Sunday, March 29, 2015
Animal of Light, Pablo Neruda
Animal of Light
Pablo Neruda
I am in this endless lack of solitude
an animal of light corralled
by his mistakes and by his foliage:
the forest is wide: here my brother creatures
swarm, back away or roam around,
while I retreat accompanied
by the escort that time chooses:
waves of the sea, stars of the night.
It is small, it is wide, scarce and is everything.
My eyes from looking into so many eyes
and my mouth from so many kisses,
from having swallowed the smoke
of those trains that vanished:
the old merciless stations
and the dust of countless bookshops,
the man I am, the mortal, weary
of eyes, of kisses, of smoke, of roads,
tired of books thicker than the earth.
And today, deep in the lost forest
he hears the rustling of the enemy and flees
not from the others but from himself,
from the interminable conversation,
from the choir that used to sing with us
and from the meaning of life.
Because one moment, because one voice, because one
syllable or the passing of one silence
or the undying sound of the wave
leave me face to face with the truth,
and there is nothing left to decipher,
nothing more to say: that was all:
the doors of the forest are closed,
the sun circles opening the leaves,
the moon rises like a white fruit
and man suits himself to his destiny.
--Pablo Neruda, from "Winter Garden" trans. by William O'Daly--
Pablo Neruda
I am in this endless lack of solitude
an animal of light corralled
by his mistakes and by his foliage:
the forest is wide: here my brother creatures
swarm, back away or roam around,
while I retreat accompanied
by the escort that time chooses:
waves of the sea, stars of the night.
It is small, it is wide, scarce and is everything.
My eyes from looking into so many eyes
and my mouth from so many kisses,
from having swallowed the smoke
of those trains that vanished:
the old merciless stations
and the dust of countless bookshops,
the man I am, the mortal, weary
of eyes, of kisses, of smoke, of roads,
tired of books thicker than the earth.
And today, deep in the lost forest
he hears the rustling of the enemy and flees
not from the others but from himself,
from the interminable conversation,
from the choir that used to sing with us
and from the meaning of life.
Because one moment, because one voice, because one
syllable or the passing of one silence
or the undying sound of the wave
leave me face to face with the truth,
and there is nothing left to decipher,
nothing more to say: that was all:
the doors of the forest are closed,
the sun circles opening the leaves,
the moon rises like a white fruit
and man suits himself to his destiny.
--Pablo Neruda, from "Winter Garden" trans. by William O'Daly--
Spring is like perhaps a hand, Ferdinand von Bozen (photo and quote)
Ferdinand von Bozen, facebook post
Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.
― E.E. Cummings
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.
― E.E. Cummings
o sweet gray day
o sweet gray day
drab and bleak and gloomy:
i praise you, universe,
for the flowers and the wind
i praise you, love, for light
and you earth, for bird's song.
i greet you, great silence,
deep and wide inside
i greet you, space to breathe,
i embrace you and me ,
and i caress you, the tree,
the green moss for me to see
i praise you, water,
for your flow
and i thank you, salt
to give me taste
o sweet gray day
i praise you
as i came alive
like a cloud in the sky
to sail away, weightless,
to change and rain and fly.
i thank you,universe,
for the roots you gave
for my heaviness to stay
on this soil and ground
where i met and found
the gift of moving, walking
i thank you that i may not know
what will be tomorrow
and not the end of time:
there is no plan for living.
drab and bleak and gloomy:
i praise you, universe,
for the flowers and the wind
i praise you, love, for light
and you earth, for bird's song.
i greet you, great silence,
deep and wide inside
i greet you, space to breathe,
i embrace you and me ,
and i caress you, the tree,
the green moss for me to see
i praise you, water,
for your flow
and i thank you, salt
to give me taste
o sweet gray day
i praise you
as i came alive
like a cloud in the sky
to sail away, weightless,
to change and rain and fly.
i thank you,universe,
for the roots you gave
for my heaviness to stay
on this soil and ground
where i met and found
the gift of moving, walking
i thank you that i may not know
what will be tomorrow
and not the end of time:
there is no plan for living.
never..
don't want to but this is not only up to one person,
there are always two involved
quote: Thinking Minds,facebook page
THE TIGER LILLIES - LONELY SCHIZOPHRENIC
no,no, don't worry, though the divided self speaks to each other...
and the wind rattles the shutters
and the wind rattles the shutters
Simon & Garfunkel - The Sound Of Silence+The Boxer+Bridge Over Troubled ...
cannot help but posting, it is so beautiful, soothing...
Richie Havens - Freedom (Studio Version) High Quality
i must remark that i just return home after having
taken my 89 year old mother for lunch
taken my 89 year old mother for lunch
Otis Taylor - Nobody Knows My Name
unfortunately not true, too many and nobody, it is not a real misery.
just get up and walk. forget what is a burden. collect new light and condensate it.
just get up and walk. forget what is a burden. collect new light and condensate it.
A wise man, Baltasar Gracián y Morales S.J
One can do both, be a fool and be wise,
it is the usual state of being
me
Baltasar Gracián y Morales S.J
TOWNES VAN ZANDT - "Lover's Lullaby" on Solo Sessions, January 17, 1995
quite unsuitable for this moment, just liked it
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