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Sunday, February 8, 2015
Desire is life, J.Krishnamurti
DESIRE IS LIFE
Desire is life. The fulfillment of life is the perfection of desire.
As the scent of a lone flower is desire that fades with the death of the flower,
that has no being in itself but comes into rejoicing with life;
As the roaring waters rushing through the dark valley - - hidden, boisterous, terrible - -
so is desire.
As angry as the waters seeking a release is desire.
Woe to him who is caught up therein.
Through the dark valley lie the open, smiling fields,
and the scent of many flowers.
The fear of desire is the putting away of life.
An old poem by J.Krishnamurti, I have no name
An Old poem of J. Krishnamurti:
I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
I have no shelter;
I am as the wandering waters.
I have no sanctuary, like the dark gods;
Nor am I in the shadow of deep temples.
I have no sacred books;
Nor am I well-seasoned in tradition.
I am not in the incense
Mounting on the high altars,
Nor in the pomp of ceremonies.
I am neither in the graven image,
Nor in the rich chant of a melodious voice.
I am not bound by theories,
Nor corrupted by beliefs.
I am not held in the bondage of religions,
Nor in the pious agony of their priests.
I am not entrapped by philosophies,
Nor held in the power of their sects.
I am neither low nor high,
I am the worshipper and the worshipped.
I am free.
My song is the song of the river
Calling for the open seas,
Wandering, wandering,
I am Life.
I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
I have no shelter;
I am as the wandering waters.
I have no sanctuary, like the dark gods;
Nor am I in the shadow of deep temples.
I have no sacred books;
Nor am I well-seasoned in tradition.
I am not in the incense
Mounting on the high altars,
Nor in the pomp of ceremonies.
I am neither in the graven image,
Nor in the rich chant of a melodious voice.
I am not bound by theories,
Nor corrupted by beliefs.
I am not held in the bondage of religions,
Nor in the pious agony of their priests.
I am not entrapped by philosophies,
Nor held in the power of their sects.
I am neither low nor high,
I am the worshipper and the worshipped.
I am free.
My song is the song of the river
Calling for the open seas,
Wandering, wandering,
I am Life.
I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
Blautopf, snow, home , Alb, In the mid of winter
In the mid of winter
these clouds play
with sun and snow.
colors of winter
ever changing.
i feel happiness
moving out there
and my soul
reflects this beauty.
all of me
wants to be out
and present
and it is.
let us jump fences
and glide down
these white hills
to meet at the spring.
but let us be careful
licking the ice
as our tongues
can get stuck
better to kiss
this moment,
a simple feeling
to touch hearts
in the mid of winter
and innocence.
Labels:
Conrad Feder,
In the mid of winter,
poetry
Erik SATIE: Caresse
snowing outside.....tender snowflakes driven by a gentle wind...
Grantchester Meadows - 06 - Ummagumma - Pink Floyd
always liked this....
What does love look like? ...St.Augustine
What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.” St.Augustine | |
"All right", said the cat..The adventures of Alice in Wonderland
"All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.
“Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life.”
peter hammill forsaken gardens subtitulada
i am sorry that i cannot fully appreciate the music in it
but i read the text...
but i read the text...
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