Donne entered this world during a period of theological and political unrest for both England and France. The fight between Protestantism and Catholicism was at their peak. A Protestant massacre occurred on Saint Bartholomew's Day in France; while in England, the Catholics were the persecuted minority.
Born into a Roman Catholic family, his personal relationship with the ghost of religion was tumultuous and passionate, and it was the center of much of his poetry.
He studied at both Oxford and Cambridge Universities in his early teen years but he did not take a degree at either school, because to do so would have forced him to subscribe himself to the Thirty-nine Articles, the doctrine that defined the Anglicanism.
At age of twenty he studied law at Lincoln's Inn. Two years later he succumbed to the religious pressure and joined the Anglican Church after his younger brother, convicted for his Catholic loyalties, died in prison. As a way of releasing his sorrow, he wrote most of his love lyrics and some sacred poem during this time.
In 1598, after returning from a two-year naval expedition against Spain, he was appointed private secretary to Sir Thomas Egerton. While working in Queen Elizabeth's last Parliament in 1601, he met the sixteen-year-old niece of Lady Egerton and secretly married her. Her uncle got mad because of this and disapproved the marriage, canceling the dowry for the couple. Due to this matter, Donn suffered social and financial instability in the beginning of the marriage life exacerbated by the birth of many children.
He continue to write and published the "Divine Poems" in 1607. Donn displayed his extensive knowledge of the laws of the Church and State, arguing that Roman Catholics could support James I without compromising their faith.
His wife aged Thirty-three died in 1617, shortly after giving birth to their twelfth child, a stillborn.
The "Holy Sonnets" are attributed to these phase of his life. He wrote his private prayers, "Devotion upon Emergent Occasions," during a period of severe illness and publish them in 1624.
His learned, charismatic, and inventive preaching made him a highly influential presence in London. Best Known for his vivacious, compelling style and thorough examination of mortal paradox, he was appointed Royal Chaplain in 1618.
In 1621, he became dean of Saint Paul's Cathedral. He died in London in 1631.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
COPLAS of MANRIQUE Part 2
Monarchs, the powerful and the strong, famous in history and in song, saw, by the decrees of FATE, their kingdoms lost and their sublime race so desolate. Who is the champion,? Who is the strong? On these shall fall the hand of DEATH as heavily as when it stays beside the shepherd's breath.
Like days of old, it now little avails to know ... Where is the noble heir of Aragon? Where are the courtly gallantries? ... How false and full of guile that world of betrayal saw the smile mask wore so soft! She so friendly before, now from the fated reign her fake charms are tore far away.
But it was mortal; and the breath that flamed from the hot forge of DEATH blasted during its time.
The Judgment of God is so clear! His flame raging fearfully and fierce, people quenched it in tears.
Spain, the true and gallant Master , whom most loved of all, breathe not a whisper of his pride, he on the gloomy scaffold DIED, ignoble fall! ... What was their prosperous estate when high exalted and elate his power and pride just a hot flame? But it only was a transient gleam of light which glared at its height but grew dim and died.
Earthly desires and sensual lust are passions springing from the dust, they fade and DIE; but in the LIFE beyond the tomb, they steal the immortal spirits and doom them eternally!
O World! so few the years we live, would that LIFE of yours on earth is LIFE INDEED! Alas! our sorrows fall so fast, and our happier hour is when at last our soul is freed. ...
The ETERNAL LIFE, beyond the sky, WEALTH CANNOT PURCHASE, nor the high and proud, ... neither the spirit corrupt with sin, theyshall not inherit a joy so great. ...
O DEATH, no more, no more delay; my spirit long to be at rest; the WILL of HEAVEN MY WILL SHALL BE, I bow to the divine decree, to GOD's SOVEREIGN WILL that we all shall die. ...
As thus the dying warrior pray, without any mist or shade upon his mind; encircled by his family, watched by affection's gentle eye, so soft and kind, his SOUL DEPART from his earthly body and GOD lead it to its final repose, its final nest. ...
Like days of old, it now little avails to know ... Where is the noble heir of Aragon? Where are the courtly gallantries? ... How false and full of guile that world of betrayal saw the smile mask wore so soft! She so friendly before, now from the fated reign her fake charms are tore far away.
But it was mortal; and the breath that flamed from the hot forge of DEATH blasted during its time.
The Judgment of God is so clear! His flame raging fearfully and fierce, people quenched it in tears.
Spain, the true and gallant Master , whom most loved of all, breathe not a whisper of his pride, he on the gloomy scaffold DIED, ignoble fall! ... What was their prosperous estate when high exalted and elate his power and pride just a hot flame? But it only was a transient gleam of light which glared at its height but grew dim and died.
Earthly desires and sensual lust are passions springing from the dust, they fade and DIE; but in the LIFE beyond the tomb, they steal the immortal spirits and doom them eternally!
O World! so few the years we live, would that LIFE of yours on earth is LIFE INDEED! Alas! our sorrows fall so fast, and our happier hour is when at last our soul is freed. ...
The ETERNAL LIFE, beyond the sky, WEALTH CANNOT PURCHASE, nor the high and proud, ... neither the spirit corrupt with sin, theyshall not inherit a joy so great. ...
O DEATH, no more, no more delay; my spirit long to be at rest; the WILL of HEAVEN MY WILL SHALL BE, I bow to the divine decree, to GOD's SOVEREIGN WILL that we all shall die. ...
As thus the dying warrior pray, without any mist or shade upon his mind; encircled by his family, watched by affection's gentle eye, so soft and kind, his SOUL DEPART from his earthly body and GOD lead it to its final repose, its final nest. ...
COPLAS of MANRIQUE Part 1
Jorge Manrique (1440-1479) was a Spanish poet whose main work was the Lyrics on the Death of his Father. It is the most famous poem in the Spanish language. Here we present a summary of this great work.
