Friday, November 02, 2007

Dear Reader(s)

Dear reader, hello. If you have a bit of a poem you love or a passage from a book, a quote from a film, or anything else you want to share please send it this way.

Salaams,

b.

----

Thanks. Will post them soon. I will keep this page safe, the signatures of those who help me find my own name. Danke!

------

Celia:
'Sunt lacrimae rerum and mentem mortalis tangent' - who has ever managed to translate that in any meaningful way, but the Latin says it all and will haunt me until I die.

‘In freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbraelustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascet,semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt,quae me cumque vocant terrae.'


Astarte:

"...I wrote at the start that this was a record of hate and walking there beside Henry towards the evening glass of beer, I found the one prayer that seemed to serve the winter mood:O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I am too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever."

---Graham Greene.The End of the Affair.


Kinkminos:


“Questioned by his earthname as to his whereabouts in the heaven-world he stated that he was now on the path of prālāyā or return but was still submitted to trial at the hands of certain bloodthirsty entities on the lower astral levels. In reply to a question as to his first sensations in the great divide beyond he stated that previously he had seen as in a glass darkly but that those who had passed over had summit possibilities of atmic development opened up to them. Interrogated as to whether life there resembled our experience in the flesh he stated that he had heard from more favoured beings now in the spirit that their abodes were equipped with every modern home comfort such as tālāfānā, ālāvātār, hātākāldā, wātāklāsāt and that the highest adepts were steeped in waves of volupcy of the very purest nature.”

Ulysses, James Joyce

8 comments:

Raza Rumi said...

and what about your musings my dear sage??

I will send thee something soon for sharing

salaams

Celia said...

The Holiday

Time is passing now
And will come soon
When you will be able to go home.

The malice and the misunderstanding
The loneliness and pain
Ned not in this case, if you are careful,
come again.

Say goodbye to the holiday, then,
To the peace you did not know,
And to the friends who had power over you,
Say goodbye and go.
Stevie Smith

billoo said...

Danke, C.

I was hoping for something that was your all-time favourite, something to which you turn again, and again..

Scchuon once said that the verses of the Qur'an were like talismans, something around which one could weave a life. I was thinking on those lines: are there any words, fragments which you 'sure up against the ruins', that have some sort of magical quality?

I was half-expecting the Dougal to send word..Hopkins, or, the inevitable: Lear.

What is 'half-expectancy' anyway?

And I see these other dots on my map, and refuse to believe that these are a mirage in the desert..

So, for example, what does someone in Iceland, NZ, or Brazil have to say?

Celia said...

Oh, alright, Billo. Here is something 'talasmanic' for you - my 'must-have' poem of all time:

Sailing to Byzantium
W.B.Yeats

That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.


An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.


O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.


Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

But as for 'fragments':

'Sunt lacrimae rerum and mentem mortalis tangent' - who has ever managed to translate that in any meaningful way, but the Latin says it all and will haunt me until I die.

Also:

‘In freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbrae
lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascet,
semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt,
quae me cumque vocant terrae.'

Both from Virgil: Aeniad. Book 1.

Sadia Ajaz said...

"...I wrote at the start that this was a record of hate and walking there beside Henry towards the evening glass of beer, I found the one prayer that seemed to serve the winter mood:
O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I am too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever."

Graham Greene.
The End of the Affair.

kinkminos said...

“When the going gets weird
the weird turn pro.”
Raoul Duke
aka Dr Gonzo
aka h.s.t.

-----

(a congenital, lifelong, rank amateur, i am now poised to turn professional)

kinkminos said...

“Questioned by his earthname as to his whereabouts in the heaven-world he stated that he was now on the path of prālāyā or return but was still submitted to trial at the hands of certain bloodthirsty entities on the lower astral levels. In reply to a question as to his first sensations in the great divide beyond he stated that previously he had seen as in a glass darkly but that those who had passed over had summit possibilities of atmic development opened up to them. Interrogated as to whether life there resembled our experience in the flesh he stated that he had heard from more favoured beings now in the spirit that their abodes were equipped with every modern home comfort such as tālāfānā, ālāvātār, hātākāldā, wātāklāsāt and that the highest adepts were steeped in waves of volupcy of the very purest nature.”

Ulysses
James Joyce

Celia said...

'Create against destruction...'
Anais Nin