""Sublime Generosity", Fierce Like a Lion - Rumi -

I was dead, then alive. 

Weeping, then laughing. 

The power of love came into me, 

and I became fierce like a lion, 

then tender like the evening star.

Love said me , "You're not mad enough.

You don't belong in this house."

I went wild and had to be tied up.

Love said, "Still not wild enough

to stay with us!"

I broke through another layer

into joyfulness.

Love said, "It's not enough."

I died.

Love said, "You're a clever little man,

full of fantasy and doubting."

I plucked out my feathers and became a fool.

Love said, "Now you're the candle

for this assembly."

But I'm no candle. Look!

I'm scattered smoke.

Love said, "You are the sheikh, the guide."

But I'm not a teacher, I have no power.

Love said, "You already have wings.

I cannot give you wings."

But I wanted his wings.

I felt like some flightless chicken.

Then new events said to me,

"Don't move. A sublime generosity is

coming toward you."

And old love said to me , "Stay with me."

I said, "I will."

You are the fountain of the sun's light.

I am a willow shadow on the ground.

You make my raggedness silky.

The soul at dawn is like darkened water

that slowly begins to say "Thank you, thank you."

Then at sunset, again, Venus gradually

changes into the moon and then the whole night sky.

This comes of smiling back 

at your smile.

The chess master says nothing,

other than moving the silent chess piece.

That I am part of the ploys

of this game makes me

amazingly happy.

- Rumi -

-- Version by Colman Barks

"The Essential Rumi"

Love Letter Form Gibran To May "Mary" Ziadeh & About Love & Hate

                                      

A woman said unto a man, "I love you." And the man said, "It is in my heart to be worthy of your love." 
Ant he woman said, "You love me not?" 
And the man only gazed upon her and said nothing. 
Then the woman cried aloud, "I hate you." 
And the man said, "Then it is also in my heart to be worthy of your hate." 

I Miss You so Much - Rumi -

A Portrait  by Kahlil Gibran .

If the wind had taken me to you,

I would have held tight to the skirts of the wind.

I miss you so much that I would fly to you faster than a bird;

But how can a bird with a clipped wing fly”

*

You left and I cried tears of blood. 

My sorrow grows. 

Its not just that You left. 

But when You left my eyes went with You. 

Now, how will I cry?

*

In the early dawn of happiness

you gave me three kisses

so that I would wake up

to this moment of love

Between my love and my heart

things were happening which

slowly slowly

made me recall everything

You amuse me with your touch

although I can’t see your hands.

You have kissed me with tenderness

although I haven’t seen your lips

You are hidden from me.

*

My Friend - Gibran -

"My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee

understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand." - Gibran -

My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear--

a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

The 'I' in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and

therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I

do--for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my

deeds thy own hopes in action.

When thou sayest, 'The wind bloweth eastward,' I say, 'Aye it doth

blow eastward'; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth

not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.

Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have

thee understand. I would be at sea alone.

When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even

then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of

the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou

canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating

against the stars--and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I

would be with night alone.

When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell--even then

thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, 'My companion, my

comrade,' and I call back to thee, 'My comrade, my companion'--for

I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight

and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too

well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone.

Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake

say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart

I laught at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter.

I would laugh alone.

My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art

perfect--and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And

yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.

My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee

understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand

in hand.

- Gibran -

A Bridge to Older Posts ....

A Bridge to Older Posts .... : 