O let the SOUL, her slumbers break, let THOUGHT be quickened and awake; awake to see how soon this LIFE is PAST and GONE, and how silently DEATH comes STEALING ON!
Swiftly our PLEASURES glide away, our hearts recall the DISTANT day with many sighs; the MOMENTS that are speeding fast we heed not, but the past, - the past, more highly prize.
Onward its course the present keeps, onward the contrast current sweeps, till LIFE IS DONE; and, did we judge of time aright, PAST and FUTURE in their flight would be as one.
Let no one fondly DREAM again, that HOPE and all her shadowy train WILL NOT DECAY; fleeting as were the dreams of old, remembered like a tale that is told, they pass away.
Our lives are rivers, gliding free to that unfathomed, boundless sea, the SILENT GRAVE!
Thither roll all earthly pomp and boast, to be swallowed up and lost in one DARK WAVE.
Thither the mighty torrents stray, thither the brook pursues its way, and tinkling rill, they all are equal; side by side the poor man and the son of pride lie calm and still. ...
To One alone my thoughts arise to the eternal TRUTH, the Good and Wise, to Him I cry, Who shared on earth our common lot, but the world comprehend not His Deity.
This world is but the rugged road which lead us to the bright abode of PEACE above; so let us choose the narrow way, which leads no traveler's foot astray from realms of LOVE, our craddle is the starting place, LIFE is the running of the race, we reach the goal when, in the mansions of the blest, DEATH leaves to its eternal rest the weary soul. But we did use LIFE as we ought, the world would master each wandering thought to its high state. FAITH wings the soul beyond the sky, up to that better world on high, for which we wait.
Yes, the messenger of LOVE, our Saviour came, to guide us to our home above; born mortal, He suffered a death of shame in this valley of tears.
Behold the delusive worth of bubbles of this world that we pursue, the shapes we chase full of deceitful ways; the bubbles vanish when DEATH shuts the eye and leave no trace.
Time steals them from us, chances strange them, disastrous accident probably come, and, all of these is subject to all, even in the most exalted state, the stroke of FAITH is relentless swept that make the strongest fall. ... The cunning skill, the art of the curious, the glorious strength that youth imparts in life's first stage, shall become a heavy weight when TIME swings wide its outward gate to weary age.
... Wealth and the high state of pride, with what untimely speed they glide, how soon they depart. But the inconstant goddess knows no rest, but a world of changing without repose that she continues on and on.
... Earthly desires and sensual lust are passions springing from the dust, they fade and DIED; but, in the LIFE beyond the tomb, they are the ones who seal the spirit immortal's doom eternally! Pleasures and delights are masked treacherous smiles that jeopardize LIFE's serious task, they are all but the fleet coursers of the chase that DEATH ambush in the race just to caught us wondering wherein we fall?
O let the SOUL, her slumbers break, let THOUGHT be quickened and awake; awake to see how soon this LIFE is PAST and GONE, and how silently DEATH comes STEALING ON!
Swiftly our PLEASURES glide away, our hearts recall the DISTANT day with many sighs; the MOMENTS that are speeding fast we heed not, but the past, - the past, more highly prize.
Onward its course the present keeps, onward the contrast current sweeps, till LIFE IS DONE; and, did we judge of time aright, PAST and FUTURE in their flight would be as one.
Let no one fondly DREAM again, that HOPE and all her shadowy train WILL NOT DECAY; fleeting as were the dreams of old, remembered like a tale that is told, they pass away.
Our lives are rivers, gliding free to that unfathomed, boundless sea, the SILENT GRAVE!
Thither roll all earthly pomp and boast, to be swallowed up and lost in one DARK WAVE.
Thither the mighty torrents stray, thither the brook pursues its way, and tinkling rill, they all are equal; side by side the poor man and the son of pride lie calm and still. ...
To One alone my thoughts arise to the eternal TRUTH, the Good and Wise, to Him I cry, Who shared on earth our common lot, but the world comprehend not His Deity.
This world is but the rugged road which lead us to the bright abode of PEACE above; so let us choose the narrow way, which leads no traveler's foot astray from realms of LOVE, our craddle is the starting place, LIFE is the running of the race, we reach the goal when, in the mansions of the blest, DEATH leaves to its eternal rest the weary soul. But we did use LIFE as we ought, the world would master each wandering thought to its high state. FAITH wings the soul beyond the sky, up to that better world on high, for which we wait.
Yes, the messenger of LOVE, our Saviour came, to guide us to our home above; born mortal, He suffered a death of shame in this valley of tears.
Behold the delusive worth of bubbles of this world that we pursue, the shapes we chase full of deceitful ways; the bubbles vanish when DEATH shuts the eye and leave no trace.
Time steals them from us, chances strange them, disastrous accident probably come, and, all of these is subject to all, even in the most exalted state, the stroke of FAITH is relentless swept that make the strongest fall. ... The cunning skill, the art of the curious, the glorious strength that youth imparts in life's first stage, shall become a heavy weight when TIME swings wide its outward gate to weary age.
... Wealth and the high state of pride, with what untimely speed they glide, how soon they depart. But the inconstant goddess knows no rest, but a world of changing without repose that she continues on and on.
... Earthly desires and sensual lust are passions springing from the dust, they fade and DIED; but, in the LIFE beyond the tomb, they are the ones who seal the spirit immortal's doom eternally! Pleasures and delights are masked treacherous smiles that jeopardize LIFE's serious task, they are all but the fleet coursers of the chase that DEATH ambush in the race just to caught us wondering wherein we fall?
THE CHALLENGE OF THOR from Henry W. Longfellow
I am the god THOR, I am the WAR god, I am the THUNDERER!
Here in my NORTHLAND, my fastness and fortress, I REIGN FOREVER!
Here amid icebergs I RULE THE NATIONS.
