(SR) LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
Acorn – immortality
Acynthus – artistic
Aloe – grief
Ambrosia – love returned
Amethyst – admiration
Angelica – inspiration
Angrec – finer arts
Apple – temptation
Ash Tree – grandeur
Asphodel – my regrets follow you to the grave
Basil – hatred
Bay Rose – beware
Bay Wreath – record of merit
Begonia – dark thoughts
Belladonna – silence
Black Bryony – be my support
Bluebell – humility
Broken Straw – a broken contract
Burnet – merry heart
Butterfly Weeds – let me go
Cammomile – energy in adversity
Carnation, red – alas for my poor heart
Candytuft – indifference
Carnation, striped – refusal
Cedar Leaf – I live for thee
Celandine – joys to come
Centauria – felicity
Cherry Blossom – good education
Clematis – mental beauty
Cobea – gossip
Convolvulus – a bond
Cornflower – refinement
Cornpoppy – consolation
Crocus, saffron – mirth
Crocus, spring -youthful gladness
Cudwed – never ceasing remembrance
Daisy, marguerite – a token
Daisy, mountain – innocence
Daisy, wylde – I share your feelings
Eglantine – poetry
Eidelweiss – noble courage
Feverfew – protection
Fig – argument
Four Leaf Clover – be mine
Forget-Me-Not – true love
Forsythia – anticipation
Fresia – trust
Furze – enduring affection
Garlic – strength
Gentle balm – pleasantry
Guelder Rose – old age
Helenium – tears
Hollyshock – ambition
Honey Flower – love sweet & secret
Imperial Lily – majesty
Indian Cress – warlike trophy
Ipomaca – I attach myself to you
Iris – eloquence
Judas Tree – betrayal
Justicia – perfection of female beauty
Laurel – ambition
Lilac, white – youthful innocence
Lily-of-the Valley – return of happiness
Linnea – I wish we were together
Locust Tree – affection beyond the grave
Magnolia – love of nature
Meadow Saffron – grown old
Monkshood – Beware a deadly foe is near
Michaelmas Daisy – farewell
Milkwort – hermitage
Mint – virtue
Myrtle – disciline
Oleander – Take caution
Orange Blossoms – bridal festivities
Orchis – a belle
Pansy – a thought
Pea – an appointed meeting
Peach Blossom – I am your captive
Poppy – eternal sleep
Purple Columbine – resolve to win
Purple Lilac – first emotions of love
Red Catchfly – youthful love
Rose, black – death
Rose, blue – mystery
Rose, light-pink – sympathy
Rose, red – love
Rose, silver – sonnetry
Rue – disdain
Stephanotis – desire to travel
Sweet Basil – good wishes
Syringa – memory
Thistle – austerity
Thyme – activity
Tulip, red – declaration of love
Tulip, variegated – beautiful eyes
Tulip, yellow – hopelessness
Veronica – fidelity
Violets, blue – faithfulness
Weeping Willow – grief
Windflower Anemone – foresaken
Wylde Tansy – I declare war against you
Zephyr Flowers – expectation
Aglio – forza
Agrifolgio Scossa – ambizione
Ametista – ammirazione
Angreco – belle arti
Aquilegia Viola – risoluzione vincere
Chamomile – energia contro avversita
Cilegio – buon educazione
Clematis – mentale bellaza
Corona d’Allora – ricordo di merito
Dolce Basilico – cordiali saluti
Garofano Righe – rifiuto
Giglio Imperiale – maesta
Indiano Crescione – guerriero trofeo
Menta – virtu
Orchidea – belleza
Zeffi Fiore – aspettativa
National Flowers
Bangladesh – White Water Lily
Sicily- Carnation
Cyprus – Rose
Denmark – Marguerite Daisy
Egypt – Egyptian Lotus
England – Rose
Estonia – Cornflower
Finland – Lily-of-the-Valley
France – Iris
Germany – Centauria
Greece – Bear’s Breech
Holland – Tulip
India – Banyan Tree
Indonesia – Pink Moth Orchid
Italy – Poppy
Latvia – Wilde daisy
Lithania – Rue
Maldives – Rose
Norway – Purple Heather
Poland – Cornpoppy
Portugal – Lavender
Russia – Cammomile
Scotland – Thistle
Sri Lanka – Nil Manel
Sweden – Linnea
Thailand – Rachapruek
THE CATS OF CALCATA
Being an account of two cats of Calcata who communicate upon a romantic level by using the secret Language of the Flowers. Upon falling in love as kittens, then getting married, their tranquility is disturbed by the arrival of a young, handsome tom from the nearby town of Falaria. The Wife becomes completely enamored of him, begins an affair & seeks a divorce. Her husband challengers the tom to a duel, but is left second bested & bleeding. His wife sees this & realizes her true love for her husband – but it is too late, for in a fit of jealousy the husband murders her. He instantly shows the greatest remorse, burying his wife at the spot where she died…
Lazing through days of Italy,
O life of lovely hours!