1. Definition of Critical Thinking
2. The Funeral Oration , Pericles
3. Immanuel Kant Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Ske...
4. Realpolitik
5. Ian Shapiro's Democratic Justice
6. ‘The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbab...
7. The Spoils of Happiness
8. What Is a Philosopher?
9. Politics of Recognition , Dr. Amy Gutmann
10. The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus
11. On Forgiveness By CHARLES L. GRISW
12. How it all began - A concise history of Lebanon
13. Marcus Aurelius on Embracing Mortality and the Key to Living with Presence
14. The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus - Book V -
15. The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus . -Book VI-
16. A Real Science of Mind - Tyler Burge & Out of Our ...
17. The Shortness of Life -Seneca-
18. Individual vs. the Crowd, and the Power of the Min...
19. The Lesson History Teaches Is Tragic - By Robert ...
20. We Don’t Actually Want to Be Happy - By Jonathan R...
21. The Beauty of the Ordinary -Pico Iyer- NYT , The ...
22. Even Physicists Don’t Understand Quantum Mechanics...
23. Eating the Sun: the Science of How the Universe Wo...
24. Matthew 23 King James Version (KJV)
25. A Philosopher on Brain Rest - Megan Craig - NYT's ...
26. Democracy Is for the Gods - Costica Bradatan - NYT...
27. On Justice & Injustice - Plato, Republic ..
28. The Four Desires Driving All Human Behavior. -Bert...
29. Philosophy, Life and Philosophies of Life
30. Søren Kierkegaard On Procrastination
31. Just War Theory - Encyclopedia of Philosophy , Ale...
32. The Just War - Thomas Aquinas
33. Principles of the Just War
34. The Church's Just War Theory - Parts 1 & 2
35. A New Refutation of Time - Jorge Luis Borges -
36. Looking Death in the Face
37. Out of Our Brains By ANDY CLARK - The Stone NYT -
38. Is the ‘Dumb Jock’ Really a Nerd? - The Stone, NYT -
39. The Sacred Spell of Words - From The Stone NYT -
40. On Loneliness ..Olivia Laing ( From The Lonely City )
41. The Uncertainty Principle ...Werner Heisenberg
42. Richard Feynman on the Life-Expanding Common Groun...
43. My Perception and Your Reality - Nietzsche -
44. Hermann Hasse On Solitude
45. Some Machiavelli ,CONCERNING CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY,...
46. What ‘Justice’ Really Means
47. A God Problem
48. Simone de Beauvoir on How Chance and Choice Conver...
49. Christopher Hitchens on Mortality
50. Reclaiming the Imagination
51. St Thomas Aquinas' Conditions for a Just War

Unzeizable

In every boat, there's a forest sleeping
In every high tide, there's a moon smiling
In every drop of rain, there's a cloud traveling
In every grain of sand, there's a shore resting
In every scar, there's a knife sparkling
In every fruit, there's a tree singing
In every cat, there's a panther roaring
In every window, there's a dream calling
In every thirst, there's a fountain blooming
In every hand, there's a caress waiting
In every tunnel, there's a promise walking
In every silence, there's a word hiding
In every eye, there's a fire burning
In every heart, there's another heart beating


...And the world
(and you in it)
is an infinite matryoshka doll:
No beginning, no end.
What you'll find will forever slip away from your fingers,
And every morning
there's a new you
beginning.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree. -Emily Bronte-

Autumn Leaves - Eva Cassidy

Bou Elias ..

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree. » 

- Emily Bronte - 

The falling leaves drift by my window

The falling leaves of red and gold

I see your lips the summer kisses

The sunburned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long

And soon I'll hear old winter's song

But I miss you most of all my darling

When autumn leaves start to fall

Since you went away the days grow long

And soon I'll hear old winter's song

But I miss you most of all my darling

When autumn leaves start to fall

I miss you most of all my darling

When autumn leaves start to fall

***

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux - Louis Aragon

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux 

- Louis Aragon -

Rien n'est jamais acquis à l'homme. Ni sa force

Ni sa faiblesse ni son cœur. Et quand il croit

Ouvrir ses bras son ombre est celle d'une croix

Et quand il croit serrer son bonheur il le broie

Sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux

Sa vie elle ressemble à ces soldats sans armes

Qu'on avait habillés pour un autre destin

A quoi peut leur servir de ce lever matin

Eux qu'on retrouve au soir désarmés incertains

Dites ces mots ma vie et retenez vos larmes

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux

Mon bel amour mon cher amour ma déchirure

Je te porte dans moi comme un oiseau blessé

Et ceux-là sans savoir nous regardent passer

Répétant après moi les mots que j'ai tressés

Et qui pour tes grands yeux tout aussitôt moururent

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux

Le temps d'apprendre à vivre il est déjà trop tard

Que pleurent dans la nuit nos cœurs à l'unisson

Ce qu'il faut de malheur pour la moindre chanson

Ce qu'il faut de regrets pour payer un frisson

Ce qu'il faut de sanglots pour un air de guitare

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux

Il n'y a pas d'amour qui ne soit à douleur

Il n'y a pas d'amour dont on ne soit meurtri

Il n'y a pas d'amour dont on ne soit flétri

Et pas plus que de toi l'amour de la patrie

Il n'y a pas d'amour qui ne vive de pleurs

Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux

Mais c'est notre amour à tous deux

Your Home / My Thief- Rumi-

Your Home ..

I asked, "Where is your home, beautiful moon?"

She said, "In the wreck of your drunken heart.

I am the sun shining into your ruin.

Long may you call this wild wasteland your home."

*

My Thief ..

With a smile biting those two ruby lips,

How beautifully, idol, you've come to life!

Stealing my heart that day was not enough;

Today you're back, intent upon my life.

-Rumi-

If , Rudyard Kipling

If .....

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; 

If you can dream and not make dreams your master;

If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same:

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings,

And never breathe a word about your loss:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!