This is my HAMMER, my INNER MIGHTY;
giants and sorcerers CANNOT WITHSTAND IT!
These are the GAUNTLETS (gloves) wherewith I WIELD IT! and hurl it afar off;
This is my GIRDLE; whenever I BRACE IT, STRENGTH IS REDOUBLED!
The LIGHT you behold stream through the HEAVENS, in flashes of crimson,
is but MY RED BEARD blown by the NIGHT - WIND,
AFFRIGHTING THE NATIONS!
JOVE is my brother; MINE EYES are the LIGHTNING;
the WHEELS of my CHARIOT roll IN THE THUNDER,
the BLOWS of my HAMMER RING IN THE EARTHQUAKE!
FORCE still RULES the WORLD, it has ruled it, it shall rule it; during
MY TIMES of WAR, MEEKNESS is WEAKNESS, STRENGTH is TRIUMPHANT,
OVER the WHOLE EARTH it is STILL THOR's DAY!
You are a God too, O GALILEAN!
And thus SINGLED-HANDED unto COMBAT,
GAUNTLETS or GOSPEL, HERE I DEFY YOU!
Here in my NORTHLAND, my fastness and fortress, I REIGN FOREVER!
Here amid icebergs I RULE THE NATIONS.
This is my HAMMER, my INNER MIGHTY;
giants and sorcerers CANNOT WITHSTAND IT!
These are the GAUNTLETS (gloves) wherewith I WIELD IT! and hurl it afar off;
This is my GIRDLE; whenever I BRACE IT, STRENGTH IS REDOUBLED!
The LIGHT you behold stream through the HEAVENS, in flashes of crimson,
is but MY RED BEARD blown by the NIGHT - WIND,
AFFRIGHTING THE NATIONS!
JOVE is my brother; MINE EYES are the LIGHTNING;
the WHEELS of my CHARIOT roll IN THE THUNDER,
the BLOWS of my HAMMER RING IN THE EARTHQUAKE!
FORCE still RULES the WORLD, it has ruled it, it shall rule it; during
MY TIMES of WAR, MEEKNESS is WEAKNESS, STRENGTH is TRIUMPHANT,
OVER the WHOLE EARTH it is STILL THOR's DAY!
You are a God too, O GALILEAN!
And thus SINGLED-HANDED unto COMBAT,
GAUNTLETS or GOSPEL, HERE I DEFY YOU!
MEEKNESS is not weakness. by Abraham Lincoln
Meekness is not weakness,
it is strength under control,
do not think of me as weak, shy, reserved, or timid.
I am a child of the king,
the half has not yet been told.
No! You can't walk all over me
and treat me like a door mat,
I am not trying to straighten out the world
and that settles that.
I refuse to respond to every critic and
I won't let it bother me.
I may have the power to do something about it,
but my time is too valuable you see:
I will keep my focus and stand tall
doing what I am called to do.
My strength and power is in God's control.
Meekness is not weakness,
blessed are the chosen few.
it is strength under control,
do not think of me as weak, shy, reserved, or timid.
I am a child of the king,
the half has not yet been told.
No! You can't walk all over me
and treat me like a door mat,
I am not trying to straighten out the world
and that settles that.
I refuse to respond to every critic and
I won't let it bother me.
I may have the power to do something about it,
but my time is too valuable you see:
I will keep my focus and stand tall
doing what I am called to do.
My strength and power is in God's control.
Meekness is not weakness,
blessed are the chosen few.
Friday, March 7, 2014
LAUGH while CRYING by Garrick ( 1717 - 1779 )
Watching a Garrick -an actor from England- the people would say applauding: "You are the funniest one on earth and the happiest one." And the comedian would laugh.
Victims of melancholy, the highest lords, during their darkest and heaviest nights would go to see the king of actors and change their melancholy into roars of laughter.
Once, before a famous doctor, came a man with eyes so somber. He said:"I suffer an illness so horrible as this paleness of my face. Nothing holds an enchantment or attractiveness; I do not care about my name or my fate. I die living an eternal melancholy and my only hope is that of death."
-Travel and distract yourself. - I have traveled so much!
-Search for reading. - I have read so much!
-Have a woman love you. - But I am loved.
-Get a title. - I was born a noble.
-Might you be poor? - I have richness.
-Do you like compliments? - I hear so many!
-What do you have as a family? - My sadness.
-Do you go to the cemeteries? - Often, very often.
-Of your current life, do you have witnesses? - Yes, but I do not let them impose their burdens; I call the dead my friends, and the living my executioners.
-Your illness leave me perplexed, I must not scare you. Take today this advise as a prescription, only watching Garrick you can be cured. - Garrick?
-Yes, Garrick, the most indolent and austere society anxiously seeks him. Everyone who seeks him, dies of laughter; he has an amazing artistic grace. - And me? Will he make me laugh?
-Ah, yes, I swear it; he and no one but him; but ... what disturbs you? - So, I won't be cured.
- I am Garrick! Change the prescription.
Victims of melancholy, the highest lords, during their darkest and heaviest nights would go to see the king of actors and change their melancholy into roars of laughter.
Once, before a famous doctor, came a man with eyes so somber. He said:"I suffer an illness so horrible as this paleness of my face. Nothing holds an enchantment or attractiveness; I do not care about my name or my fate. I die living an eternal melancholy and my only hope is that of death."
-Travel and distract yourself. - I have traveled so much!
-Search for reading. - I have read so much!
-Have a woman love you. - But I am loved.
-Get a title. - I was born a noble.
-Might you be poor? - I have richness.
-Do you like compliments? - I hear so many!
-What do you have as a family? - My sadness.
-Do you go to the cemeteries? - Often, very often.
-Of your current life, do you have witnesses? - Yes, but I do not let them impose their burdens; I call the dead my friends, and the living my executioners.
