#embossing

🇬🇧 "Maiden from Frankfurt an der Oder"

During my most wondrous wanderings through the Germanic lands, having arrived at the city of Frankfurt-upon-Oder, I encountered a young maiden. I beheld her in the very midst of the summers of the late nineteenth century. She was attired after the highest fashion of the German Empire, in those days which folk now call Modernity. Her head was adorned with an ingenious bonnet, artfully embellished with blossoms, as though a veritable spring garden had bloomed upon her golden tresses. The collar of her gown, high-standing and adorned with lace, bore witness to the nobility of her lineage and the austerity of the manners of that realm. Having been brought by the wheel of fortune into this current age, I stood in breathless wonder before the image of this local damsel. Her entire finery was no mere raiment, but a true mirror of that new epoch, wherein ancient virtues and modern chic were closely entwined.

🇺🇦 "Юна леді з Франкфурта-на-Одері"

🇬🇧 "Mariana of Porto"

The image of an extraordinary dame, who is named Mariana of Porto. We may behold her noble countenance, which is pridefully turned aside. Her head is adorned with a most lofty coiffure, fashioned in the manner of a tower, wherein amidst masterfully plaited tresses there appeareth a sumptuous headdress with feathers, such as befitteth a free spirit. Upon her neck, beneath the very chin, a right large and magnificent bow is attached, as if a wondrous flower had blossomed upon the collar. Knowing folk say that it is the fashion of distant lands from the close of the nineteenth century, which did prevail at the courts in the Kingdom of Portugal.

🇺🇦 "Маріана з Порту"

🇬🇧 "Lady from Lyon"

In lands afar, where the sun goes to sleep beyond the horizon, the Lady of Lyon appeared before me, as though woven from Marena's very dream. Upon her brow stood a high tower, a sharp steeple piercing the clouds, as if drawing heavenly power down to an earthly woman. Her raiment was as if sewn with gold, every thread the will of the gods. And this came to pass in the fifteenth century, when the old world in the Kingdom of France reached for the heavens in stone and gothic spire.

🇺🇦 "Дама з Ліона"

🇬🇧 "Lady of Castile"

Verily, in one of my far-flung wanderings, when the Wheel of Time didst turn me toward the sun-drenched lands of Castile, there arose before mine eyes the likeness of a Lady, worthy of grand palaces and royal chambers. I know not for certain which year it was by the reckoning of men, for in a land where past, present, and future dwell as one, numbers lose their dominion. Yet the spirit of the age spoke unerringly: ’twas the glorious sixteenth century, when Spain had reached the very zenith of her majesty, and the art of the Baroque filled the world with its wondrous and whimsical forms.

There stood before me the Lady of Castile—slender and sublime, like unto a queen from an ancient chronicle. Her brow was crowned with a precious diadem, shimmering with diamonds as the morning star above the walls of Toledo; and upon her breast rested a medallion wherein, it seemed, slumbered the secrets of distant seas and overseas realms.

Her raiment was adorned with patterns so intricate and opulent that the eye couldst not turn away. Embroidered with threads of gold and woven of finest silk, they stood as a true triumph of grandeur. Every line, every scrollwork flourish seemed to laud the might of her house, the honor of her lineage, and that steadfast dignity which in those days was prized above all gold.

Her gaze was gentle, yet imbued with an inward power. It seemed as though this Lady beheld not only him who stood before her, but all centuries at once—both those that have long since vanished and those yet to be endured.

Whilst I wrought her image upon a thin leaf of metal, the Lady remained silent, yet that silence was more eloquent than any tongue. And I understood then the truth which is revealed to travelers from time to time: beauty belongeth to no single moment, for she is eternal; all that was, that is, and that shall be, coexists at once, awaiting only him who hath the soul to behold it.

🇺🇦 "Дама з Кастилії"

Воістину, в одній із мандрів моїх, коли Колесо Часу обернуло мене до земель сонячної Кастилії, постав перед очима моїми образ Дами, гідної палаців і королівських палат. Не знаю напевне, котрий то був рік за літочисленням людським, бо в країні, де минуле, теперішнє і майбутнє існують водночас, числа втрачають свою владу. Та дух епохи промовляв безпомильно: то було славне шістнадцяте століття, коли Іспанія сягнула вершини своєї величі, а мистецтво бароко заповнило світ химерними формами.

Стояла переді мною Пані Кастильська — струнка й велична, мов королева з давньої хроніки. Чоло її вінчала діадема коштовна, діамантами сіяюча, що мерехтіла, немов ранкова зоря над мурами Толедо, а на грудях спочивав медальйон, у якому, здавалося, дрімали таємниці далеких морів та заморських королівств.

Шати її були оздоблені візерунками настільки хитромудрими та пишними, що око довго не могло відвести погляду. Гаптовані золотою ниттю, зіткані з шовку, вони являли собою справжній тріумф величі. Кожна лінія, кожен завиток ніби славив могутність дому, честь роду і непохитну гідність, яку в ті часи цінували понад золото.

Погляд її був лагідний, але сповнений внутрішньої сили. Здавалося, що ця Дама бачить не лише того, хто стоїть перед нею, а й усі століття одразу — і ті, що вже минули, і ті, що ще тільки належить пережити.