Saturday, May 12, 2018

You would not be without friends by harlotte Bronte


If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked,
while your own conscience approved you, and absolved
you from guilt, you would not be without friends.
Charlotte Bronte,Jane Eyre

Love of Nature in me by John ruskin,


My entire delight was in observing without being myself noticed,—
if I could have been invisible, all the better. I was absolutely
interested in men and their ways, as I was interested in marmots
and chamois, in tomtits and trout.

If only they would stay still and let me look at them, and not get
into their holes and up their heights! The living inhabitation of
the world — the grazing and nesting in it, — the spiritual power
of the air, the rocks, the waters, to be in the midst of it, and
rejoice and wonder at it,and help it if I could, — happier if
it needed no help of mine, —

this was the essential love of Nature in me, this the root of all
that I have usefully become, and the light of all that I have rightly learned.
John ruskin,Praeterita

Friday, May 11, 2018

Why poetry and philosophy are nothing but dead-letter nowadays? by André Gide


Do you know the reason why poetry and philosophy
are nothing but dead-letter nowadays?

It is because they have severed themselves from life.
In Greece, ideas went hand-in-hand with life; so that the artist's
life was already a poetic realisation, the philosopher's life
a putting into action of his philosophy; in this way, as both philosophy
and poetry took part in life, instead of remaining unacquainted with each other,
philosophy provided food for poetry, and poetry gave expression to philosophy
- and the result was admirably persuasive.

Nowadays beauty no longer acts;
action no longer desires to be beautiful;
and wisdom works in a sphere apart.
André Gide

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Feeling Different by André Gide


The part in each of us that we feel is different from other people
is just the part that is rare, the part that makes our special value -
and that is the very thing people try to suppress.
They go on imitating. And yet they think they love life.
André Gide, The Immoralist

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Hope springs eternal by Alexander Pope


Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never is, but always to be blessed:
The soul, uneasy and confined from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Alexander Pope

That's the way life is by Eugène Ionesco


That's not it at all. You always have a tendency to add.
But one must be able to subtract too. It's not enough to
integrate, you must also disintegrate. That's the way life is.
That's philosophy. That's science. That's progress, civilization.
Eugène Ionesco

Thursday, April 26, 2018

The Life of Love BY Khalil Gibran

Music:
HAUSER - Oblivion (Piazzolla)


The Life of Love
Khalil Gibran


Spring

Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its
Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys.
Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the
Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw
Inspiration high above the cool green plains.

Dawn of Spring has unfolded her winter-kept garment
And placed it on the peach and citrus trees; and
They appear as brides in the ceremonial custom of
the Night of Kedre.

The sprigs of grapevine embrace each other like
Sweethearts, and the brooks burst out in dance
Between the rocks, repeating the song of joy;
And the flowers bud suddenly from the heart of
Nature, like foam from the rich heart of the sea.

Come, my beloved; let us drink the last of Winter's
Tears from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds, and wander
In exhilaration through the intoxicating breeze.

Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide; let us
Pursue their exchange of the sweetness of kisses.


Summer

Let us go into the fields, my beloved, for the
Time of harvest approaches, and the sun's eyes
Are ripening the grain.

Let us tend the fruit of the earth, as the
Spirit nourishes the grains of Joy from the
Seeds of Love, sowed deep in our hearts.

Let us fill our bins with the products of
Nature, as life fills so abundantly the
Domain of our hearts with her endless bounty.

Let us make the flowers our bed, and the
Sky our blanket, and rest our heads together
Upon pillows of soft hay.

Let us relax after the day's toil, and listen
To the provoking murmur of the brook.


Autumn

Let us go and gather grapes in the vineyard
For the winepress, and keep the wine in old
Vases, as the spirit keeps Knowledge of the
Ages in eternal vessels.

Let us return to our dwelling, for the wind has
Caused the yellow leaves to fall and shroud the
Withering flowers that whisper elegy to Summer.
Come home, my eternal sweetheart, for the birds
Have made pilgrimage to warmth and lest the chilled
Prairies suffering pangs of solitude. The jasmine
And myrtle have no more tears.

Let us retreat, for the tired brook has
Ceased its song; and the bubblesome springs
Are drained of their copious weeping; and
Their cautious old hills have stored away
Their colorful garments.

Come, my beloved; Nature is justly weary
And is bidding her enthusiasm farewell
With quiet and contented melody.


Winter

Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.

Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.

Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.

Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.

Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.

You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!

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