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Sunday, July 10, 2011

Ono no Komachi


Selected Poems



1
Though I go to you
ceaselessly along dream paths,
the sum of those trysts
is less than a single glimpse
granted in the waking world.

2
How sad,
the end that waits me -
to think at last
I'll be a mere haze
pale green over the fields.

3
Blossoms blooming
Yet making no seed are
The sea-god's
Garlanded
Whitecaps offshore.

4
On such a night as this
When no moon lights your way to me,
I wake, my passion blazing,
My breast a fire raging, exploding flame
While within me my heart chars.

5
The flowers withered
Their color faded away
While meaninglessly
I spent my days in the world
And the long rains were falling.

6
A thing which fades
With no outward sign
Is the flower
of the heart of man
In this world!

7
Whose bloom will fade,
And yet the color does not show,
Is this alone:
In the world of love the flower
That opens in the human heart.

8
In this bay
There is no seaweed
Doesn't he know it -?
The fisherman who persists in coming
Until his legs grow weary?

9
More heart-wrenching than
To sear my body with live coals
Against my flesh,
Bidding farewell on Miyakoshima's shore
As you part for the capital.

10
Did he appear,
because I fell asleep
thinking of him?
If only I'd known I was dreaming
I'd never have wakened.

11
The autumn night
is long only in name -
We've done no more
than gaze at each other
and it's already dawn.

12
When longing for him
tortures me beyond endurance,
I reverse my robe -
Garb of night, black as leopard-flower berries -
And wear it inside out.

13
Since encountering my beloved
While I dozed,
I have begun to feel
that it is dreams, not reality,
on which I can rely.

14
Tears that but form gems on sleeves
Must come, I think,
from an insincere heart,
for mine, though I seek to repress them,
gush forth in torrents.

15
Yielding to a love
that knows no limit,
I shall go to him by night -
for the world does not yet censure
those who tread the paths of dreams.

16
I know nothing
about villages
where fisher folk dwell;
why must you keep demanding
to be shown the seashore?

17
Now that I am entering
the winter of life,
your ardor has faded
like foliage ravaged
by late autumn rains.

18
How bitter it is to see
autumnal blasts
strike the rice ears;
I shall, I fear,
reap no harvest.

19
This body
grown fragile, floating,
a reed cut from its roots...
If a stream would ask me
to follow, I'd go, I think.

20
Men call love
Is simply
a chain
preventing escape
from this world of care.

21
His heart, grown cold,
has become my body's autumn.
Many sorrowful words
may yet fall
like the rustling leaves.

22
I thought to pick
the flower of forgetting
for myself,
but I found it
already growing in his heart.

23
Those gifts you left
have become my enemies:
without them
there might have been
a moment's forgetting.

24
Submit to you -
could that be what you are saying?
The way ripples on the water
submit to an idling wing?

25
The pine tree by the rock
must have its memories too:
after a thousand years,
see how its branches
lean toward the ground.

26
The hunting lanterns
on mount Ogura have gone,
the deer are calling for their mates...
How easily I might sleep
if only I didn't share their fears.

27
Since this body
was forgotten
by the one who promised to come,
my only thought is wondering
whether it even exists.

28
This abandoned house
shining
in the mountain village -
how many nights
has autumn spent there?

29
If, in an autumn field,
a hundred flowers
can untie their streamers,
may I not also openly frolic,
as fearless of blame?

30
While watching
the long rains falling on this world
my heart, too, fades
with the unseen color
of the spring flowers.

31
Seeing the moonlight
spilling down
through these trees,
my heart fills to the brim
with autumn.

32
Upon my breast
floats a boat of heartbreak
and I have just embarked;
there's not a single day when waves
do not soak my sleeves.

Ono no Komachi
(c. 825—c. 900)

Ono no Komachi (小野小町?, c. 825—c. 900) was a famous Japanese waka poet, one of the Rokkasen—the Six best Waka poets of the early Heian period. She was noted as a rare beauty; Komachi is a symbol of a beautiful woman in Japan. She is also numbered as one of the Thirty-six Poetry Immortals.
The place of Komachi's birth and death is uncertain. According to one tradition, she was born in what is now Akita Prefecture, daughter of Yoshisada, "Lord of Dewa". Her social status is also uncertain. She may have been a low-ranking consort or a lady-in-waiting of an emperor, possibly Emperor Ninmyō (r. 833-850).
As a poet, Komachi specialized in erotic love themes, expressed in complex poems. Most of her waka are about anxiety, solitude or passionate love. She is the only female poet referred to in the preface of the Kokin Wakashū, which describes her style as "containing naivety in old style but also delicacy".
There are legends about Komachi in love. The most famous is a story about her relationship with Fukakusa no Shosho, a high-ranking courtier. Komachi promised that if he visited her continuously for a hundred nights, then she would become his lover. Fukakusa no Shosho visited her every night, but failed once towards the end. Despairing, he fell ill and subsequently died. When Komachi learned of his death she was overcome with sadness.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Life Style

Do you call this life?