-Your illness leave me perplexed, I must not scare you. Take today this advise as a prescription, only watching Garrick you can be cured. - Garrick?
-Yes, Garrick, the most indolent and austere society anxiously seeks him. Everyone who seeks him, dies of laughter; he has an amazing artistic grace. - And me? Will he make me laugh?
-Ah, yes, I swear it; he and no one but him; but ... what disturbs you? - So, I won't be cured.
- I am Garrick! Change the prescription.
HEARTS of OAKS by D. Garrick (1717 - 1779)
Come, cheer up, you who perpetuate "youth." To glorify "youth" we steer.
To add something more to this wonderful year.
To honor "youth"we summon you, as freemen, not as slaves, for who are as free as the sons of the waves who as energy-bearing, self-propagating lads portraits freedom and perpetuate "youth"?
HEART of OAKS, are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence, making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight an we will conquer again and again.
The adults swear they will invade us. Oh, these terrible foes. They frighten our women, our offspring and lovers. Should their flat-bottom carriers going in darkness also, will get over us?
They still men will find a way to receive 'age' on their shores.
HEART of OAKS are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence, making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight and we will conquer again and again.
"Youth" is, in herself, triumphant. Her ships bringing her essence, sweep the sea. Her on measure of justice is preserved. Her watch-word persist : BE FREE!
Then youth and everyone who wants to preserve it, cheers up.
You soldiers, sailors, you statesmen, and king, with one heart let everybody sing.
HEART of OAKS, are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence,
making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight and we will conquer again and again.
To add something more to this wonderful year.
To honor "youth"we summon you, as freemen, not as slaves, for who are as free as the sons of the waves who as energy-bearing, self-propagating lads portraits freedom and perpetuate "youth"?
HEART of OAKS, are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence, making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight an we will conquer again and again.
The adults swear they will invade us. Oh, these terrible foes. They frighten our women, our offspring and lovers. Should their flat-bottom carriers going in darkness also, will get over us?
They still men will find a way to receive 'age' on their shores.
HEART of OAKS are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence, making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight and we will conquer again and again.
"Youth" is, in herself, triumphant. Her ships bringing her essence, sweep the sea. Her on measure of justice is preserved. Her watch-word persist : BE FREE!
Then youth and everyone who wants to preserve it, cheers up.
You soldiers, sailors, you statesmen, and king, with one heart let everybody sing.
HEART of OAKS, are our ships, jolly tars our men, disguised in the dark, thick viscous essence,
making dreams seem true. We always ready, steady lad, steady!
We will fight and we will conquer again and again.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
PEOPLE of the ANDES by Angela Bernales
Everything changed in 1531, a bearded Spaniard stepped off his ship on the shores of the New Land.
Pursuing gold, silver, and new lands for the Spanish Crown, he could not pick a better time.
A dynastic war between two brothers had left People of the Andes unprepared and in chaos.
The moment was precise, the bearded Spaniard and his crew went in pursuit of the riches of the land.
Through trickery and betrayal, he captured the winning brother and executed him. The last one of the dynasty faded away.
People of the Andes, powerful and brilliant administrators, efficient peace keepers, negotiators instead of imposers; in one hundred years unified the largest concentration of substance called "power."
The sum of all was called "Tawantisuyu" (Land of four quarters). Twelve million people were united.
Then fleshy desires over "power" made war to appear. What was conquer in one hundred years was lost just in a few. People of the Andes knew that "end" was near. The laws were broken.
Nature has to punish.
The bearded Spaniard with primitive firearms and men mounted in horses weren't able to win.
People of the Andes knew that in advance. Somehow the power harmonized itself. Both sides were running after fleshy treasures. People of the Andes had to let them win. This was the law of nature.
People of the Andes weren't defeated by the bearded Spaniard and his crew. They just let them win.
And their love for Harmony and their respect for Nature never was lost, and after more than five hundred years since the bearded man and his crew came to the shores of the "Tawantisuyu",
the SOUL of the People of the Andes still is in love with Harmony and still feels respect for Nature because for them that is the Universal Law.
Pursuing gold, silver, and new lands for the Spanish Crown, he could not pick a better time.
A dynastic war between two brothers had left People of the Andes unprepared and in chaos.
The moment was precise, the bearded Spaniard and his crew went in pursuit of the riches of the land.
Through trickery and betrayal, he captured the winning brother and executed him. The last one of the dynasty faded away.
People of the Andes, powerful and brilliant administrators, efficient peace keepers, negotiators instead of imposers; in one hundred years unified the largest concentration of substance called "power."
The sum of all was called "Tawantisuyu" (Land of four quarters). Twelve million people were united.
Then fleshy desires over "power" made war to appear. What was conquer in one hundred years was lost just in a few. People of the Andes knew that "end" was near. The laws were broken.
Nature has to punish.
The bearded Spaniard with primitive firearms and men mounted in horses weren't able to win.
People of the Andes knew that in advance. Somehow the power harmonized itself. Both sides were running after fleshy treasures. People of the Andes had to let them win. This was the law of nature.
People of the Andes weren't defeated by the bearded Spaniard and his crew. They just let them win.
And their love for Harmony and their respect for Nature never was lost, and after more than five hundred years since the bearded man and his crew came to the shores of the "Tawantisuyu",
the SOUL of the People of the Andes still is in love with Harmony and still feels respect for Nature because for them that is the Universal Law.
Monday, March 3, 2014
NELL's FUNERAL by Charles Dickens (1812- 1870)
And now the bell, -the bell she had so often heard by night and day,
listened to with solemn pleasure, now, they as a living voice,
rung its remorseless toll for her, so young, so beautiful, so good.
Decrepit age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy,
poured forth on crutches, in the pride of strength, and health, in the full blush of promise,
the mere dawn of life, to gather round her tomb.
