You can’t get full eating this way. The wise person dines on something more subtle:
Searching for meaning. Notes for a Poem searching for racing cars.
Pushkin: Exegi Monumentum (From Russian)
Exegi Monumentum
By A.S. Pushkin
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original Russian
We heard him say, "I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands."
-Mark 14:58
I've reared a monument not built by human hands.
The public path to it cannot be overgrown.
With insubmissive head far loftier it stands
Than Alexander's columned stone.
No, I shall not all die. My soul in hallowed berth
Of art shall brave decay and from my dust take wing,
And I shall be renowned while on this mortal earth
A single poet lives to sing.
Tidings of me shall spread through all the realm of Rus
And every tribe in Her shall name me as they speak:
The haughty western Pole, the east's untamed Tungus,
North Finns and the south steppe's Kalmyk.
And long shall I a man dear to the people be
For how my lyre once quickened kindly sentiment,
I in a tyrant age who sang of liberty,
And mercy toward fallen men.
To God and his commands pay Thou good heed, O Muse.
To praise and slander both be nonchalant and cool.
Demand no laureate's wreath, think nothing of abuse,
And never argue with a fool.
The Poet
Alexander Pushkin
Found in the book
Poems by Alexander Pushkin
Ivan Panin, trans.
Ere the poet summoned is
To Apollo’s holy sacrifice
In the world’s empty cares
Engrossed is half-hearted he.
His holy lyre silent is
And cold sleep his soul locks in;
And of the world’s puny children,
Of all puniest perhaps is he.
Yet no sooner the heavenly word
His keen ear hath reached,
Than up trembles the singer’s soul
Like unto an awakened eagle.
The world’s pastimes him now weary
And mortals’ gossip now he shuns
To the feet of popular idol
His lofty head bends not he.
Wild and stern, rushes he,
Of tumult full and sound,
To the shores of desert wave,
Into the widely-whispering wood.
The Prophet
Alexander Pushkin
Found in the book
Poems by Alexander Pushkin
Ivan Panin, trans.
Tormented by the thirst for the spirit
I was dragging myself in a sombre desert,
And a six-winged seraph appeared
Unto me on the parting of the roads.
With fingers as light as a dream
Mine eyes he touched:
And mine eyes opened wise
Like the eyes of a frightened eagle;
He touched mine ears,
And they filled with din and ringing.
And I heard the trembling of the heavens
And the flight of the angel’s wings,
And the creeping of the polyps in the sea,
And the growth of the vine in the valley.
And he took hold of my lips,
And out he tore my sinful tongue
With its empty and false speech.
And the fang of the wise serpent
Between my terrified lips he placed
With bloody hand.
And ope he cut with sword my breast,
And out he took my trembling heart,
And a coal with flaming blaze
Into the opened breast he shoved.
Like a corpse I lay in the desert.
And the voice of God unto me called:
Arise, O prophet, and listen, and guide.
Be thou filled with my will,
And going over land and sea
Fire with the word the hearts of men!
Questionings
Alexander Pushkin
Found in the book
Poems by Alexander Pushkin
Ivan Panin, trans.
Useless gift, accidental gift,
Life, why given art thou me?
Or, why by fate mysterious
To torture art thou doomed?
Who with hostile power me
Out has called from the nought?
Who my soul with passion thrilled,
Who my spirit with doubt has filled?…
Goal before me there is none,
My heart is hollow, vain my mind
And with sadness wearies me
Noisy life’s monotony.
“Every tree is sacred
and it is a sin
to be rude to a book.
It is a sin to shove a book aside
with your foot,
a sin to slam books down
hard on a table,
a sin to toss one carelessly
across a room.
You must learn how to turn the pages gently
without disturbing Sarasvati,”
http://www.poetryarchive.org/poem/different-history
Hume discusses the problem in book III, part I, section I of his book, A Treatise of Human Nature (1739):
In every system of morality, which I have hitherto met with, I have always remarked, that the author proceeds for some time in the ordinary way of reasoning, and establishes the being of a God, or makes observations concerning human affairs; when of a sudden I am surprised to find, that instead of the usual copulations of propositions, is, and is not, I meet with no proposition that is not connected with an ought, or an ought not. This change is imperceptible; but is, however, of the last consequence. For as this ought, or ought not, expresses some new relation or affirmation, ’tis necessary that it should be observed and explained; and at the same time that a reason should be given, for what seems altogether inconceivable, how this new relation can be a deduction from others, which are entirely different from it. But as authors do not commonly use this precaution, I shall presume to recommend it to the readers; and am persuaded, that this small attention would subvert all the vulgar systems of morality, and let us see, that the distinction of vice and virtue is not founded merely on the relations of objects, nor is perceived by reason.[1][2]
“Why scurry about looking for the truth?
It vibrates in every thing
and every not-thing,
right off the tip of your nose.
Can you be still and see it in the mountain?
the pine tree?
yourself?
Don’t imagine that you’ll discover it
by accumulating more knowledge.
