'Another Birth'

Digital Photo by Roger Hume

Another BirthPersian : Tavalodi DigarAudio Files: Tavalodi Digar
My whole being is a dark chant
which will carry you
perpetuating you
to the dawn of eternal growths and blossoming
in this chant I sighed you sighed
in this chant
I grafted you to the tree to the water to the fire.

Life is perhaps
 a long street through which a woman holding
 a basket passes every day

Life is perhaps
a rope with which a man hangs himself from a branch
life is perhaps a child returning home from school.
Life is perhaps lighting up a cigarette
in the narcotic repose between two love-makings
or the absent gaze of a passerby
who takes off his hat to another passerby
with a meaningless smile and a good morning .

Life is perhaps that enclosed moment
when my gaze destroys itself in the pupil of your eyes
and it is in the feeling
 which I will put into the Moon's impression
 and the Night's perception.

In a room as big as loneliness
my heart
which is as big as love
looks at the simple pretexts of its happiness
at the beautiful decay of flowers in the vase
at the sapling you planted in our garden
and the song of canaries
which sing to the size of a window.

Ah
this is my lot
this is my lot
my lot is
a sky which is taken away at the drop of a curtain
my lot is going down a flight of disused stairs
a regain something amid putrefaction and nostalgia
my lot is a sad promenade in the garden of memories
and dying in the grief of a voice which tells me
I love
your hands.

I will plant my hands in the garden
I will grow I know I know I know
and swallows will lay eggs
in the hollow of my ink-stained hands.

I shall wear
a pair of twin cherries as ear-rings
and I shall put dahlia petals on my finger-nails
there is an alley
where the boys who were in love with me
still loiter with the same unkempt hair
thin necks and bony legs
and think of the innocent smiles of a little girl
who was blown away by the wind one night.

There is an alley
     which my heart has stolen
     from the streets of my childhood.

The journey of a form along the line of time
inseminating the line of time with the form
a form conscious of an image
coming back from a feast in a mirror
And it is in this way
that someone dies
and someone lives on.

No fisherman shall ever find a pearl in a small brook
which empties into a pool.

I know a sad little fairy
who lives in an ocean
and ever so softly
plays her heart into a magic flute
a sad little fairy
who dies with one kiss each night
and is reborn with one kiss each dawn.

In Flight

image from:Aliceinparis

SWALLOWS travel to and fro,

And the great winds come and go,

And the steady breezes blow,

Bearing perfume, bearing love.

Breezes hasten, swallows fly,

Towered clouds forever ply,

And at noonday, you and I

See the same sunshine above.

Dew and rain fall everywhere,

Harvests ripen, flowers are fair,

And the whole round earth is bare

To the moonshine and the sun;

And the live air, fanned with wings,

Bright with breeze and sunshine, brings

Into contact distant things,

And makes all the countries one.

Let us wander where we will,

Something kindred greets us still;

Something seen on vale or hill

Falls familiar on the heart;

So, at scent or sound or sight,

Severed souls by day and night

Tremble with the same delight -

Tremble, half the world apart.





Robert Louis Stevenson



What is Time?

Time XXI

And an astronomer said, "Master, what of Time?"

And he answered:

You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.

You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.

Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,

And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.

And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.

Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?

And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not form love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?

And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?

But if in you thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,

And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.

Khalil Gibran
All that lives, lives forever.

Only the shell, the perishable, passes away.

The spirit is without end, eternal, deathless.

The spirit is without End...Eternal....Deathless...,---Bhagavad Gita


source

Throw Yourself like Seed

"Throw Yourself Like Seed”

Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit;
Sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate
That brushes your heel as it turns going by,

Now you are only giving food to that final pain
Which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,

The man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.

But to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts
Is the work; start there, turn to the work.

Don’t turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,
And do not let the past weigh down your motion.Leave what’s alive in the furrow, what’s dead in yourself,

For life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;
From your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.

Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,

Miguel de Unamuno

The Definition of Love

The Definition of Love

By Andrew Marvell

Germany

THE DEFINITION OF LOVE. by Andrew Marvell I.MY Love is of a birth as rare     As 'tis, for object, strange and high ; It was begotten by Despair,     Upon Impossibility. II.Magnanimous Despair alone     Could show me so divine a thing, Where feeble hope could ne'er have flown,     But vainly flapped its tinsel wing. III.And yet I quickly might arrive     Where my extended soul is fixed ; But Fate does iron wedges drive,     And always crowds itself betwixt. IV.For Fate with jealous eye does see     Two perfect loves, nor lets them close ; Their union would her ruin be,     And her tyrannic power depose. V.And therefore her decrees of steel     Us as the distant poles have placed, (Though Love's whole world on us doth wheel),     Not by themselves to be embraced, VI.Unless the giddy heaven fall,     And earth some new convulsion tear. And, us to join, the world should all     Be cramp'd into a planisphere. VII.As lines, so love's oblique, may well     Themselves in every angle greet : But ours, so truly parallel,     Though infinite, can never meet. VIII.Therefore the love which us doth bind,     But Fate so enviously debars, Is the conjunction of the mind,     And opposition of the stars.