Old men were there whose eyes were dim and the senses failing.
Grandames who might have died ten years ago;
and still being old: the deaf, the blind, the lame,
the living dead in many shapes and forms,
to see the closing of this early grave.
Along the crowded path they bore her now;
pure as the fallen snow that covered it;
whose day on earth had been as fleeting;
under that place, where she had sat when Heaven in mercy brought her to a peaceful spot,
she passed again, and the old church received her in its quite shade.
They carried her to one old nook, where she had many and many a time sat musing,
and laid their burden softly on the pavement.
The light streamed on it through the colored window,
- a window where the boughs of trees were ever rustling in the summer,
and where the birds sang sweetly all day long.
listened to with solemn pleasure, now, they as a living voice,
rung its remorseless toll for her, so young, so beautiful, so good.
Decrepit age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy,
poured forth on crutches, in the pride of strength, and health, in the full blush of promise,
the mere dawn of life, to gather round her tomb.
Old men were there whose eyes were dim and the senses failing.
Grandames who might have died ten years ago;
and still being old: the deaf, the blind, the lame,
the living dead in many shapes and forms,
to see the closing of this early grave.
Along the crowded path they bore her now;
pure as the fallen snow that covered it;
whose day on earth had been as fleeting;
under that place, where she had sat when Heaven in mercy brought her to a peaceful spot,
she passed again, and the old church received her in its quite shade.
They carried her to one old nook, where she had many and many a time sat musing,
and laid their burden softly on the pavement.
The light streamed on it through the colored window,
- a window where the boughs of trees were ever rustling in the summer,
and where the birds sang sweetly all day long.
A TOWN in the black CITY in the SEA. by Poe (1809-1849)
Lo! DEATH has reared himself a THRONE in a STRANGE CITY alone far DOWN within the DIM WEST, where the GOOD and the BAD and the WORST and the BEST have gone to their ETERNAL REST.
There SHRINES and PALACES and TOWERS (Time-eaten Towers that tremble not!) resemble nothing that is ours, AROUND, by lifting WINDS forgot.
Resignedly BENEATH the SKY the MELANCHOLY WATERS LIE.
NO RAYS from the HOLY HEAVEN come down on the long NIGHT-TIME of that TOWN;
but LIGHT from out of the lurid sea STREAMS UP the turrets SILENTLY and GLEAMS UP the PINNACLES far and free.
UP DOMES - UP SPIRES - UP kingly HALLS - UP BABYLON-LIKE WALLS -
UP shadowy long-forgotten BOWERS of SCULPTURED IVY and STONE FLOWERS -
UP many and many marvelous SHRINE whose WREATHED FRIEZES INTERTWINE the VIOL, the VIOLET, and the WINE.
Resignedly BENEATH the SKY the MELANCHOLY WATERS LIE.
So BLEND the TURRETS and SHADOWS THERE that all seem pendulous IN AIR, while from a proud tower in the town, DEATH LOOKS GIGANTICALLY DOWN.
There SHRINES and PALACES and TOWERS (Time-eaten Towers that tremble not!) resemble nothing that is ours, AROUND, by lifting WINDS forgot.
Resignedly BENEATH the SKY the MELANCHOLY WATERS LIE.
NO RAYS from the HOLY HEAVEN come down on the long NIGHT-TIME of that TOWN;
but LIGHT from out of the lurid sea STREAMS UP the turrets SILENTLY and GLEAMS UP the PINNACLES far and free.
UP DOMES - UP SPIRES - UP kingly HALLS - UP BABYLON-LIKE WALLS -
UP shadowy long-forgotten BOWERS of SCULPTURED IVY and STONE FLOWERS -
UP many and many marvelous SHRINE whose WREATHED FRIEZES INTERTWINE the VIOL, the VIOLET, and the WINE.
Resignedly BENEATH the SKY the MELANCHOLY WATERS LIE.
So BLEND the TURRETS and SHADOWS THERE that all seem pendulous IN AIR, while from a proud tower in the town, DEATH LOOKS GIGANTICALLY DOWN.
The entity named "BLACK" by Sri Aurobindo (1872 - 1950)
At last I find a meaning of SOUL's birth into this universe terrible and at the same time sweet.
I who have felt the hungry HEART of EARTH aspiring BEYOND HEAVEN to BLACK's feet.
I have seen the beauty of IMMORTAL EYES, and heard the passion of the LOVER's flute, and
known a DEATHLESS ecstasy's SURPRISE and SORROW in my HEART FOREVER MUTE.
Nearer and nearer now the MUSIC draws, LIFE SHUDDERS with a STRANGE FELICITY;
ALL NATURE is a wide enamored PAUSE hoping her Lord TO TOUCH, TO CLASP, TO BE.
For THIS MOMENT LIVED the AGES PAST; the WORLD now throbs FULFILLED IN ME AT LAST.
For over 40 years, Sri Aurobindo worked for his vision of a divine life on earth.
Through his expression of inner experiences able to access the state of consciousness beyond the usual awareness, his writings and poetry gives us a glimpse of higher worlds, and as well as a poetic description of his elevating experiences he left a legacy which reflects his hopes of a golden future for humanity.
I who have felt the hungry HEART of EARTH aspiring BEYOND HEAVEN to BLACK's feet.
I have seen the beauty of IMMORTAL EYES, and heard the passion of the LOVER's flute, and
known a DEATHLESS ecstasy's SURPRISE and SORROW in my HEART FOREVER MUTE.
Nearer and nearer now the MUSIC draws, LIFE SHUDDERS with a STRANGE FELICITY;
ALL NATURE is a wide enamored PAUSE hoping her Lord TO TOUCH, TO CLASP, TO BE.
For THIS MOMENT LIVED the AGES PAST; the WORLD now throbs FULFILLED IN ME AT LAST.
