylight flushed for a moment.
And, as a chalice, dream about it shine ...
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire