Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 13, Emperor Yōzei, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "From Tsukuba's peak Falling waters have become Mina's still, full flow: So my love has grown to be Like the river's quiet deeps." The image focuses on a silver, glittering waterfall cascading from the green, richly wooded peak of Mount Tsukuba. At the bottom of the waterfall, a deep, dark-blue pool with a swirling pattern forms. From the pool, the gentle, blue river Mina issues forth. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: Pink roses for a night of mystical romance. Their petals are painted in layered strokes of fuchsia and blush, with the outer edges delicately touched by hints of coral and creamy white.
A vibrant mosaic of Pink roses stands out against a colorful background of emerald, white and golden hues, creating a striking and artistic floral display.
A masterpiece of fragmentary mosaic cubism. The composition is created from flat plates of various natural minerals with a predominance of green jade, pink topaz and amber of different shades and transparency. Theme of the composition: Close-up
Stylization. Artistic and aesthetic exaggeration with elements of surrealism. Harmonious color combination of local fragments of the painting and its overall structure. Full-scale image.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 12, The Monk Henjo, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Let the winds of heaven Blow through the paths among the clouds And close their gates. Then for a while I could detain These messengers in maiden form." The image shows four beautiful Gosechi dancers in their colorful, elaborate, ornamented, multi-layered silk kiminos called jūni-hitoea, holding cypress fans, wearing their hair in an elaborate hairdo, and dancing to celebrate the rice harvest. Above the dancers, ominous, dark clouds are gathering decoratively, blown together by a strong wind. The purpose of the clouds is to detain the four "heavenly madens" from returning to heaven. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 11, Ono no Takamura, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Over the wide sea Towards its many distant isles My ship sets sail. Will the fishing boats thronged here Proclaim my journey to the world?" The image shows a small harbor inthe foreground, in which numerous traditional Japanese wooden sabani fishing boats are anchored. From the harbor, a single wooden sabani with large, white sails, is setting sail in good weather. The ocean is smooth, and the water's surface glitters silver and blue in the golden, late afternoon sun. The ship is sailing toward distant islands visible on the horizon, where the silver-blue sea meets the golden light of the sun. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 11, Semimaru, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Truly, this is where Travelers who go or come Over parting ways--Friends or strangers--all must meet: The gate of "Meeting Hill." The image shows a small, weathered wooden gate overgrown by grass and weeds on either side of the gate. The gate is integrated in a wooden rail-and-post fennce in rich, dense vegetation. A gravelly path leads up to and beyond the gate. The path winds up a grassy slope and beyond to the Meeting Hill. A wan sun shines down on the scene from a cloudy sky. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 9, Ono no Komachi, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Color of the flower Has already faded away, While in idle thoughts My life passes vainly by, As I watch the long rains fall." The image shows a back view of a middle-aged woman standing at a large picture window in the 35th floor of a skyscraper. She is gazing outside at the rain. We see a reflection in the windowpane of a pale, perfect calla lily in a vase. It is evening, and behind the reflection fo the calla lily, and behind the rain outside, we can make out the blurry outlines of many lit windows in nearby skyscrapers. The ambiance is one of wistfulness and loneliness, as the woman stands forlorn at the window. Exquisite modern Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 8, The Monk Kisen, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "My lowly hut is Southeast from the capital. Thus I choose to live. And the world in which I live Men have named a "Mount of Gloom."" The image shows a Shintō priest wearing the traditionsl shōzoku of an ordinary type (jōsō) in light blue, signifying a lesser rank. The priest is sitting on his haunches in front of his "lowly hut," gazing at the distant skyline of a modern city to the northeast, illuminated by the setting sun. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 7, Abe no Nakamaro, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "When I look up at The wide-stretched plain of heaven, Is the moon the same That rose on Mount Mikasa In the land of Kasuga?" The image shows a very large, pink rising full moon on the low horizon, so clear that the craters and marks on the moon are visible in full detail. The sky is a deepening mid-blue and extends to the edges of theimage. The first star, the evening star, is visible at the edge of the image. The landscape over which the moon is rising is hilly. The image focuses fully on the singular motif of the rising moon. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 6, Otomo no Yakamochi, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "If I see that bridge That is spanned by flights of magpies
Across the arc of heaven Made white with a deep-laid frost, Then the night is almost past." The image shows a tied arch bridge made of wood, bamboo and rope, spanning a deep valley. Craggy mountains populated by coniferous trees surrround the bridge. Above the bridge, a flock of magpies ascends to the frosty, deep blue sky. White hoarfrost has settled on the bridge and the abundant conifers. A rosy dawn fills the horizon, causing the hoarfrost to glint and shimmer. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 5, Sarumaru, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "In the mountain depths, Treading through the crimson leaves,
The wandering stag calls. When I hear the lonely cry, Sad--how sad!--the autumn is." The image shows a single, majestic stag in a bare autumn forest standing on a carpet of red, fallen leaves. The stag has lifted his head and is sending forth a rutting call. He has large, twelve-point antlers and is calling for a hind. One can see the breath of his call in the cold autumn morning air. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 4, Yamabe no Akahito, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "When I take the path To Tago's coast, I see Perfect whiteness laid On Mount Fuji's lofty peak By the drift of falling snow." The image shows a full scenic view of Mount Fuji from the coast at Tago near Eijiri, based on Katsushika Hokusai's woodblock print from his series "Thirty-Six-Views of Mount Fuji." In the foreground, we see wooden fishing boats steering through strong currents shown in repetitive wave patterns. In the mid-ground, we see the gentlecoastline. The upper half of the image is dominated by the spectacular view of Mount Fuji, with its blindingly white snow-capped peak and its archetypal curved silhouette, with its reverse curvature compared to the fishing boats in the foreground. The sun is shining on the mountain, and the trees along the coast as well as the choppy waves indicate that a strong wind is blowing. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Ogura Hyakunin Isshu No. 3 - Kakinomoto no Hitomaro
Model:
AIVision
Size:
5960 X 3352
(19.98 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 3, Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Oh, the foot-drawn trail Of the mountain-pheasant's tail Drooped like down-curved branch! Through this long, long-dragging night Must I lie in bed alone?" The image shows a forlorn, old man in a Japanese patterned cotton robe lying supine on a stark bed, arms crossed over his chest, staring into the sky. Outside his bedroom window, it is the break of dawn. A foggy, orange glow lies over the landscape. In the morning haze, we can make out a mountain footpath leading up to a snowy peak. Exquisitely detailed Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 2 of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: The spring has passed, And the summer come again; For the silk-white robes, So they say, are spread to dry On the "Mount of Heaven's Perfume." The image shows an intricately geometrically patterned woven silk robe spread on a dewy flower meadow under a rising summer sun. Exquisitely detailed Japanese folio.
Prompt: 16:9 format of a delicate ink and watercolor wash rendering on rough handmade paper of poem number 1, Emperor Tenchi, of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: "Coarse the rush-mat roof Sheltering the harvest-hut Of the autumn rice-field; And my sleeves are growing wet With the moisture dripping through." The image shows a rice paddy being harvested; the harvester on the left side of the image bends over the golden, ripe rice plants. He is holding a sharp sickle and is wearing a large, conical straw hat fastened under his chin, baggy pants, heavy rubber boots, and a loose blue smock with wide sleeves. The sleeves are wet to the elbows with the sweat of exertion and the humidity in the air. In the background stands a simple harvesting gut with a rush-mat roof. The early autumn sun is beating down on the harvesting scene. Exquisite Japanese folio.
Prompt: This is a stunning and colorful landscape, created in the patchwork style of By Alphonse Mucha, Luis Royo, Jacek Yerka, Tomasz Setowski and Aubrey Beardsley, (A young woman, light-skinned, is seated, with elaborate, flowing hair in red. Her hair is styled in long, voluminous strands that extend and drape around her, creating a dramatic effect. She wears a black, pleated dress with a lace overlay on the legs, accompanied by gold-accented, detailed, high-heeled boots. Gold embellishments and accessories, including a headpiece with floral designs, are noticeable. The woman's expression is calm and serene, and her gaze is directed slightly downward. Her body position is relaxed, with legs crossed. The background is a plain, bright white. The lighting is even, highlighting the subject and her attire. The perspective is slightly from above and slightly in front. The overall style is fashion-forward and artistic, with a focus on dramatic hair and bold accessories. The composition is balanced and emphasizes the volume and texture of the hair. Intricate details are evident in the elaborate hair style and embellishments). Full Size Image. In the style of Michael Cheval, Michael Whelan, Andrea Kowch, Dali, Alex Gray, B. M. Kustodiev, surreal, vivid colors, masterpiece, best quality AI art, diffuse lighting, ambient occlusion, Polished, Masterful Surrealism, Photorealistic, unreal engine, 128K, UHD, crisp quality, light reflections, RHADS, atmospheric, 3D texture, 3D shading, ultra 3-dimensional effect, volumetric lighting, highest quality AI art, pencil sharp edges, rich texture and color, clear, ultra-real, soft glow, psychedelic
Prompt: I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Prompt: I will build for you each night
A palace luminous
With whole blocks of emerald
And diamond stones.
Shall it be skyblue as your eyes,
Or green as your wishes:
Be, and the palace too shall be.
Sing softly, and obedient it will take you
And fly aloft like a drunken bird,
And rise on a thread of light,
seeking two sunken stars;
driven on by the seconds of time,
Their eyes closed in the discourse of night.
When together you have traversed
The expanse, and the oceans of light,
and reached the dome of heaven
Where sleep and dreams are made,
Asl after those my fingers
Which once touched that soil,
Sowed there flowers of welcome
Befor your visit came,
That might one day mark
The way to your fine palace.
