Friday, February 27, 2015

Dear Ones, Beware of the tiny gods by Hafez


Dear Ones, Beware of the tiny gods frightened men Create To bring anesthetic relief to their sad days.
Hafez

Humanism Quotes by Rumi


I saw many humans on whom there were no clothes, I saw many clothes in which there were no humans.

I am not this Hair, I am not this Skin, I AM THE SOUL That lives within .

Be a lamp, or a lifeboat or a ladder. Help someone's soul heal.Walk out of your house like a shepherd.
Rumi

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Seeking and finding by Hermann Hesse


When someone seeks,then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal.

Seeking means to have a goal; but finding means to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, O worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose.
Hermann Hesse

Wenn jemand sucht, dann geschieht es leicht, dass sein Auge nur noch das Ding sieht, das er sucht, dass er nichts zu finden, nichts in sich einzulassen vermag, weil er nur immer an das Gesuchte denkt, weil er ein Ziel hat, weil er vom Ziel besessen ist. Suchen heisst: ein Ziel haben. Finden aber heisst: frei sein, offen stehen, kein Ziel haben. Du, Ehrwürdiger, bist vielleicht in der Tat ein Sucher, denn, deinem Ziel nachstrebend, siehst du manches nicht, was nah vor deinen Augen steht.
Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

To thine own self be true by William Shakespeare


This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

From Error to Truth by John Locke


It is one thing to show a man that he is in error, and another to put him in possession of truth.
John Locke

A Walk in Nature


Footpaths give a private, human touch to the landscape that roads do not. They are sacred to the human foot. They have the sentiment of domesticity, and suggest the way to cottage doors and to simple, primitive times.

It is not merely by virtue of the sunlight that falls now, and the rain and dew which it brings, that we continue here, but by virtue of the sunlight of æons of past ages.
John Borroughts

Monday, February 23, 2015

The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam

Music:
Seven Cloves-Tatlı Dillim



The Rubáiyát(Quatrains) of Omar Khayyam(Excerpt)
The Persian astronomer,mathematician & poet Omar Khayyam
(1048-1131)

Translated by Hans van Rossum
based on the French translation by Franz Toussaint.
(The original in persian language)

Everyone knows that I never mumbled prayers.
Everyone also knows I never tried to hide my faults.
I don't know whether a higher Judge and a
higher Kindness exist - but still,
I am full of confidence as I have
always been true to myself.

Which is of most value?
To enter a tavern questioning your conscience,or to postrate
In a mosque with a blasted soul?
I do not concern myself with wondering if I have a master and what he will decide of me in the day of judgement.


Look with compassion
at the heavy drinkers. Know, that you too
have your weaknesses. If you want to live in peace
and clarity, then look at the poor and the handicapped
carrying the burden of their misery,
and see how fortunate you are!


Live in such way, that your
righteousness and knowledge does
not trouble others. Be calm and master of yourself.
Don't allow yourself to be aggressive.
If you truly want to live in peace,
smile at your Fate.


How sad, a heart that
does not know how to love, that
does not know what it is to be drunk with love.
If you are not in love, how can you enjoy
the blinding light of the sun,
the soft light of the moon?


This earthen bowl
may have been made from the ashes
of a man in love, suffering under the indifference
of a woman. The ear of the bowl? It was his arm
around the neck of his beloved.


Look at this
infinite season of hope,
of souls impatient to wake up,
of our search for a lonely place rich with scents.
Is each flower the fragrant hand of Moses,
each breeze the breath of Jesus?


Man cannot confidently go his own way
if he has not eaten of the fruits of truth.
Once Truth is glimpsed within the labyrinth of knowledge,
one knows that the days that have passed and the days that
are still to come do not differ from the disappointing
first day after Creation.


Beyond the earth,
beyond the farthest skies
I try to find Heaven and Hell.
Then I hear a solemn voice that says:
"Heaven and hell are inside."


Let's assume that you have finally solved
the riddle of the creation - what's your fate?
Let's assume that you found the deepest layers of
truth - what will be your fate? Let's assume that
you have lived a hundred happy years and
that you will live another hundred -
what will be your fate?


The most outstanding scholars of history
were walking in the darkness of ignorance.
And still, they were considered the torchbearers
of their age. What did they do? They left us
some confused thoughts
and passed away.


My heart asked me:
"I want to know, to understand.
Teach me, Khayyam, you that have worked so hard."
And I replied by saying: "A." And then my heart said:
"Now I know; the A is the first letter of
an infinite number of words."


There are too many tears in my eyes!
The fires of Hell are no more than sparks of fire
as compared to the flames that consume me inside.
Paradise? For me it means
a moment of peace.


Old world, where
the horses of Day and Night
are galloping through, you are like
the old palaces where kings dreamt
of fame and of compassion,
and woke up crying.


