by Pablo Neruda
Do we learn kindness or the mask of kindness?
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Month: March 2022
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The defects of the mind, like those of the face, grow worse with age. – Francois de La Rochefoucauld
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We are all geniuses up to the age of ten. – Aldous Huxley
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None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm. – Henry David Thoreau
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Last Night, News of My Departed Friend
by Hafez
Last night, news of my departed friend
Was brought to me upon the wind;
Whatever must come, let it come!
I give my heart now to the wind.
My life's in such a state that my
Companions are the vivid flash
Of lightning in the dark of night,
And, as each dawn arrives, the wind.
Lost in the tangles of your hair
My shameless heart has never said,
"Oh, give me back the life I knew
Before I strayed like this, and sinned."
My heart weeps blood remembering you,
Each time I see the meadows where
The budding rose's cloak is loosed
And torn wide open by the wind.
My frail existence vanishes;
But may my sould rejoice again
And see you, and inhale your scent
Brought in the dawn, upon the wind.
Hafez, your noble nature will
Ensure your heart's desire; and may
Our lives be given to such sweetness,
That's borne away, upon the wind.
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TO TELL YOU NOW MY POOR HEART’S STATE
by Hafez
To tell you now my poor heart's state
is what I long for
To hear the news that hearts relate
is what I long for
Look how naive I am! To keep from rivals' ears
A tale the winds disseminate
is what I long for
To sleep a sweet and noble night with you, to sleep
Till morning and to rise up late
is what I long for
And in the darkness of the night, to pierce the pearl
That is so fine and delicate
is what I long for
O morning breeze, abet me now, tonight, because
To blossom as dawn lies in wait
is what I long for
To use the lashes of my eyes, for honor's sake,
To sweep the dust before your gate
is what I long for
Like Hafez, in contempt of prigs, to make the kind
Of poems libertines create
is what I long for
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Happiness is like a butterfly: the more you chase it, the more it will elude you; but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder. – author unknown
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There’s a certain Slant of Light
by Emily Dickenson
There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes – Heavenly Hurt, it gives us – We can find no scar, But internal difference – Where the Meanings, are – None may teach it – Any – 'Tis the seal Despair – An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air – When it comes, the Landscape listens – Shadows – hold their breath – When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death –