Saturday, August 19, 2017

Human feelings/ Menschengefühl by J.W.Goethe


Menschengefühl
J.W.Goethe

Ach ihr Götter! große Götter,
In dem weiten Himmel droben!
Gäbet ihr uns auf der Erde
Festen Sinn und guten Mut,
O wir ließen euch, ihr Guten,
Euren weiten Himmel droben!

Human feelings
J.W.Goethe

AH, ye gods! ye great immortals
In the spacious heavens above us!
Would ye on this earth but give us
Steadfast minds and dauntless courage
We, oh kindly ones, would leave you
All your spacious heavens above us

love is the greatest thing between human beings by D.H.Lawrence


Human love, human trust, are always perilous, because they break down.
The greater the love, the greater the trust, and the greater the peril,
the greater the disaster. Because to place absolute trust on another
human being is in itself a disaster, both ways, since each human being
is a ship that must sail its own course, even if it go in company with
another ship.... And yet, love is the greatest thing between human beings.
D. H. Lawrence

Whisper of Rose by Erica Caitlin Lee


Let me show you
Sweet smell of a delicate whisper
Behind the vision of gardens
Go and read of your life
Tiny ripping at the heart
Drunk from a rose.
Erica Caitlin Lee

Monday, August 14, 2017

Solitude by Khalil Gibran



Solitude is a silent storm that breaks down all our dead branches.
Yet it sends our living roots deeper into the living heart of
the living earth. Man struggles to find life outside himself,
unaware that the life he is seeking is within.
Khalil Gibran

When man walks alone with God by Jack london


When man walks alone with God
Excerpt from"the white silence"
by Jack london

Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity--
the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of the storm, the shock
of the earthquake, the long roll of heaven's artillery--but
the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive
phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears,
the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege,
and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice.

Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of
a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his
is a maggot's life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise
unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance.

And the fear of death, of God, of the universe comes over him--
the hope of the Resurrection and the Life, the yearning for
immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence--
it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Thursday, August 3, 2017

The pleasures of love by Umberto Eco


The pleasures of love are pains that become desirable,
where sweetness and torment blend, and so love is
voluntary insanity, infernal paradise, and celestial hell -
in short, harmony of opposite yearnings, sorrowful
laughter, soft diamond.
Umberto Eco

Why not seize pleasure at once? by Jane Austen


Why not seize pleasure at once?
How often is happiness destroyed
by preparation, foolish preparation!
JANE AUSTEN

But pleasures are like poppies spread--
You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river--
A moment white -- then melts for ever.
ROBERT BURNS

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