The southern wind
has withered the rose
for which the nightingale sang its song.
Should we grieve for that rose or for ourselves?
When death has already paled our cheeks
other roses will be flowering.


Millions of centuries
Have seen dawn, have seen twilight.
Millions of centuries stars have passed through the sky.
Walk the earth cautiously. That lump of soil
you almost trampled down may have been
the eye of a child needing help.


Who knows whether this daffodil,
softly moving on the side of the brook,
touches with its roots the lips of a perished woman.
Let your feet touch the grass lightly. Remind
yourself that that grass grows off the dust
of so many faces shining like tulips.


Listen to what your common sense
tells you all day: "Life is short.
You have nothing in commom with plants
that will grow again
after being pruned."


The old palace of Bahram
is now a refuge for gazelles.
Lions roam where musicians played their songs.
Bahram, who once caught wild donkeys, now sleeps
under that hill where wild donkeys graze.


I am not afraid of death.
I prefer that inevitable event
to the other, forced upon me at the moment
I was born. For what is life? A posession entrusted
to me without my say, and which I will,
time come, give back indifferently.


I received the blow I expected.
My love left me. While she still loved me
it was easy to look down on the importance of her love
and to praise the renouncing of all possessions.
But let this thought comfort me: I was alone,
even while she still loved me.


When your soul and mine
have left our bodies and we are
burried alongside each other,
a Potter may one day mould
the dust of both of us
into the same clay.


Friend, don't plan for tomorrow.
Do you even know whether you can finish the
sentence you've just started? Tomorrow we may
be far away from this caravan and may already have
joined those that died 7000 years ago.


It's long since my childhood joined
all things dead. Springtime of my life, you are
now where all past springs have gone. O, my childhood,
you passed by and I didn't even notice. Your departure was as gradual as the passing of spring - a litle bit each day.


Listen to this great secret:
When the first daybreak brought light
upon earth, Adam had no more power than to
give names to what already was there:
night,death.


Before you can caress a face as beautiful
as a rose, how many thorns you must extract from your flesh?
Look at this comb.It once was a piece of wood.What agony it
suffered when it was cut from its tree.But now it is in full
contact with the sweet-smelling hair of a young woman.


The dome-shaped sky
under which we wander;
I compare it with a magic lantern,
whose lamb is the sun and whose screen
is the world on which our images
are moving.


A rose said: "I am the most beautiful
creation on earth. Would a perfume maker
dare picking me?" Then a nightingale sang:
"One day of happyness is followed
by a year of tears."


Each morning the rose overshadows tulip, hyacinth
and violet with its bright colour.But then the sun rises
and whithers this radiant competitor.Each new morning
my heart feel heavier again,but your glance
makes me forget my sorrows.


How frail is humanity!
How inevitable our fate!
We make promises we don't keep and our
failures leave us indifferent. Myself, I often
act like I am intoxicated. But my excuse is
that I am drunk with love.


Dervish, take off that bright nice-coloured garb,
of which you are so proud, and which you didn't possess
at the time of your birth. Dress yourself instead in the
cloth of the poor. Passers-by may not greet you,
but you will hear the angels sing in your heart.


To a wise man sorrow and joy are inseparable,
as are good and bad. Everything that has a beginning
must have an end. Therefore, do ask yourself whether you have
reason to be happy about the good things that come your way
or to grieve over your unexpected trials.


When you are so full of sorrow
that you can't walk, can't cry anymore,
think about the green foliage that sparkles after
the rain. When the daylight exhausts you, when
you hope a final night will cover the world,
think about the awakening of a young child.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

The Sea Is Only Beautiful If There's a Shore By Patricky Field


Lizzy Gadd photography

The Sea Is Only Beautiful If There's a Shore
Patricky Field

It's scaring enough a wide endless sea,
With no port to cast an anchor,
With no land to rest the steps,
Only the ups and downs of the waves and
The blue that can get your sight so lost…
The sea is only beautiful if there's a shore;
When you observe the blue thru the forest,
And the wind blows towards home,
So you know there'll be a destiny,
There'll be a direction to follow even
If you sail more than one day or one life;
The promise of a new land is your guide,
And you know that the sea is a huge world
That's beautiful only if there's a shore.
As you cry, your tears mix with ocean's water,
There's no consolation when both are so blue;
We need a port, like a lighthouse in the darkness,
To be fine, to be safe, to be better than before,
But the sea is beautiful only if there's a shore

Friday, February 20, 2015

On Heart & Mind by Joseph joubert


Hannah meinhardt photography

We are afraid of having and showing a small mind and we are not afraid of having and showing a small heart.
joseph Joubert

