Today’s poem: what’s beauty

And we are at it again. The love and promotion of something has been important for milleniums: Reading. And this time about beauty, expressed by Lord Byron, what he (probably) saw as beauty.

Beauty is impossible to define, even though every age tried, more recently Hollywood had countless (awful and failed) attempts to do so, when it came to humans, but just can’t. Isn’t it and should be something different for all of us?!

And even outside the scope of human appearance. A moment in a day, a gesture, a look, a music piece, or, like for me in the case of my favorites, like below, a nice read:


She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

George Gordon Byron
Lord Byron (1788-1824)


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