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#2849 - Wednesday, June 20, 2007 - Editor: Gloria Lee  

Nondual Highlights 

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights     

"A poet's work is to name the unnamable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep."

--Salman Rushdie



  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZgfUeYXDAo   

Cosmos, posted by Ben Hassine  


  Proverbs and Songs by Antonio Machado   Dedicated to Jose Ortega y Gasset



I
     The eye you see is not
an eye because you see it;
it is an eye because it sees you.

II
     To talk with someone,
ask a question first,
then -- listen.

III
     Narcissism
is an ugly fault,
and now it's a boring fault too.

IV
     But look in your mirror for the other one,
the other one who walks by your side.

V
     Between living and dreaming
there is a third thing.
Guess it.

VI
     This Narcissus of ours
can't see his face in the mirror
because he has become the mirror.

VII
     New century? Still
firing up the same forge?
Is the water still going along in its bed?

VIII
     Every instant is Still.

IX
     The sun in Aries. My window
is open to the cool air.
Oh the sound of the water far off!
The evening awakens the river.

X
     In the old farmhouse
-- a high tower with storks! --
the gregarious sound falls silent,
and in the field where no on is,
water makes a sound among the rocks.

XI
     Just as before, I'm interested
in water held in;
but now water in living
rock of my chest.

XII
     When you hear water, does its sound tell you
if it's from a mountain or farm,
city street, formal garden, or orchard?

XIII
     What I find surprises me:
leaves of the garden balm
smell of lemonwood.

XIV
     Don't trace out your profile,
forget your side view --
all that is outer stuff.

XV
     Look for your other half
who walks always next to you
and tends to be what you aren't.

XVI
     When spring comes,
go to the flowers --
why keep on sucking wax?

XVII
     In my solitude
I have seen things very clearly
that were not true.

XVIII
     Water is good, so is thirst;
shadow is good, so is sun;
the honey from the rosemarys
ad the honey of the bare fields.

XIX
     Only one creed stands:
quod elixum est ne asato.
Don't roast what's already boiled.

XX
     Sing on, sing on, sing on,
the cricket in his cage
near his darling tomato.

XXI
     Form your letters slowly and well:
making things well
is more important than making them.

XXII
     All the same...
               Ah yes! All the same,
moving the legs fast is important,
as the snail said to the greyhound.

XXIII
     There are really men of action now!
The marsh was dreaming
of its mosquitoes.

XXIV
     Wake up, you poets:
let echoes end,
and voices begin.

XXV
     But don't hunt for dissonance;
because, in the end, there is no dissonance.
When the sound is heard people dance.

XXVI
     What the poet is searching for
is not the fundamental I
but the deep you.

XXVII
     The eyes you're longing for --
listen now --
the eyes you see yourself in
are eyes because they see you.

XXVIII
     Beyond living and dreaming
there is something more important:
waking up.

XXIX
     Now someone has come up with this!
Cogito ergo non sum.
What an exaggeration!

XXX
     I thought my fire was out,
and stirred the ashes...
I burnt my fingers.

XXXI
     Pay attention now:
a heart that's all by itself
is not a heart.

XXXII
     I've caught a glimpse of him in dreams:
expert hunter of himself,
every minute in ambush.

XXXIII
     He caught his bad man:
the one who on sunny days
walks with head down.

XXXIV
     If a poem becomes common,
passed around, hand to hand, it's OK:
gold is chosen for coins.

XXXV
     If it's good to live,
then it's better to be asleep dreaming,
and best of all,
mother, is to awake.

XXXVI
     Sunlight is good for waking,
but I prefer bells --
the best thing about morning.

XXXVII
     Among the figs I am soft.
Among the rocks I am hard.
That's bad!

XXXVIII
     When I am alone
how close my friends are;
when I am with them
how distant they are!

XXXIX
     Now, poet, your prophecy?
“Tomorrow what is dumb will speak,
the human heart and the stone.”

XL
     But art?
               It is pure and intense play,
so it is like pure and intense life,
so it is like pure and intense fire.
You'll see the coal burning
.
 

-- from Times Alone: Selected Poems of Antonio Machado, Translated by Robert Bly

http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/M/MachadoAnton/ProverbsSong.htm 


  I was a beggar  

by Gabriel Rosenstock  

Alan Larus photos: http://www.ferryfee.com/bluesky/shores/I_was_a_beggar.htm     

Dar Óma
I was a beggar
You threw me a smile

I ran off
delirious
into the distance

later, tired
hungry
I sat down

now people toss me coins

I throw them back at them

all I ever wanted
was Your smile


The selections form Uttering Her Name are addressed to Dar Óma, a Celtic goddess, daughter of OGHMA who gave the gift of writing to the Celts. The communication to Dar Óma at times seems addressed an impersonal God and, at others, to someone immediate, felt, touched. Gabriel Rosenstock describes the work as neo-bhakti and, indeed, it has a strong feel of some of the great bhakti poetry, like that of Mirabai. More of his poems may be read here:   http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/R/RosenstockGa/index.htm  http://www.poetseers.org/the_great_poets/ire/gabriel_rosenstock  

BLIAIN AN BHANDÉ,  Year of the Goddess   Listen to a reading:

http://www.dedaluspress.com/mp3/Year-of-the%20Goddess.mp3  

 



  http://www.duirwaighgallery.com/inspiration_heavensrejoice.htm 

The Heavens Rejoice
video posted by Ben Hassine

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