Friday 19 July 2013

Vienna in Summer
Meadows and Larks ascending

Into the Vienna Woods
View of Vienna's 14th District
from "Roter Berg" in the 13th District

Roter Berg
Meadows and Woods
13th District

Community Gardens
Roter Berg

Bike at Rest
Roter Berg

One of my favourite spots of Roter Berg:
Over these meadows, if you are lucky,
you can observe a good dozen of larks rising
and listen to their song - it's mesmerising

The Lark Ascending
Tone poem by Ralph Vaughan Williams
"At sight of sun, her music's mirth,
As up he wings the spiral stair,
A song of light, and pierces air 
With fountain ardour, fountain play,
To reach the shining tops of day,
And drink in everything discerned
An ecstasy to music turned,
Impelled by what his happy bill 
Disperses; drinking, showering still, 
Unthinking save that he may give 
His voice the outlet, there to live 
Renewed in endless notes of glee, 
So thirsty of his voice is he, 
For all to hear and all to know 
That he is joy, awake, aglow; 
The tumult of the heart to hear 
Through pureness filtered crystal-clear, 
And know the pleasure sprinkled bright 
By simple singing of delight ..." 
 Quoted from "The Lark Ascending" 
by George Meredith


  1. Wonderful shots from ever inviting fields.

    1. Thank you, and the meadows and fields up there are ever inviting, indeed! :-)

  2. Beautiful captures, lovely skies and the poem by George Meredith is perfect!! I love it! Thanks for sharing the beauty, Merisi, as always! Hope you have a wonderful weekend!!

    1. Thank you, Sylvia,
      and thanks from the bottom of my heart that you are so kind to comment when I am away and/or can't find to visit you as much as I would like to!

  3. Lovely scenes and images. The views are beautiful and I love the field of sunflowers! Have a happy weekend!

    1. Thank you, and a wonderful summer weekend to you, too!

  4. Love the sunflowers and the shot with the bicycle particularly, but all are great photos.

    1. I love my bike, a super deal at €30, imagine! ;-)

  5. Merisi, do you know Percy Bisshey Shelley's "Ode to a Skylark"? I absolutely love it.

    1. Thank you, Arija!
      I looked it up and, yes, it is so herzergreifend schön,
      thank you for reminding me!

      Ode to a Skylark
      by Percy Bysshe Shelley

      Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
      Bird thou never wert -
      That from Heaven or near it
      Pourest thy full heart
      In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

      Higher still and higher
      From the earth thou springest,
      Like a cloud of fire;
      The blue deep thou wingest,
      And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

      In the golden lightning
      Of the sunken sun,
      O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
      Thou dost float and run,
      Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

      The pale purple even
      Melts around thy flight;
      Like a star of Heaven,
      In the broad daylight
      Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight -

      Keen as are the arrows
      Of that silver sphere
      Whose intense lamp narrows
      In the white dawn clear,
      Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.

      All the earth and air
      With thy voice is loud,
      As, when night is bare,
      From one lonely cloud
      The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.

    2. What thou art we know not;
      What is most like thee?
      From rainbow clouds there flow not
      Drops so bright to see,
      As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: -

      Like a Poet hidden
      In the light of thought,
      Singing hymns unbidden,
      Till the world is wrought
      To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:

      Like a high-born maiden
      In a palace-tower,
      Soothing her love-laden
      Soul in secret hour
      With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:

      Like a glow-worm golden
      In a dell of dew,
      Scattering unbeholden
      Its aërial hue
      Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view:

      Like a rose embowered
      In its own green leaves,
      By warm winds deflowered,
      Till the scent it gives
      Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingéd thieves:

      Sound of vernal showers
      On the twinkling grass,
      Rain-awakened flowers -
      All that ever was
      Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass.

      Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
      What sweet thoughts are thine:
      I have never heard
      Praise of love or wine
      That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

      Chorus hymeneal,
      Or triumphal chant,
      Matched with thine would be all
      but an empty vaunt -
      A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

      What objects are the fountains
      Of thy happy strain?
      What fields, or waves, or mountains?
      What shapes of sky or plain?
      What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?

      With thy clear keen joyance
      Languor cannot be:
      Shadow of annoyance
      Never came near thee:
      Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.

      Waking or asleep,
      Thou of death must deem
      Things more true and deep
      Than we mortals dream,
      Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

      We look before and after,
      And pine for what is not:
      Our sincerest laughter
      With some pain is fraught;
      Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

      Yet, if we could scorn
      Hate and pride and fear,
      If we were things born
      Not to shed a tear,
      I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

      Better than all measures
      Of delightful sound,
      Better than all treasures
      That in books are found,
      Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

      Teach me half the gladness
      That thy brain must know;
      Such harmonious madness
      From my lips would flow,
      The world should listen then, as I am listening now.

  6. Dash it, I misspelled Bysshe!

  7. Danke, besonders für die schöne Musik dazu :-)
    Liebe Grüsze

  8. ach wie schön! der rote berg hat mir bis jetzt gar nichts gesagt. schade, dass er auf der anderen seite von wien ist. sonst würde mein rad dort auch gerne mal rast machen..
    liebe grüße, maje

    1. Hallo! :-)
      Geht ganz leicht, U4 bis Ober St. Veit, Rad mitnehmen, 10 Minuten radeln.
      Ist wirklich wunderschön, gibt sogar zwei Gasthäuser dort oben, die Wildsau und noch eines, bei der Gemeindewiese.

  9. A beautiful summery treat!
    Yes, Shelley's poem is an all time favorite!

    1. The best thing about is I can go there whenever time allows! ;-)
      Will take you there during your next visit to Vienna,
      bigggg hug,
      M. xxx

  10. I just love that bike picture. The colors are so great. Makes me want to get on my bike and have a picnic somewhere. BTW I live in MA. on the north shore of Boston. I just liked the term cornbread crumbles...sometimes I go by a gathering of days also.

  11. Now there is my idea of a good time

  12. Eine Radlerin? Wenn ich den Rad sehe, das interessiert mich sehr :-)
    Alle meine Blogs findest du in meinem Profil Google+.
    Schöne Grüsse nach Wien, Daniela

  13. Listening to the music, taking in the poetry and your wonderful images brings tranquility this morning. How lovely to be able to bike to the meadows. Love the sunflowers, too!

  14. The sky looms enormous over the fields. You've painted a lovely picture of Vienna today.

  15. The music was perfect! What beautiful summer images. I can almost breathe the fresh air! Love the puppy dog running along and the light on the sunflowers ... What a lovely spot!


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