For over 40 years, Sri Aurobindo worked for his vision of a divine life on earth.
Through his expression of inner experiences able to access the state of consciousness beyond the usual awareness, his writings and poetry gives us a glimpse of higher worlds, and as well as a poetic description of his elevating experiences he left a legacy which reflects his hopes of a golden future for humanity.
CRITICISM is really necessary for human growth?
Criticism is a valuable tool and highly effective when it is delivered in a way that helps you get things done better and has the power to change your personal life for the better when it is processed through logical rather than emotional thinking.
CRITICISM, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man's growth without destroying his roots.
(Frank A. Clark).
You just never give up, no matter how hard the challenges are, and observe this world with a healthy dose of CRITICISM and do not just follow the herd like somebody else might do.
(Renny Harlin).
CRITICISM may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. (Winston Churchill).
The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved by CRITICISM.
(Norman Vincent Peale).
The final proof of greatness lies in being able to endure CRITICISM without resentment.
(Elbert Hubbard)
Few people have the wisdom to prefer CRITICISM that would help them pretty good to grow, to the praise that deceives them. (Francois de la Rochefoucauld).
Too many individuals have a commitment of convenience.
They will stay faithful as long as it is safe and do not invoke risk, rejection, or CRITICISM.
Instead of standing alone in the face of challenge or temptation, they check to see which way their friends are going. (Charles Stanley).
The greatest thread to freedom is the absence of CRTICISM. Be willing to accept no matter what a constructive CRITICISM, because it makes you strong.
CRITICISM, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man's growth without destroying his roots.
(Frank A. Clark).
You just never give up, no matter how hard the challenges are, and observe this world with a healthy dose of CRITICISM and do not just follow the herd like somebody else might do.
(Renny Harlin).
CRITICISM may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. (Winston Churchill).
The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved by CRITICISM.
(Norman Vincent Peale).
The final proof of greatness lies in being able to endure CRITICISM without resentment.
(Elbert Hubbard)
Few people have the wisdom to prefer CRITICISM that would help them pretty good to grow, to the praise that deceives them. (Francois de la Rochefoucauld).
Too many individuals have a commitment of convenience.
They will stay faithful as long as it is safe and do not invoke risk, rejection, or CRITICISM.
Instead of standing alone in the face of challenge or temptation, they check to see which way their friends are going. (Charles Stanley).
The greatest thread to freedom is the absence of CRTICISM. Be willing to accept no matter what a constructive CRITICISM, because it makes you strong.
STATUES / STATUAS by Delmira A. (1886-1914)
Have you never felt piety for the STATUES? These chrysalides of stone. A formidable race in an eternal, unutterable hope. The sleeping craters of their mouths utter the black ash of silence.
A copius shroud of calm falls from the columns of their arms, and night flows from their eye sockets.
Acaso nunca sentiste piedad por las ESTATUAS? Estas crisalidas de piedra. Una formidable raza en una eterna espera inexplicable con una horrida esperanza. Los crateres dormidos de sus bocas dando la ceniza negra del silencio. La mortaja copiosa de la calma emana de las columnas de sus hombros y fluye la noche de las orbitas de sus ojos.
Victims of Destiny or Mystery, in magnificent and terrible cocoons, they wait for life and death.
Perhaps you have never felt piety for the STATUES.
Piety for the lives that will not strew, nor rend the battles, nor gild the fiery truces. Piety for the bodies clothed in solemn calm. Piety for the luminous foreheads that endure their marble wreaths, grand and pure, weighty and glacial as icebergs. Piety for the gloved hands of ice that cannot uproot the delicious fruits of the flesh, and the fantastic flowers of the soul.
Victimas del Futuro o del Misterio, en magnificos y terribles capullos, esperan vida o muerte.
De repente no has sentido piedad por las ESTATUAS.
Piedad para las vidas que no doran a fuego las bonanzas, ni riegan o desgajan tormentas. Piedad para los cuerpos revestidos en una calma solemne. Piedad por sus frentes en luz que sobrellevan grandes lirios en marmoles de pureza, pesados como tempanos glaciales. Piedad para las manos con guantes de hielo que no arrancan los frutos deleitosos de la carne, ni las flores fantasticas del alma.
A copius shroud of calm falls from the columns of their arms, and night flows from their eye sockets.
Acaso nunca sentiste piedad por las ESTATUAS? Estas crisalidas de piedra. Una formidable raza en una eterna espera inexplicable con una horrida esperanza. Los crateres dormidos de sus bocas dando la ceniza negra del silencio. La mortaja copiosa de la calma emana de las columnas de sus hombros y fluye la noche de las orbitas de sus ojos.
Victims of Destiny or Mystery, in magnificent and terrible cocoons, they wait for life and death.
Perhaps you have never felt piety for the STATUES.
Piety for the lives that will not strew, nor rend the battles, nor gild the fiery truces. Piety for the bodies clothed in solemn calm. Piety for the luminous foreheads that endure their marble wreaths, grand and pure, weighty and glacial as icebergs. Piety for the gloved hands of ice that cannot uproot the delicious fruits of the flesh, and the fantastic flowers of the soul.
Victimas del Futuro o del Misterio, en magnificos y terribles capullos, esperan vida o muerte.
De repente no has sentido piedad por las ESTATUAS.
Piedad para las vidas que no doran a fuego las bonanzas, ni riegan o desgajan tormentas. Piedad para los cuerpos revestidos en una calma solemne. Piedad por sus frentes en luz que sobrellevan grandes lirios en marmoles de pureza, pesados como tempanos glaciales. Piedad para las manos con guantes de hielo que no arrancan los frutos deleitosos de la carne, ni las flores fantasticas del alma.