The soft wine & festivity,
The sunshine & tranquility
Where Street Cats speak, eloquently,
The Language of the Flowers.
There is a place where you must go
To hear the street-cat patter;
Where sweet Rondini swoop & show,
The river glistens far below
A maze of streets, then you will know
The magic of Calcata.
Upon a soft & starry night
Two kittens kiss’d all hazy;
They pluck’d two Lilacs flushing bright,
Purple for her, for him pure White,
Love blossoming from first sweet sight,
Fresh as a Mountain Daisy.
Young lovers grew, through every scene
The cute Red Catchfly carried;
Where Spring Crocuses grow serene
& Orange Blossoms speckle green,
Amidst the gentle Celandine
They were forever married!
Home was a mountain theatre
Sunshine rises to mild purrs –
Each day they found Veronica,
Blue Violets & Ambrosia,
For to bind them all together
On a bed of felted Furze.
Then from Falaria there came
The cat with eyes a-dapple;
In her heart grew the strangest flame
Burning so brightly, to her shame,
With Amethyst he won her name
& left for her an Apple.
They dallied by the old river
Where grow the Four-Leaf Clovers;
He plucked the wylde Justicia
This, with Peach Blossom, gave to her,
By the brightest Honey Flower
Became, they, tender lovers.
The husband woke that cloudy night,
Went out all wrack’d with worry;
Grew frantic thro’ the gloomy light,
‘Til shone the moon full beaming bright,
No man should suffer such a sight
Underneath the Judas Tree.
Biting a fig between his teeth,
Clutching a Red Carnation;
He gave to her the Cedar Leaf,
But she, to his own disbelief,
Wraps Butterfly Weeds in a wreath
& bids for separation.
The husband’s wounded heart wants war,
Throws down the cruel Wylde Tansy;
The piazza, as was the law,
Saw scratch & screech & bite & claw –
As lost he left, limping by paw,
From heaven fell a Pansy.
To see her first love lose the fray,
By an arrow her heart shot!
She found a fresh straw from the hay,
A dozen Red Tulips at play,
Wove them into a lush bouquet
With a fresh Forget-Me-Not.
Pressing Basil into a wound,
Chewing fresh Begonia;
He stood up with a hissing sound,
Sore paws the pretty rooftops pound,
Upon a wall his sweetheart found
& push’d her to the murder!
Distraught, he dash’d to where she fell,
& wept for the tragedy,
He kiss’d & kiss’d the spirit’s shell,
He cloak’d ith Cudweed, as tears swell,
He placed a little Asphodel
‘Neath the sea-green Locust Tree.
So, if you ever take the care
To visit fair Calcata,
Go to the walls the street cats share
& pause a while to look down there,
Where you should see, come really stare,
A grave Red Roses flatter.
LA PRINCIPESSA DEL FALCO
Si tratta del resoconto di una gara in cui i principi di cinque paesi tentano di conquistare l’affetto della principessa con i falchi del re di Sicilia. Il torneo si tiene sul Monte Falcano, che domina l’isola di Marettimo, e uno a uno vengono sbaragliati, prima attraverso la loro personalità, poi la velocità, poi l’abilità nella caccia. Infine, il duello tra i principi di Portogallo e Cipro, in cui il falcone portoghese trionfa, vince la principessa e pianta il suo fiore nazionale sull’isola per i posteri – o come la lavanda arrivò sull’isola di Marettimo
C’e una isola che devi conoscere
Di sole e mare e acquazzoni
Chiamata meravigliosa Marettimo
Dove Homer ha meditato molto tempo fa
E tutte le creature di Dio conoscono
La Lingua dei Fiori
Su quest’isola vive un Re,
Signore dei falconi di Sicilia
La rose d’inverno ricresce ogni primavera
Ha all’interno il suo trono, in un anello,
Pero le aquile hanno ancora paura delle sue ali
Dall’Antartide al mar Baltico
Piu bella davvero di un’Orchidea
Cresciuta come figlia adorata
Quando ha colto blu Clematis
Il Re ha mandato messageri alle montagne
Ai principi reali dei falcone
Invitandoli a corte.
