Re: Κάτι λίγο...ποιητικό... 21 από maria93 O me, man of slack faith so long, Standing aloof, denying portions so long, Only aware to-day of compact all-diffused truth, Discovering to-day there is no lie or form of lie, and can be none, but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself, Or as any law of the earth or any natural production of the earth does. (This is curious and may not be realized immediately, but it must be realized, I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest, And that the universe does.) Where has fail'd a perfect return indifferent of lies or the truth? Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man? or in the meat and blood? Meditating among liars and retreating sternly into myself, I see that there are really no liars or lies after all, And that nothing fails its perfect return, and that what are called lies are perfect returns, And that each thing exactly represents itself and what has preceded it, And that the truth includes all, and is compact just as much as space is compact, And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but that all is truth without exception; And henceforth I will go celebrate any thing I see or am, And sing and laugh and deny nothing. Walt Whitman http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Whitman Jealousy is the fear or apprehension of superiority: envy our uneasiness under it. -William Shenstone ΠαράθεσηΤρί 18 Φεβ 2014, 8:54 pm
Re: Κάτι λίγο...ποιητικό... 22 από juliette22 One Art The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. Elizabeth Bishop 9 για το carefree και το κοινωνικό μήνυμα ΠαράθεσηΤετ 26 Φεβ 2014, 4:15 am
Re: Κάτι λίγο...ποιητικό... 23 από maria93 Before Summer Rain Suddenly, from all the green around you, something-you don't know what-has disappeared; you feel it creeping closer to the window, in total silence. From the nearby wood you hear the urgent whistling of a plover, reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome: so much solitude and passion come from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide away from us, cautiously, as though they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying. And reflected on the faded tapestries now; the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long childhood hours when you were so afraid. Rainer Maria Rilke Jealousy is the fear or apprehension of superiority: envy our uneasiness under it. -William Shenstone ΠαράθεσηΣάβ 08 Μαρ 2014, 4:29 pm