Ferello Frequency

Ferello Frequency
  • ٠٫٠ (٠)
  • كتب

The Ferello Frequency is a podcast for those who wish to indulge in some beautiful words.

الحلقات

  1. The Oak

    ١٩‏/٠٢‏/٢٠٢٢

    The Oak

    Live thy Life,Young and old,Like yon oak,Bright in spring,Living gold; Summer-richThen; and thenAutumn-changedSoberer-huedGold again. All his leavesFall’n at length,Look, he stands,Trunk and boughNaked strength.

    ١ د

  2. ٢٩‏/٠٥‏/٢٠٢١

    January 10 1846

    Do you know, when you have told me to think of you, I have been feeling ashamed of thinking of you so much, of thinking of only you – which is too much, perhaps. Shall I tell you? It seems to me, to myself, that no man was ever before to any woman what you are to me – the fulness must be in the proportion, you know, to the vacancy… and only I know what was behind – the long wilderness without the blossoming rose… and the capacity for happiness, like a black gaping hole, before this silver flooding. It is wonderful that I should stand as in a dream, and disbelieve – not you – but my own fate? Was ever any one taken suddenly from a lampless dungeon and placed upon the pinnacle of a mountain, without the head turning and the heart faint, as mine do? And you love me more, you say? Shall I thank you or God? Both – indeed – and there is no possible return from me to either of you! I thank you as the unworthy may… and as we all thank God. How shall I ever prove what my heart is to you? How will you ever see it as I feel it? I ask myself in vain.Have so much faith in me, my only beloved, as to use me simply for your own advantage and happiness, and to your own ends without a thought of any others – that is all I could ask you without any disquiet as to the granting of it. May God bless you! Your B.A.

    ٣ د
  3. A letter to Elizabeth

    ٢٢‏/٠٥‏/٢٠٢١

    A letter to Elizabeth

    To Elizabeth Barret Browning: …would I, fi I could, supplant one of any of the affections that I know to have taken root in you – that great and solemn one, for instance. I feel that if I could get myself remade, as if turned to gold, I WOULD not even then desire to become more than the mere setting to that diamond you must always wear. The regard and esteem you now give me, in this letter, and which I press to my heart and bow my head upon, is all I can take and all too embarrassing, using all my gratitude.

    ١ د
  4. October 2 1911

    ١٥‏/٠٥‏/٢٠٢١

    October 2 1911

    I have a thousand images of you in an hour; all different and all coming back to the same… And we love. And we’ve got the most amazing secrets and understandings. Noel, whom I love, who is so beautiful and wonderful. I think of you eating omlette on the ground. I think of you once against a sky line; and on the hill that Sunday morning. And that night was wonderfullest of all. The light and the shadow and quietness and the rain and the wood. And you. You are so beautiful and wonder that I daren’t write to you… And kinder than God. Yours arms and lips and hair and shoulders and voice – you.

    ١ د
  5. Napoleon Bonaparte Paris 1797

    ٠٨‏/٠٥‏/٢٠٢١

    Napoleon Bonaparte Paris 1797

    To Josepine, I love you no longer; on the contrary, I detest you. You are a wretch, truly perverse, truly stupid, a real Cinderella. You never write to me at all, you do not love your husband; you know the pleasure that your letters give him yet you cannot even manage to write him half a dozen lines, dashed off in a moment! What then do you do all day, Madame? What business is so vital that it robs you of the time to write to your faithful lover? What attachment can be stifling and pushing aside the love, the tender and constant love which you promised? Who can this wonderful new love be who takes your every moment, rules your days and prevents you from devoting your attention your husband? Beware, Josephine; one fine night the doors will be broken down and there I shall be. In truth, I am worried, my love, to have no news from you; write me a four page letter instantly made up from those delightful words which fill my heart with emotion and joy. I hope to hold you in my arms before long, when I shall lavish upon you a million kisses, burning as the equatorial sun.

