13 January 2014
7 January 2014
Ἡ μοίρα μας, χυμένο μολύβι, δὲν μπορεῖ ν᾿ ἀλλάξει.
Ἔχυσαν τὸ μολύβι μέσα στὸ νερὸ κάτω ἀπ' τ᾿ ἀστέρια κι ἂς ἀνάβουν οἱ φωτιές.
Γ. Σεφέρης, Φωτιὲς τοῦ Ἅϊ-Γιάννη
6 January 2014
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
from Sunday Morning
3 January 2014
Strive to discover the mystery before life is taken from you.
If while living you fail to find yourself, to know yourself,
how will you be able to understand
the secret of your existence when you die?
Farid al-Din 'Attar
from Bird Parliament
Farid al-Din 'Attar was born at Nishapur in northern Persia on November 12, 1119, but sources on his date of death vary from 1193 to 1234. He is one of the most ancient poets of Persia. He has provided the inspiration for Rumi and many other poets. Attar met Rumi at the end of his life when Rumi was only a boy and gave his book Asrarnameh (The Book of secrets) as a present to him. (text from http://allpoetry.com/)