Un bel principe evolato per proporsi
Trasportando un arcobaleno Iris
Poi un altro ha portato la Rosa,
Un altro ha la Lavanda nel suo artiglio
Un altro regala Fondo di Orso
L’ultimo porge Loto d’Egiziano.
Hanno baciato la prinicpessa con un bacetto
E’ l’hanno ricoperta d`ammirazione
Uno con Menta, uno con Angreco,
Uno con Cilegio, uno con Aglio,
Pero’ poi uno con l’Agrifolgio-Scossa
Ha gettato un Garofano-Righe
Il Re ha annunciato un torneo
In mezzo ai fiori di montagna
Le capre hanno squattrinato il loro governo
Gli Asini hanno affrontato la ripida salita,
I gabbiani hanno strillato il loro consenso
E sparso Zeffi-Fiore
La folla si e’ radunata sul versante
Sopra il mare che nuota nello spazio
I principi si e liberato in volo sulla corda
Il Re ha aperto il suo telescopio
Sono stati salvati da una nave
Poi si sono sistemati ad osservare la gara.
Quatro falconi volano come fulmini
Dalle nuvole alla bassa nebbia del mar
Toccano l’albero del ghiozzo
Oltrepassano il Giglio Imperiale e ritorno
La pricipessa saluta! poi all’ultimo
da l’Ametista dai vivaci colori.
Tre principi hanno cacciato per tutto il giorno
Scendono in picchiata con il cacciato
Ognuno riempie un piatto d’argento
Quando il sole ha spirato l’ultimo raggio
La principessa dona al peggior cacciatore
Un piccolo mazzetto di Dolce Basilico
Il Re annuncia che era tempo di pranzare
Messa la cacciagione in un tinello
La lavano con vino che il Re ha salvato
Tutti e due I finalisti hanno trovato un segno
Uno ha colto l’Aquilegia Viola
E l’altro, il suo rivale, Chamomilla.
Due falconi affrontano l’ultima baruffa
Dal Portogallo e da Cipro
L’oscurita della sera consuma il giorno
Asini ragliano alla luna
La principessa trema dal freddo
Avvolta da un caldo Indiano Crescione
I due principi che hanno lottato nel cielo
Colpendosi con le ali e il becco con fiero aspetto
Si bloccanno e cadono dall’alto
Uno va ad urtare l’acqua,
Rirtorna a ricevere, con un sospiro,
La Corona d’Alloro intorno al suo collo
Il principe di Portogallo ha vinto
Il Garofano della sua principessa
In regola con le leggi della falconeria
Il Re ha abbracciato il suo futuro figlio
Qui ha piantato il suo fiore
Che si mescola con la vegetazione
Cosi, se avrai il tempo
Di visitare Monte Falcone
Azzardando un po’ di alpinismo
Fra mare e Sicilia sublime
Potrai vedere che con la rima dei poeti
Cresce la lussureggiante Lavanda.
THE CASTLE OF TRANQUEBAR
Being an account of a the great Tsu-na-mi that shook the south-eastern portions of the globe at the start of the twenty-first century. The scene is the old Danish colony of Tranquebar, in the land of the Indian Tamils, in which place a castle is used as protection against those infernal waves. The leading protaganist of the tale is a brightly intelligent parrot, who leads the animals of the locality to safety.
If you should ever deck a mast
& tack for the eastern star,
There is a place to take repast,
Besides the ocean’s vista vast,
Stood tough enough for any blast,
The Castle of Tranquebar.
Our story starts not long ago,
The Ocean growning angry,
& conjuring a global show,
She struck the land a mortal blow,
Being the wave we all now know
O terrible Tsu-Na-Mi!
That mighty rush, ten meters tall,
Struck in the early morning,
The lush Thai beaches first to fall,
Where whales watch’d on with dire appall,
& join’d their chorus in a call
& gave the world a warning.
The music of that newsy throng
More beautiful than Handel;
For many leagues it flew along,
Few understood its ancient tongue,
But one seabird had heard their song
Sung by the Coromandel.
She was a parrot, blue & green,
There was no parrot smarter;
A hundred summers had she seen,
& knew this day could only mean
Waves furious, for she had been
A witness at Sumatra.
She knew of misty tidal wave
& old Poseidon’s powers,
So flew to land so she could save
Her fellow creatures from the grave,
Her only tool that voice God gave,
‘The Language of the Flowers.’
The parrot pluck’d from out the ground
Lush Monkshood & Bay Roses,
As Oleander then was found
He spread its petals wide around,
As closer drew the awful sound
Of thunder as it closes.
All in a jungle’s clattering
The animals did scatter,
The monkey’s gan their chattering,
Thepilets pitter-pattering,
As sun-idylls were shattering
Whatever was the matter?