ATTENTION and WISDOM
Attention is one thing and Wisdom another. Sheep and goats, oxen and buffaloes, camel and asses have attention. They are mention so many times through stories symbolizing the VIRTUE OF BEING ATTENTIVE. But they DO NOT HAVE WISDOM
Consideration is the mark of ATTENTION, cutting off that of WISDOM.
A good symbolism is in the work of the barley-reapers. They, with the left hand, seize a barley's bunch,
and with the right hand, they hold a sickle (tool with a curved blade), to cut off the barley with it.
In life people seize their mental processes with "ATTENTION" to them, and by their "WISDOM" they cut off the rough edges, the defilements that distract their attention.
An expert is someone who has succeeded in making decisions and judgments simpler through knowing WHAT TO PAY ATTENTION TO and WHAT TO IGNORE.
(Edward de Bono)
Do the things that interest you and do them with all your heart. Do not be concerned about whether people are watching you or criticizing you. The chances are that they are not paying attention to you.
(Eleanor Rooselvet)
Money and happiness are like birds; the more you chase them, the more they will slip away from you, but if you TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO other things, they will come to you and be with you resting in your shoulders.
(Angela Bernales)
When we really PAY ATTENTION TO EACH OTHER in a very quiet and delighted interest, a magnetic and creative FORCE inside each of us begins to spring and cast up new thoughts, like a fountain of water of unexpected force are surfacing to the earth, in the same way is the unexpected WISDOM.
(Angela Bernales)
Consideration is the mark of ATTENTION, cutting off that of WISDOM.
A good symbolism is in the work of the barley-reapers. They, with the left hand, seize a barley's bunch,
and with the right hand, they hold a sickle (tool with a curved blade), to cut off the barley with it.
In life people seize their mental processes with "ATTENTION" to them, and by their "WISDOM" they cut off the rough edges, the defilements that distract their attention.
An expert is someone who has succeeded in making decisions and judgments simpler through knowing WHAT TO PAY ATTENTION TO and WHAT TO IGNORE.
(Edward de Bono)
Do the things that interest you and do them with all your heart. Do not be concerned about whether people are watching you or criticizing you. The chances are that they are not paying attention to you.
(Eleanor Rooselvet)
Money and happiness are like birds; the more you chase them, the more they will slip away from you, but if you TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO other things, they will come to you and be with you resting in your shoulders.
(Angela Bernales)
When we really PAY ATTENTION TO EACH OTHER in a very quiet and delighted interest, a magnetic and creative FORCE inside each of us begins to spring and cast up new thoughts, like a fountain of water of unexpected force are surfacing to the earth, in the same way is the unexpected WISDOM.
(Angela Bernales)
WHAT I LEARNED IN LIFE, Paulo Coelho (August 24, 1947)
Live your life so that when you die, you are the one that is smiling and everyone there is crying.
The happiest people not necessarily have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything that comes their way.
The best future is based on the forgotten past ... you can't go on well in life until you let your past failures and heartaches go away. That no matter how good a person is, sometimes they can hurt you and because of this we must forgive. The circumstances and the environment influence us, but we are the one who is responsible for ourselves. It takes years to build trust and only seconds to destroy it.
We do not have to change friends if we understand that friends change. You have to control your own acts or they will control you. Sometimes the person you think will hurt you and make you fall is instead the one of a few who will help you to get up. It is not always enough to be forgiven by someone, in most cases you have to forgive yourself first. No matter in how many pieces your heart is broken, the world does not stop to fix it. Maybe GOD wants us to meet all the wrong people first before meeting the right one, so when we finally meet the right one we are grateful for that gift.
There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you wish you can take them
out of your dream and hug them for real. It is true we do not know what we have until we have lost it, but it is also true, we do not know what we have been missing until it arrives to us.
It only takes a minute to offend someone, an hour to like someone, a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone. That patience requires much practice. There are people who loves us, but simply do not know how to show it. When the door of happiness closes, another door opens, but often we look so long al the closed one that we do not see what was open for us. Do not look for appearances, they can be deceiving, do not go for wealth, even that can fade.
The best "kind of" a friend is the one with whom you can sit on a porch and then walk without saying a word and when you are leaving the place it feels as it was the best conversation you ever had.
Dream what you want, go wherever you want to go, because you have only one life and only one chance to do the things you want to do.
The happiest people not necessarily have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything that comes their way.
The best future is based on the forgotten past ... you can't go on well in life until you let your past failures and heartaches go away. That no matter how good a person is, sometimes they can hurt you and because of this we must forgive. The circumstances and the environment influence us, but we are the one who is responsible for ourselves. It takes years to build trust and only seconds to destroy it.
We do not have to change friends if we understand that friends change. You have to control your own acts or they will control you. Sometimes the person you think will hurt you and make you fall is instead the one of a few who will help you to get up. It is not always enough to be forgiven by someone, in most cases you have to forgive yourself first. No matter in how many pieces your heart is broken, the world does not stop to fix it. Maybe GOD wants us to meet all the wrong people first before meeting the right one, so when we finally meet the right one we are grateful for that gift.
There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you wish you can take them
out of your dream and hug them for real. It is true we do not know what we have until we have lost it, but it is also true, we do not know what we have been missing until it arrives to us.
It only takes a minute to offend someone, an hour to like someone, a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone. That patience requires much practice. There are people who loves us, but simply do not know how to show it. When the door of happiness closes, another door opens, but often we look so long al the closed one that we do not see what was open for us. Do not look for appearances, they can be deceiving, do not go for wealth, even that can fade.
The best "kind of" a friend is the one with whom you can sit on a porch and then walk without saying a word and when you are leaving the place it feels as it was the best conversation you ever had.
Dream what you want, go wherever you want to go, because you have only one life and only one chance to do the things you want to do.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
DREAMLAND , Edgar Allan Poe (1809 - 1849)
By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only, where a phantom named Night,
on a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands,
but newly from an ultimate dim route; from a wild clime that lies, sublime, Out of Space - Out of Time.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods, and chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
with forms that no man can discover for the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore into seas without a shore;
Seas that restless aspire, surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread their lone waters - lone and dead -
their still waters - still and chilly - with the snows of the lolling lily.