Knowledge creates doubt, and doubt
makes you ravenous for more knowledge.
You can’t get full eating this way.
The wise person dines on something more subtle:
He eats the understanding that the named was born
from the unnamed,
that all being flows from non- being,
that the describable world emanates
from an indescribable source.
He finds this subtle truth inside his own self,
and becomes completely content.
So who can be still
and watch the chess game of the world?
The foolish are always making impulsive moves,
but the wise know that victory and defeat
are decided by something more subtle.
They see that something perfect exists
before any move is made.
This subtle perfection deteriorates
when artificial actions are taken, so be content
not to disturb the peace.
Remain quiet.
Discover the harmony in your own being.
Embrace it.
If you can do this, you will gain everything,
and the world will become healthy again.
If you can’t, you will be lost in the shadows forever.”
– Lao Tzuwritten by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s —
Not “Found in Old St. Paul’s Church”! — see below
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!
–Rudyard Kipling
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Is%E2%80%93ought_problem
Confirmation bias is of interest in the teaching of critical thinking, as the skill is misused if rigorous critical scrutiny is applied only to evidence challenging a preconceived idea but not to evidence supporting it.[16]
Allegorical demonstration of connectedness in spirituality through the probabilistic notion of half-life in decay of discrete entities.
“[T]here are known knowns; there are things we know we know.
We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns – the ones we don’t know we don’t know.”
—Former United States Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/There_are_known_knowns
Spirit Level study wilkinson to contrast.
National experiences with Multi National employee experiences regarding measures of satisfaction well being etc.
Nationalise the Peoples Banks for good.
Dolce and Gabanna chains are still chains. A gilded cage will still imprison.
Monopoly and Oligopoly are nothing to do with Free Trade. For a healthy economy support local farmers and local produce and use the nationalised Banks.
Charlie Chaplin – FIGHT to Free the World
http://www.youtube.com
http://informationstation.ning.com/
Charlie Chaplin as you may not expect him… From ”The Great dictator”, posted under FAIR USE in educational and non pro…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laozi
Wu wei, literally “non-action” or “not acting”, is a central concept of the Daodejing. The concept of wu wei is very complex and reflected in the words’ multiple meanings, even in English translation; it can mean “not doing anything”, “not forcing”, “not acting” in the theatrical sense, “creating nothingness”, “acting spontaneously”, and “flowing with the moment.”[24]
Ozymandias
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I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Source: Shelley’s Poetry and Prose (1977)
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Horace: Ode 3.30 (From Latin)
Ode 3.30: My Monument
By Horace
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
I've raised a monument to outlast bronze,
Whose heights no dynast's pyramid can exceed,
Which neither North Wind's bluster nor the gnaw
Of rain, nor countless years in slow stampede,
Nor eras' flight can level to the ground.
I'll not all die. Much of me will go long
Past Queen Funeria's reach. I in renown
Of latter days shall grow ever fresh and young.
While yet the pontiff with the quiet virgin
Ascends to the Temple of Jove on that great hill,
I, born where the Aufidus river in violence surges
And droughted Daunus ruled a wild people, will
Be named: the mighty leader from low birth
Who first led Greek song to Italic measure.
Now, Muse, take on the pridefulness I've earned,
And lay the laureate's wreathe on me with pleasure.
The Original:
Carmen XXX, Liber III
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Exēgī monumentum aere perennius,
rēgālīque sitū pȳramidum altius,
quod nōn imber edāx nōn Aquilō impotēns
possit dīruere aut innumerābilis
annōrum seriēs et fuga temporum.
Nōn omnis moriar. Multaque pars meī
vītābit Libitīnam, ūsque ego posterā
crēscam laude recēns, dum Capitōlium
scandet cum tacitā virgine pontifex
dīcar, quā violēns obstrepit Aufidus
et quā pauper aquae Daunus agrestium
rēgnāvit populōrum, ex humilī potēns
prīnceps Aeolium carmen ad Ītalōs
dēdūxisse modōs. Sūme superbiam
quaesītam meritīs et mihi Delphicā
laurō cinge volēns, Melpomenē, comam.
https://poemsintranslation.blogspot.com/2014/08/horace-ode-330-from-latin.html
https://poemsintranslation.blogspot.com/2013/10/pushkin-exegi-monumentum-from-russian.html
Rome's Sons March to Civil War
By Horace (Epode 1.7)
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Hear me recite the original text in Latin on my YouTube Channel
What crime are you boys off to now? What are you
Doing, with blades again in hand?
Has not enough of Latin blood already
Gushed over sea and land?
Was it so Rome could bring the lording towers
of jumped-up Carthage down in flames,
Was it to take the last free Briton down
the Sacred Way in slavers' chains?
No. It was this town answering Persia's prayers,
Disemboweling herself alone.
Not even wolves or lions can do this
violence against their own.
Does blind rage goad you? Or some nastier power
Like guilt? Give me reply.
Silence. A ghastly pallor dyes their cheeks.