    **ASE.Web.Podcasts.Duration.Minute.two**

  6. ٠٢‏/٠٥‏/٢٠٢١

    1000

    Slipping onto my chairMy head running at a 1000oCThe music abstract and liberated,The only one that can understand, can help filter Carving the loneliness,My heart injected with 1000mg of mistrust,Injected with die-hard desire for perfectionInjected with the little tiny thoughts of someone’s else happy ending I look out, seeing the swans hint their way closerI feel spilt a thousand ways,No easy route or defined pictureWashed with emotions, full control and no desire to create pain Weaving and turning aches, avoiding confrontation is near the task of a god Every step, the common sunshine and snake’s poisonEvery time, the mind notes and endures more heat By Halmat Ferello © 2005

    ١ د
  7. Paris, December 1795

    ٢٤‏/٠٤‏/٢٠٢١

    Paris, December 1795

    I wake filled with thoughts of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have left my senses in turmoil. Sweet, incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect you have on my heart! Are you angry? Do I see you looking sad? Are you worried? My soul aches with sorrow, and there can be no rest for you lover; but is there still more in store for me when, yielding to the profound feeling which overwhelm me, I draw from your lips, from your heart a love which consumes me with fire? Ah! it was last night that I fully realised how false an image of you your portrait gives! You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours. Until then, mio dolce amore, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire. By Napoleon Bonaparte

    ٣ د

  8. ١٧‏/٠٤‏/٢٠٢١

    6th December 2016 – The Road to Knowhere

    When the lights are out. Completely out. Your soul is all I feel. The completeness of our bodies. You finish me. I finish you. We make up the sum of one as we lay in bed and I feel your warm and your gentle breath on my chest. The essence of your soul melts into me. Those lights – those words – those actions. All a figment of a fraction that is a millimetre of what your soul feels like.

    ١ د
  9. Venice October 18, 1503

    ١٠‏/٠٤‏/٢٠٢١

    Venice October 18, 1503

    Eight days have passed since I parted from f.f., and already it is as though I had been eight years away from her, although I can avow that not one hour has passed without her memory which has become such a close companion to my thoughts that now more than ever is it the food and sustenance of my soul; and if it should endure like this a few days more, as seems it must, I truly believe it will in every way have assumed the office of my soul, and I shall then live and thrive on the memory of her as do other men upon their souls, and I shall have no life but in this single thought. Let the God who so decrees do as he will, so long as in exchange I may have as much a part of her as shall suffice to prove the gospel of our affinity is founded on true prophecy. Often I find myself recalling, and with what ease, certain words spoken to me, some on the balcony with the moon as witness, others at that window I shall always look upon so gladly, with all the many endearing and gracious acts I have seen my gentle lady perform–for all are dancing about my heart with a tenderness so wondrous that they inflame me with a strong desire to beg her to test the quality of my love. For I shall never rest content until I am certain she knows what she is able to enact in me and how great and strong is the fire that her great worth has kindled in my breast. The flame of true love is a mighty force, and most of all when two equally matched wills in two exalted minds contend to see which loves the most, each striving to give yet more vital proof… It would be the great delight for me to see just two lines in f.f.’s hand, yet I dare not ask so much. May your Ladyship beseech her to perform whatever you feel is best for me. With my heart I kiss your Ladyship’s hand, since I can not with my lips. By Pietro Bembo

    ٣ د

  10. ٠٣‏/٠٤‏/٢٠٢١

    8th September 2016 – The Road to Knowhere

    Nothing amounts to God’s brush strokes, creating the masterpiece that lays in front of me, and while I look into your eyes, I see the beauty of infinity. Your smile lights up the darkest of moments and fills it with unbelievable sunshine that soaks straight into soul, deep into the very core of the very essence. I’ve been waiting for you since the beginning of time when our atoms were forming from the same star dust. And connected to each other for the last 13 billion years as our souls held hands while travelling through space, that feeling, it comes back every time I look into your eyes.

    ١ د
  • ١٠ حلقة

حول

The Ferello Frequency is a podcast for those who wish to indulge in some beautiful words.

المعلومات

  • صناع العمل
    Ferello Frequency
  • سنوات النشاط
    ٢٠٢٠ - ٢٠٢٢
  • الحلقات
    ١٠
  • التقييم
    ملائم
  • موقع البرنامج على الويب
    Ferello Frequency