Should you tire of the palace
of the pain of solitude and grief,
And remember this our earth,
its hills and streams,
Then whisper and I shall come,
The word's verdure in my cloak.
With sickness past, ask, O my desire,
That I erect anew the ruin.
If you love with a passion
That sheds luster on the dimmest star,
Then will i build myself in the skies
A Baalbek or Palmyra,
And say: ''Rejoice, be glad,
catch each comet like a ball''
With the world as but a show
For you, your amusement and your whim.
Prompt: a weeping woman with long disheveled brown hair and her hands covering her face. She kneels in heavy rain on a grey dull background. Behind her in the rain, a cracked grey wall. She wears a flowing, burgundy dress. The image is vivid, stark, grieving, hyperreal, surreal, tears mingle with the rain. abstract vector fractal, wave function, Zentangle, 3d shading
Prompt: The wind, that sneaky bastard,
it used to whisper through the pines,
soft, like a lover's promise in July.
Now it howls, a goddamn wolf,
ripping the last leaves from the birches
like an old man tearing up lottery tickets.
The lake, she's holding her breath,
that dark mirror gone still,
waiting for the first icy hand to grip her.
The sun, that lazy prick,
barely bothers to climb over the treeline anymore.
Just a weak, yellow yawn across the fields,
and then it's back to bed.
The air, it smells different now.
Not of damp earth and mushrooms,
but of something sharp, something clean.
Like a freshly sharpened axe.
The ground, hard as a miser's heart,
no more give, no more softness.
Even the crows sound different,
their cawing more urgent,
like they know something we don't.
Or maybe they just know what's coming.
The long dark.
The silence.
The cold that seeps into your bones
and makes you question if spring will ever come back.
But then...
But then you see the first snowflakes.
Fat, lazy, like they've got all the time in the world.
And you know it's here.
Winter.
And it's not just an ending, is it?
It's a beginning, too.
A time for stories by the fire.
A time for the Northern Lights to dance.
A time for the world to sleep,
and dream of what's to come.
And maybe, just maybe,
we'll dream a little, too.
Prompt: My thorny thoughts, my thorny thoughts,
You bring me only woe!
Why do you on the paper stand
So sadly row on row? ...
Why did the winds not scatter you
Like dust across the steppes?
Why did ill-luck not cradle you
To sleep upon its breast? ...
My thoughts, my melancholy thoughts,
My children, tender shoots!
I nursed you, brought you up -- and now
What shall I do with you? ...
Go to Ukraine, my homeless waifs!
Your way make to Ukraine
Along back roads like vagabonds,
But I'm doomed here to stay.
There you will find a heart that's true
And words of welcome kind,
There honesty, unvarnished truth
And, maybe, fame you'll find ...
So welcome them, my Motherland,
Ukraine, into your home!
Accept my guileless, simple brood
And take them for your own!
Prompt: Watercolor in the style of Josephine Wall, Tomasz Allen Kopera, Dariusz Zawadzki, Andreja Peklar, Ivan Shiskine, a whimsical scene set in a cozy, rustic study with an anthropomorphic fox sitting at a wooden desk. The fox has a detailed, furry face with large, expressive eyes and protruding ears. Dressed in a historical, earthy coat with a belt, the fox is diligently writing in an open sketchbook displaying intricate drawings. The setting includes a cluttered wooden desk adorned with various artist's supplies and tools, and a small bookshelf filled with vessels and knick-knacks; all bathed in soft, natural light streaming through a window. In the foreground, two smaller anthropomorphic foxes, reminiscent of fox cubs, curiously watch the fox from the corner, adding a playful touch to the scene. The overall mood is one of creativity and charm, with a rich color palette of brown, green and soft beige tones.
Prompt: I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,—
The tree is living yet!
In the style of Jack Butler Yeats... elements of Van Gogh
Prompt: A white Swan...And nearer to the river's trembling edge There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white, And starry river buds among the sedge, And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.
Prompt: Ethereal portrait of a beautiful ancient goddess. “Hmong Textile Patchwork" By Enki Bilal & Paul Klee & Jennifer Lommers & Hans Hartung & Meghan Duncanson & Mark Rothko & Dee Nickerson & Victor Brauner & Didier Lourenço & ∞
Prompt: In the Thai epic poem Phra Aphai Mani, there is a scene where the protagonist, Phra Aphai Mani, plays his magical flute while submerged underwater. This scene is often depicted in Thai art and literature, and it has become one of the most iconic images associated with the poem.
Prompt: I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Kelly Freas, Zdzisław Beksiński, Gerald Brom, complementary colors, underground comix, oil on canvas, fantastical, fantasy, ominous, fantasycore, storybook illustration
Prompt: I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Kelly Freas, Zdzisław Beksiński, Gerald Brom, complementary colors, underground comix, oil on canvas, fantastical, fantasy, ominous, fantasycore, storybook illustration
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
