ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Sunday evening sunset viewed through the window
I am his namesake, but there is another beside him
There is love but it is stilted, conformed to a foreign paradigm
One that poisons me though, in desperation, in youthful trust and hope
I tried to drink that cup, and when offered more, I refused
It was my agony, in a port wine reduction, till it gleamed like ebony
Outside, the summer lawns reclined in their glory
Amplified in the dusky shadows, dignified, stately, ambassadorial
And I stood there in the anteroom, looking at what I could not hold
I cannot inhabit their songs, I realized then,
For they withered away long ago
I am his namesake, but there is another beside him
There is love but it is stilted, conformed to a foreign paradigm
One that poisons me though, in desperation, in youthful trust and hope
I tried to drink that cup, and when offered more, I refused
It was my agony, in a port wine reduction, till it gleamed like ebony
Outside, the summer lawns reclined in their glory
Amplified in the dusky shadows, dignified, stately, ambassadorial
And I stood there in the anteroom, looking at what I could not hold
I cannot inhabit their songs, I realized then,
For they withered away long ago
Here is an explanation of this Russian word:
"Vladmir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
~Source: listverse.com/2011/06/17/anoth…
I subscribe to the higher grades of "toska" in this instance.
This piece is inspired by personal realities I have endured.
Inspired by this song, which premiered in that time period: "Giving You The Best That I've Got" by Anita Baker www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2Hj9O…;
"I remember listening to that song as I stood in that room, on more than one occasion, and it haunts me..."
"Vladmir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
~Source: listverse.com/2011/06/17/anoth…
I subscribe to the higher grades of "toska" in this instance.
This piece is inspired by personal realities I have endured.
Inspired by this song, which premiered in that time period: "Giving You The Best That I've Got" by Anita Baker www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2Hj9O…;
"I remember listening to that song as I stood in that room, on more than one occasion, and it haunts me..."
© 2015 - 2024 Blacksand459
Comments8
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
This piece reminds me of another word, somewhat similar, which cannot be fully translated into English: saudade. It means kind of the same thing, but again, loses something in translation. Saudade is also a kind of longing. Intense, indescribable, sad. (You have Nuno Bettencourt to thank for this rambling comment.)