All the other methods we use for self change could be compared to pushing a car.

Let's suppose you have to travel to a distant city.

The car breaks down along the way.

Well, too bad; the car's broken down.

So we roll up our sleeves and begin to push the car.

And we push and push and push and push, till we get to the distant city.

"Well," we say, "we made it."

And then we push the car all the way to another city! You say,

"We got there, didn't we?"

But do you call this life?

You know what you need?

You need an expert, you need a mechanic to lift the hood and change the spark plug.

Turn the ignition key and the car moves.

You need the expert - you need understanding, insight, awareness you don't need pushing.



Awareness

Anthony de Mello

Friday, July 1, 2011

The Wine of Love


The Wine of Love

Of the Wine of Love

quench me!

And the sorrows of my heart

will be forgotten

An Existence without love

A creek without water

Goddess with the aurora face

You are the Path of Hope

inebriate me kissing my soul!

For kisses are the Wine of soul

If you bestow lavishly

Then unite me!

Like the lovers

Or if you believe it better,

then lament me

Under the shades of Jasmine


The Lyrics of an Arabic folk poem

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Effect of words


The Effect of words

A guru was once attempting to explain to a crowd how human beings react to words, feed on words, live on words, rather than on reality.
One of the men stood up and protested; he said, "I don't agree that words have all that much effect on us."
The guru said, "Sit down, you son of a bitch."
The man went livid with rage and said,
"You call yourself an enlightened person, a guru, a master, but you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
The guru then said, "Pardon me, sir, I was carried away.
I really beg your pardon; that was a lapse; I'm sorry."
The man finally calmed down.
Then the guru said,
"It took just a few words to get a whole tempest going within you;
and it took just a few words to calm you down, didn't it?"

How many people spend their lives not eating food but eating the menu?
A menu is only an indication of something that's available.
You want to eat the steak, not the words.
Words, words, words, words,
how imprisoning they are if they're not used properly.

Awareness
Anthony de Mello

Monday, June 13, 2011

Patriotism!


Patriotism!



I was told a lovely story about a farmer in Finland.

When they were drawing up the Russian-Finnish border, the farmer had to decide whether he wanted to be in Russia or Finland.

After a long time he said he wanted to be in Finland, but he didn't want to offend the Russian officials.

These came to him and wanted to know why he wanted to be in Finland.

The farmer replied,

"It has always been my desire to live in Mother Russia,

but at my age I wouldn't be able to survive another Russian winter."




Awareness
Anthony de Mello

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Laughing


Laughing

 

Echo of my body

Tree of deserted houses

She who chooses among my words

The words i myself have chosen

When I hear her name I forget all words
She is my sorrow and my knowledge

Bride of spirit and instincts

Mother of desires

Mute cry

Stars of my night

She who carries my sword and its wreckage

She who knows how to tame

Who surpasses the flowers in the orchards

Who vanquishes the fruits of wilderness

Blue lily of melancholy

Laughing Laughing Laughing


 
Ounsi el-Hajj

 

- Born in 1937.
- Son of journalist and translator Louis El Hage, and of Marie Akl, from Kaitouli, Jezzine (South of Lebanon).
- Did his school studies in the "Lycée français", then in "La Sagesse" High School.
- Began to publish short stories, essays and poems in literary magazines since 1954, while he was still a high school student.
- Started exercising daily journalism professionally
in Al Hayat in 1956, as director of the cultural page. Then he moved to An Nahar
newspaper, where he edited for years the non political pages, and transformed
the daily cultural column into a daily cultural page.

- In 1964, he founded and published "Al Mulhaq", the weekly cultural supplement of An Nahar newspaper, until 1974, with the cooperation of Chawki Abi Chakra during the first half of the above-mentioned period.