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Become earth by Rumi


How should Spring bring forth a garden on hard stone? Become earth, that you may grow flowers of many colors. For you have been heart-breaking rock. Once, for the sake of experiment,be earth!
Rumi

Ich liebe von Ullrich Schaffer

Ich liebe Gedanken,
die kein Ende haben
und die sich nicht aufhalten lassen
von Regeln und Gesetzen,
sondern die, nur geführt von der Liebe,
ihre eigene Welt schaffen,
in der ich leben und hoffen kann
gegen jede Zerstörung
und gegen die Hoffnungslosigkeit, die sich ausbreitet.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Meditation on Life by Victor Marie Hugo


I feel within me the future life. I am like a forest that has been razed; the new shoots are stronger and brisker. I shall most certainly rise toward the heavens. The sun's rays bathe my head. The earth gives me its generous sap, but the heavens illuminate me with the reflection of worlds unknown.

Some say the soul results merely from bodily powers. Why, then, does my soul become brighter when my bodily powers begin to waste away? Winter is above me, but eternal spring is within my heart. I inhale even now the fragrance of lilacs, violets, and roses, just as I did when I was twenty. The nearer my approach to the end, the plainer is the sound of immortal symphonies of worlds which invite me. It is wonderful yet simple. It is a fairy tale; it is history.

For half a century I have been writing my thoughts in prose and in verse; history, philosophy, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode, and song; all of these have I tried. But I feel that I haven't given utterance to the thousandth part of what lies within me. When I go to the grave I can say as others have said, "I have finished my day's work." But I cannot say,"I have finished my life." My day's work will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley; it is a thoroughfare. It closes on the twilight, but opens on the dawn.
Victor Hugo

The mental Fear by Edward R. Murrow


There is a mental fear, which provokes others of us to see the images of witches in a neighbor's yard and stampedes us to burn down this house. And there is a creeping fear of doubt, doubt of what we have been taught, of the validity of so many things we had long since taken for granted to be durable and unchanging. It has become more difficult than ever to distinguish black from white, good from evil, right from wrong.
Edward R. Murrow, This I Believe

Friday, February 13, 2015

Inspirational poetry of love & the affections of the heart by Rabindranath Tagore:Your Questioning Eyes*For the Union of You and Me*In the dusky path of a dream*Trust Love(Love poems for Valentine's day)

Music:
Richard Clayderman - Nights In White Satin


Luis Valadares Photography

The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes
Rabindranath Tagore


Your questioning eyes are sad. They
seek to know my meaning as the moon
would fathom the sea.
I have bared my life before your
eyes from end to end, with nothing
hidden or held back. That is why you
know me not.
If it were only a gem, I could break
it into a hundred pieces and string
them into a chain to put on your neck.

If it were only a flower, round and
small and sweet, I could pluck it from
its stem to set it in your hair.
But it is a heart, my beloved.
Where are its shores and its bottom?
You know not the limits of this
kingdom, still you are its queen.
If it were only a moment of pleasure
it would flower in an easy smile, and
you could see it and read it in a moment.

If it were merely a pain it would
melt in limpid tears, reflecting its
inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved.
Its pleasure and pain are boundless,
and endless its wants and wealth.
It is as near to you as your life, but
you can never wholly know it.


Gabriela Slegrova Photography

For the Union of You and Me
Rabindranath Tagore

It is for the union of you and me
that there is light in the sky.

It is for the union of you and me
that the earth is decked in dusky green.

It is for the union of you and me
that the night sits motionless
with the world in her arms;

Dawn appears opening the eastern door
with sweet murmurs in her voice.

The boat of hope sails along the currents
of eternity toward that union;

Flowers of the ages are being gathered together
for its welcoming ritual.

It is for the union of you and me
that this heart of mine, in the garb of a bride,

Has proceeded from birth to birth upon the surface
of this ever-turning world to chose the beloved.


In the dusky path of a dream
Rabindranath Tagore

IN the dusky path of a dream
I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.

Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.

She set her lamp down by the portal
and stood before me.

She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked,
"Are you well, my friend?”

I tried to answer,
but our language had been lost and forgotten.

I thought and thought;
our names would not come to my mind.

Tears shone in her eyes.
She held up her right hand to me.
I took it and stood silent.

Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze
and died.



The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love
Rabindranath Tagore


"Trust love even if it brings sorrow.Do not close up your heart."
"Ah no, my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them."

"The heart is only for giving away with a tear and a song,my love."
"Ah no,my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them."

"Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop,while it laughs it dies.
But sorrow is strong and abiding.Let sorrowful love
wake in your eyes."
"Ah no,my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them."

"The lotus blooms in the sight of the sun,and loses all that it has.
It would not remain in bud in the eternal winter mist."
"Ah no, my friend,your words are darkI cannot understand them.

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