I've been tagged. Not sure what that means but, as the saying goes, if you unclench your fist I will extend my hand.
I think it works like this..er...you post a few lines (your own or from a poem or something) that 'rings true for you' (yeah, that's it, or was it that you treat me to a cinnamon roll). Okay, jeez, I'm under pressure already since I'm not sure I even know three live bloggers (damn that Roxana!..probably some ancient Romanian curse on me if I don't comply)
So, I tag Anton, Celia, and Ali Hasnain (if you're still around..do you even have a blog?)
Now, what do I do again?
~~~~~~
Pleasure is the fundamental awareness of reality.
---Hannah A.
There is no moment when I forget you, except the days when I do.
There is no redemption of time, except when there is.
The Door?
First forget what time is
for an hour.
What can you learn by heart? A rose is not a rose, though each thorn draws blood. The rose is but fire, flickering time, sometimes ablaze with longing. The red mourns the loss of the blue. But listen: what once was, always is. Here, love wears forbidden colours; there, across the bridge, through the mist, beyond the garden is a door that leads to a white room. Mark it well.
There, you will find time within time, like silence within silence. And a black mirror. When you look at you, you will think of me, speak our common name. There will be an end to the granting of names. Like two stars in the day, or gold coins on the sand, invisible, except to one another. I will be me, except when I won't. A broken circle, or something that rings true for you.
Coming into the high room again after years
after oceans and shadows of kills and
the sounds of lies
after losses and feet on stairs
after looking and mistakes and forgetting
turning there thinking to find
no one except those I knew
finally I saw you
sitting in white
already waiting
you of whom I had heard
with my own ears since the beginning
for whom more than once
I had opened the door
believing you not far
(quotes from W.S. Merwin and Paul Celan)
Thursday, February 05, 2009
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5 comments:
but b :-) no pressure at all, it is just a game :-) and I don't know any romanian curses, for that you should go to m.c., but I doubt she is still alive :-)
anyway, I see you couldn't bring yourself to post just one line, actually I had tricked myself a little. but how beautifully you did that. I thank you for playing and for finding the words, as always.
(only: I can't believe this, that 'what once was, always is'. I find it incomprehensible that things that once were, cease to be. I will never get used to that).
Roxana, the one line was Hannah's. I was going to pick one from Iris M but this line always gets me. Because it is one line that opens up to the world: proportion, ease, but also the right distance that is required for awareness. And the 'reality' is not something that is distant (I think) but a love, a proper love for the world. And once one says 'for' one says 'volo ut sis' . Yes, on second thoughts, that's what I should have written. There is nothing higher than that, I think.
m.c. lives on. People and things live on-even if it's somewhere else, unknown to us now. Don't you remember your Rumi?...
Every beautiful form you have seen, every meaningful word you have heard-be not sorrowful all this must be lost; such is not really the case. The Divine Source is immortal and its outflowing gives water without cease; since neither the one nor the other can be stopped wherefore do you lament?...from the first moment when you entered this world of existence, a ladder has been set up before you...
oh b, if only he could be my Rumi, in the sense that if only I could follow his words. I know it is so as he tells us, but I can't help feeling the brokenness, and the loss, and there is no comfort about it...
as the indians would say, I guess I need to live some more lives to come to this serene awareness. or like the one Munch reveals in Edith's quote on my blog. but maybe it is so, one has to go through this infinite brokenness and terror (think how he has described his feeling when he first thought about the Scream: I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature)
to eventually reach calmness.
Roxana, you know, I hate that picture. I don't know if one *has* to go through all that. And also, I wonder if that's a very Christian perspective roxana: sin, suffering, brokenness?
gosh, just thinking of that Munch has made me feel depressed!
I'm off for some tea and snacks to munch on (sorry, couldn't resist!)
hi! :-)
b.
b i am so glad you have come to like merwin so much.
and i agree too i hate this picture too and don't like the idea that one has to go through this. kind of masochism, romanticism of suffering... suffering not necessarily brings out the best in people or makes people better and brings them to angelic serenity.
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