Their shattered brains in stupor lie.
And so it goes: cruel fate and fratricide
Drive Romans on in crime,
Ever since blameless Remus' blood was spilled
and brought a curse on all their line.
The Original:
Quō, quō, scelestī, ruitis? aut cūr dexterīs
aptantur ēnsēs conditī?
parumne campīs atque Neptūnō super
fūsum est Latīnī sanguinis?
nōn ut superbās invidae Carthāginis
Rōmānus arcēs ūreret,
intāctus aut Britannus ut dēscenderet
Sacrā catēnātus Viā,
sed ut secundum vōta Parthōrum suā
urbs haec perīret dexterā.
neque hic lupīs mōs nec fuit leōnibus,
numquam nisī in dispār ferīs.
furorne caecus an rapit vīs ācrior
an culpa? respōnsum date!
tacent, et albus ōra pallor īnficit,
mentēsque perculsae stupent.
sīc est: acerba fāta Rōmānōs agunt
scelusque frāternae necis,
ut immerentis flūxit in terram Remī
sacer nepōtibus cruor.
https://poemsintranslation.blogspot.com/2021/02/horace-epode-17-romes-sons-march-to.html
Sedebat Humptus Dumptius
Olim in summo muro
Cecedit Humptus Dumptius
Casu damnose duro
Cui Caesaris praefecti tum
Equique adfuerunt
Sed lapsum Humptum Dumptium
Sarcire nequierunt
https://blogicarian.blogspot.com/
QUEUE HERE. SISYPHUS, QUE OF CUES, CUE QUE, COUP DE QUE.
Sisyphus pushed his boulder,
The path smooth both ways
The same incline repeated
Parmenides like determination.
—
Prometheus chained over the hill
Willing that Sisyphus may succeed
panta rhei, alike to his own flame.
Both legends for deaf ears.
—
Heraclitus his ebb and flow
Crying metaphors to deaf masses
Sobbing similes to Blind tyranny
Calvary the summit to that bluff.
—
Maimonides saw each contradiction
Each species of deafness, Loud
Each species of blindness, Dark
All no less perplexed than the next.
—
Yet another Sisyphus rolls
Yet another Prometheus reveals
Yet another Heraclitus cry’s
Yet another Maimonides interprets
—-
Ancient and modern queuing
Missed cues and repeated lines
A dialogue of the divine comedy
Stockaded in linguistic prison walls.
—-
Plus ca change plus ca meme chose.
June 26, 2018
NOTES ON AN OLD FIDDLE. (FOR JOHANNA, I LOVE YOU.)
Notes on an Old Fiddle.
I wrote a note, about the key, you needed the information so you could meet me at the pitch on time.
This was not the first wrong Note, it will not be the last, I did not know you didn’t read perhaps I should have told you instead.
it’s something about our communication, What is missing from our relationship, why do we not hear each other?
Perhaps we can solve this equation, seek some resolution why must I march when you are dancing?
Your Tangos sound like Dirges for me.
I might have seemed sharp to you, that joke I told fell flat in the wrong company. The symphony you sought was beyond the scope of the Duet I had planned.
If I were to Score that goal again, perhaps I would not repeat the same notes so often. Variations on a broken theme? Perhaps a fresh Page needs to be turned.
Your melody always haunts me as I hum that tune you used to sing in carefree moments and when you put the children to bed.
I never seem to get it quite right, I will ask you to sing it again I wonder if it is wise to leave that message in another note?
By Way of acknowledgment, I still Love you Johanna and to my two Children Rhiannon and Rasmus, my world didn’t exist before you and I can not imagine a world that could be complete without you both in it.
99 flakes for sale
My son and I had some time in Hoganas a local sea side town it
brought back memories of my own experience as a child growing
up, and parenting I am trying not to repeat.
99 flakes for sale
99 fakes for sale
in the blazing sun
you handed me one
99 fakes for sale
when it fell to the floor
I felt your hand so sore
not in comfort but anger pale
99 fakes for sale
as tears filled my eyes
each rivulet so sweet ran down
I cry in the sun and your hand assails
99 fakes for sale
years pass and dim memories stir
and I hand a pistachio cone to my son
it drops to the floor as mine once did
I cry within and remember the pain
with love a cone is restored and he smiles.
99 fakes for sale
99 fakes for sale.
In the blazing sun
he twirls his cone he smiles
laughter and holding tight
let one sad little boy grow to a father
he will grow to a man
we will remember this day
as I once I remembered in pain
never the twain will visit our lives again.
No more pain
no more pain
heal the pain
heal the pain
99 fakes for sale
99 fakes for sale.
Searching For Racing Cars
The inanition of meaning
searching for nutrition
an absence of gleaning
a substitution for control
We sat in that hide
sheltered from cold
snow falling, a picnic
flasks of breath and warmth
Hopes Withered memory
icy limbs as twigs once
evergreen yet no more
as winters darkness fell
search those coal dark
eyes , painfully searching
to find once more what?
you mean, everything my son