By the Mountains near the river murmuring lowly, murmuring ever. By the gray woods.
By the swamp where the toad and the newt encamp.
By the dismal pools where dwell the Ghouls, - by each spot the most unholy.-
In each nook most melancholy - there the traveller meets aghast sheeted memories of the past.
Shrouded forms that start and sigh as they pass the wanderer by - white- robed forms of friends long given, in agony, to the Earth - and Heaven.
For the heart whose woes are legion, this is a peaceful, soothing region.
For the spirit that walks in shadow this is an Eldorado!
But the traveller, traveling through it, may not dare openly view it!
Never its mysteries are exposed to the weak human eye unclosed;
so wills its King, who has forbid the uplifting of the fringed lid;
and thus the sad soul that here passes, beholds it but through darkened glasses.
By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only, where a phantom named Night,
on a black throne reigns upright, I have wandered home but newly from this ultimate dim route.
on a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands,
but newly from an ultimate dim route; from a wild clime that lies, sublime, Out of Space - Out of Time.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods, and chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
with forms that no man can discover for the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore into seas without a shore;
Seas that restless aspire, surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread their lone waters - lone and dead -
their still waters - still and chilly - with the snows of the lolling lily.
By the Mountains near the river murmuring lowly, murmuring ever. By the gray woods.
By the swamp where the toad and the newt encamp.
By the dismal pools where dwell the Ghouls, - by each spot the most unholy.-
In each nook most melancholy - there the traveller meets aghast sheeted memories of the past.
Shrouded forms that start and sigh as they pass the wanderer by - white- robed forms of friends long given, in agony, to the Earth - and Heaven.
For the heart whose woes are legion, this is a peaceful, soothing region.
For the spirit that walks in shadow this is an Eldorado!
But the traveller, traveling through it, may not dare openly view it!
Never its mysteries are exposed to the weak human eye unclosed;
so wills its King, who has forbid the uplifting of the fringed lid;
and thus the sad soul that here passes, beholds it but through darkened glasses.
By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only, where a phantom named Night,
on a black throne reigns upright, I have wandered home but newly from this ultimate dim route.
MOMENTS / El Ultimo Poema J.L. Borges, (1899 - 1986)
If I could live again my life, in the next, I will try to make more mistakes.
Si pudiera vivir nuevamente mi vida, en la proxima trataria de cometer mas errores.
I won't try to be so perfect, I will be more relaxed. I will be more stupid than I am now.
No intentaria ser tan perfecto, me relajaria mas. Seria mas tonto de lo que he sido.
In fact, I will take fewer things seriously. I will be less hygienic. I will take more risks.
I will take more trips, watch more sunsets, climb more mountains, swim more rivers,
De hecho, tomaria muy pocas cosas con seriedad. Seria menos higienico. Correria mas riesgos.
Haria mas viajes, contemplaria mas atardeceres, subiria mas montanas, nadaria mas rios.
I will go to places that I have never been quite often. I will eat more sweet ice cream than salty beans.
I will have more real problems and less imaginary one.
Iria a mas lugares adonde nunca he ido. Comeria mas dulzura en los helados que lo salado en las habas.
Tendria mas problemas reales y menos imginarios.
I was one of those who live prudent and prolific lives each minute of their lives; of course that I had moments of joy. If you do not know, that is what life is made of only "moments," treasure them and do not lose the "now."
Yo fui uno de ellos que han vivido la vida sensata y prolificamente, por supuesto que he tenido momentos de alegria. por si no lo saben, de estos momentos esta hecha la vida, solo de momentos.
No te pierdas el ahora.
...If I had my life again I will travel light, try to walk bare feet from spring to autumn, play with more children, but now I am 85, and I know that I am dying.
...Si tuviera otra vez la vida por delante viajaria mas liviano, comenzaria a andar descalzo desde la primavera hasta el otono, jugaria con mas ninos, pero ya ven tengo 85 y se que me estoy muriendo.
Si pudiera vivir nuevamente mi vida, en la proxima trataria de cometer mas errores.
I won't try to be so perfect, I will be more relaxed. I will be more stupid than I am now.
No intentaria ser tan perfecto, me relajaria mas. Seria mas tonto de lo que he sido.
In fact, I will take fewer things seriously. I will be less hygienic. I will take more risks.
I will take more trips, watch more sunsets, climb more mountains, swim more rivers,
De hecho, tomaria muy pocas cosas con seriedad. Seria menos higienico. Correria mas riesgos.
Haria mas viajes, contemplaria mas atardeceres, subiria mas montanas, nadaria mas rios.
I will go to places that I have never been quite often. I will eat more sweet ice cream than salty beans.
I will have more real problems and less imaginary one.
Iria a mas lugares adonde nunca he ido. Comeria mas dulzura en los helados que lo salado en las habas.
Tendria mas problemas reales y menos imginarios.
I was one of those who live prudent and prolific lives each minute of their lives; of course that I had moments of joy. If you do not know, that is what life is made of only "moments," treasure them and do not lose the "now."
Yo fui uno de ellos que han vivido la vida sensata y prolificamente, por supuesto que he tenido momentos de alegria. por si no lo saben, de estos momentos esta hecha la vida, solo de momentos.
No te pierdas el ahora.
...If I had my life again I will travel light, try to walk bare feet from spring to autumn, play with more children, but now I am 85, and I know that I am dying.
...Si tuviera otra vez la vida por delante viajaria mas liviano, comenzaria a andar descalzo desde la primavera hasta el otono, jugaria con mas ninos, pero ya ven tengo 85 y se que me estoy muriendo.
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