From greening glades to village street
Th’unpanicking parrot flew,
Cool-headed, truly, in the heat,
Trailing Forsythia from feet,
He made his warning-call complete
With feather-white Feverfew.
As animals form Noahan crowd
The elephants huff’d & puff’d,
The cattle battl’d on unbow’d,
With cats & dogs & donkeys loud,
But peacocks acted very proud,
Bedding down in Candytuft.
Our hero reach’d that grand fortress
Beside Thangarambadi,
All pass’d beneath the portcullis
Into the courtyard’s thick-sloped bliss,
& wonder’d what this trouble is
Affecting everybody.
A blast! An earthquake’s aftershock,
As shorewards Tsunami rips,
It lifting tough ships onto rocks,
Freezing forever human clocks,
Blew murdering thro’ proud peacocks
Hid in the Yellow Tulips.
As round the walls an ocean flows,
All the beast dared not to breathe,
As waters fall where waters rose,
Aft’ rounds of spontaneous applause,
Daffodils, Eidelweiss & Furze
Woven neatly to a wreath.
Those flowers tied to parrot’s wing
Happy gratitude flew far,
If life to Tamil coasts ye bring,
Listen to how the monkeys sing,
Of sweet deliverance, praising
The Castle of Tranquebar.
THE ASIAN WREATH
Being an account of the death of the King of the Falcons, consumed with grief upon hearing of the Asian Tsunami. His heir, the Falcon Prince, gathers a number of flowers & sets off for Asia, where in exchange for his own flowers he obtains the national flowers of several countries. He then returns to Sicily & wraps the dead king in the wreath, before dropping the body into the flames of Mount Aetna.
There is a tayle that I must tell,
Tho’ men be disbelieving,
Of when the King of Falcons fell
Into the flamey fields of hell
& in that moment broke a spell
Of misery & grieving.
My tayle begins beneath the sea,
Angry has grown Poseidon,
For poisonous Humanity
Pollutes his kingdom carelessly,
& so he sends the Tsu-Na-Mi
Cantering ‘cross the ocean.
The news brought to Marettimo
& a king sick with disease;
At such sad tidings wept him so,
This news was such a mortal blow,
Once mighty breath began to slow,
Giving out a dying wheeze.
As is the way of ancyent laws
The crown prince of the Falcons
Took up six flowers in his claws,
Transports them to the tragic cause
Of all his weepings & his woes,
Flew far beyond the Balkans.
He drove above the dusty lands
Where God’s flowers rarely grow,
Ranging beyond those desert sands
That change to Ocean’s rippling bands,
Saw clusterings of small islands
In the waters far below.
Mid Maldive pearls, where palm trees grew
To the monkey’s chattering,
Dropt was the beautiful Aloe
Of yellow hue & herbal dew,
In recompense the Falcon drew
A Rose to tie to his wing.
Sri Lanka loom’d, our Falcon fell
For the mountain-scented tea,
Where lions charm’d him with a spell
Of sunny-centred Nil Manel,
He swapp’d one for an Asphodel
Afore soaring ocean free.
He flew the length of India
Where the weird wild banyon grows,
There met the Peacock Emperor
Whom, after tea, flew together,
Our Falcon pluck’d a tail-feather
& won him a Light-Pink Rose.
To Bangladesh he next did come
& the Gangeatic mouth,
Near tygers hid from hunter’s drum
White Water Lilies, quite a sum,
The Falcon dropp’d Helenium,
Pluck’d Sepal & reer’d on south.
He came to Thailand’s golden sand
Where the Rachapruek grows,
Whose pendulous racemes act grand,
For on them elephants won’t stand
But brave are falcons &, as plann’d,
Barter’d was a wild Black Rose.
He flew at last to Borneo
With a Poppy in his claws,
Where Moth Orchids quite pinkly grow,
Guarded by Dragons Komodo,
But opiates all Beasts do slow,
Soon the jungle shook with snores.
The Prince he pluck’d an Orchid free,
His wreath was wound completed;
So on he flew high westerly
Across the sea to Sicily,
Where on an ancient chestnut tree
A thousand falcons seated.
They flew in funerary lines,
Up to Aetna’s steaming rim,
At sunset when the psyche shines
The king dropt in these molten mines,
Wrapt in a wreath, Prince screech’d oer pines
Til that sad, sore day grew dim.
So, if you visit Sicily,
See where Mount Aetna towers,
Think of great Asia’s Tsu-Na-Mi
& how her emblems came to be
Bound in a wreath of poignancy,
For Falcons speak with Flowers.
Mumble Words 