- In 1957, he contributed with Youssef Khal and Adonis to the foundation of the poetry magazine "Shi'r", and in 1960 he published in the latter's editions his first poetry book, "Lan", the first compilation of poems in prose in Arabic language.
- Published six compilations of poetry: Lan (1960), The chopped head (1963), The past of forthcoming days (1965), What have you made with the gold what have you done with the rose (1970), The Messenger with her hair long until the sources (1975), The banquet (1994).
- Also published a book of essays in 3 volumes under the title of "Words, words, words", and a book of philosophical contemplations and aphorisms in two volumes: "Khawatem". The third volume of Khawatem is to appear soon, as well as a set of unpublished works.
- Was editor-in-chief of several magazines, simultaneously with his permanent work in An Nahar, among which "Al Hasna" magazine in 1966 and "Arab and international Nahar" between 1977 and 1989.
- Starting 1963, he translated more than ten plays of Shakespeare, Ionesco, Camus and Brecht into Arabic, plays that have been staged by the school of modern acting (Baalbek festival) as well as by directors Nidal Al Ashkar, Roger Assaf and Berge Vaslian.
- Married to Layla Daou (since 1957), father of Nada and Louis.
- Editor-in-chief of An Nahar newspaper from 1992 till September 30, 2003.
- A choice of his poems has been translated into French, English, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Armenian and Finnish.
- An anthology of his poetry, "Flying eternity", was published in French by the publishing house "Actes Sud" in Paris in 1997, and another anthology entitled "Love and the fox, Love and the others", appeared in a bilingual German /Arabic edition in Berlin in 1998. The first was supervised and introduced by Abdel Kader Janabi, and the second translated by Khaled Al Maali and Herbert Becker.
-Summarizing his biography to answer a question by Professors Nabil Ayoub, Hind Adib d'Orléans and George Kallas in the setting of an interview edited by poet Elias Lahoud in the "contemporary writings" magazine (issue 38 - August / September 1999), Ounsi El Hage declared:
"I often told the same history. I don't believe that it is of any interest to anyone. I have more remorse than achievements, and all that I have done I did without my knowledge. When nobody used to ask me for my opinion on things, such as love and death, I willingly said the truth, but then I stopped saying it as soon as there was someone to ask".

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Enculturation



Enculturation

Nowadays, in Third World countries, we talk a great deal about "enculturation."
What is this thing called "culture"?
I'm not very happy with the word.
Does it mean you'd like to do something because you were conditioned to do it?
That you'd like to feel something because you were conditioned to feel it?
Isn't that being mechanical?
Imagine an American baby that is adopted by a Russian couple and taken to Russia.
It has no notion that it was born American.
It's brought up talking Russian; it lives and dies for Mother Russia; it hates Americans.
The child is stamped with his own culture; it's steeped in its own literature.
It looks at the world through the eyes of its culture.
Now, if you want to wear your culture the way you wear your clothes, that's fine.
The Indian woman would wear a sari and the American woman would wear something else, the Japanese woman would wear her kimono.
But nobody identifies herself with the clothes.
But you do want to wear your culture more intently.
You become proud of your culture.
They teach you to be proud of it.

Awareness
Anthony de Mello

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Words value



Cultural conditioning

Something more about words.
I said to you earlier that words are limited.
There is more I have to add.
There are some words that correspond to nothing.
For instance, I'm an Indian.
Now, let's suppose that I'm a prisoner of war in Pakistan, and they say to me, "Well, today we're going to take you to the frontier, and you're going to take a look at your country."
So they bring me to the frontier, and I look across the border, and I think,
"Oh, my country, my beautiful country.
I see villages and trees and hills. This is my own, my native land!"
After a while one of the guards says,
"Excuse me, we've made a mistake here.
We have to move up another ten miles."
What was I reacting to?
Nothing.
I kept focusing on a word, India.
But trees are not India; trees are trees.
In fact, there are no frontiers or boundaries.
They were put there by the human mind; generally by stupid, avaricious politicians.
My country was one country once upon a time; it's four now.
If we don't watch out it might be six.
Then we'll have six flags, six armies.
That's why you'll never catch me saluting a flag.
I abhor all national flags because they are idols.
What are we saluting?
I salute humanity, not a flag with an army around it.

Awareness
Anthony de Mello

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

The right note


I've found it!

One day Nasr-ed-Din was strumming a guitar, playing just one note.
After a while a crowd collected around him (this was in a marketplace) and one of the men sitting on the ground there said,
That's a nice note you're playing,
Mullah, but why don't you vary it a bit the way other musicians do?"
"Those fools," Nasr-ed-Din said,
"they're searching for the right note.
I've found it.

Awareness
Anthony de Mello