The water bucket was brought by a woman. She left. Her child needed to be fed. Sands. Times comes from nowhere and goes nowhere. Between my thirst and this bucket of water, Between the consciousness of man and that of the stars, Matter passes from blue to gold. Sahara Tonight Your love gives way to […]
Lines from Alexander Pushkin
Neither anger feel nor sorrow
At the mean tricks life can play.
Bear the anguish of today:
Joy shall surely dawn tomorrow.
It’s the future quickens hearts;
It’s the present is depressing:
All is fleeting, all departs,
And, when gone, receives our blessing.
Translated by Peter Tempest
Over the rainbow – A poem By Renton de Alwis
Somewhere over the rainbow
a dark cloud dances a tango…
tapping feet make
thunder and lightning
deafening blinding glows,
come please come…
cleanse this earth,
hearts and minds of all.
This is a pdf file containing five poems by Fydor Tuytchev, Afanasy Fet and Alexei Tolstoy.
Image by NilookaD; Pickingflowers
How much stays unseen when some eye on us gazes–
A sub-text may run under clear-sounding phrases
And sighs of delight or expressions of sorrow
May differ in meaning from poses they borrow.
We lie on the grass, watch the sunlight which spreads,
But what are the thoughts that go round in our heads?
We meet. Stroll along in the garden’s deep shade,
But what is our purpose? What plans have we made?
Our time throbs and shakes with the problems of ages,
But man and his soul are a book of sealed pages!
At sight we are simple. No need for much guessing,
But what are our feelings? Extatic? Depressing?
We lunch in cheap restaurants without star rating
But maybe a triumph we are celebrating!
And perhaps it’s not transport that gives us a ride,
But invisible wings, which don’t show from outside.
Translated by Eva Strauss
From: Soviet Literature, 1979; ISSN-0202-1870
I’ve been posting multiple links about mindsets in my Facebook page after reading Carol Dweck’s book, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success which teaches how each of us can learn to fulfill our potential. Here’s a great summary of it.
Also, here’s a poem I came across in an old copy of Soviet Literature (1979).
by Alexander Pushkin
The long-spent madness of once joyous days
Is dull and heavy like a drunken daze.
But, just like wine, the grief of days gone by
Grows ever stronger as years swiftly fly.
My fate is sad. Hard work and woe’s grim lore
Is all the future holds for me in store.
And yet, dear friends, I do not pray for death,
To think and suffer life must give me breath.
And I believe, mid worries, grief and pain,
Sweet spells of bliss will come my way again:
I’ll feast my ears on harmony supreme,
Let over fantasy tears freely stream,
And it may be, my sunset’s gloomy isle
Love shall light up with short-lived farewell smile.
Translated by Diana Russell
Don’t you think it reflects a growth mindset? And that is something which always bestows hope.
A few more lines from the poetry collection, Light of the Hearth
By Ivan Savelyev | Translated by Walter May.
From your first song until your farewell song
There stretches in between a long stern road.
Here trickling like a ringing springtime stream,
And there like some broad-bosomed river it flows.
And in its waters, deep and pure and clear,
Like sand-bank islands, failures will sink and cease,
And out will blaze above the shining space
The lighthouse beams of mighty victories.
For all your previous disappointed hopes,
For all your losses, and for all distress,
They will light up for you your entire road–
Remember, and observe, and go ahead!
And may be here’s the wonder of constancy,
The marvel of loyalty which does not die out,–
That to your dream you’ll go, and not lose heart,
And not for even a moment will you doubt.
And maybe in such action lies our goal,
And even the primary purpose
Of life, let’s say:
To discover in your self an exalted song,
And not to betray it then in any way.
English Translation © Raduga Publications 1987
A few lines from the poetry collection, Light of the Hearth
By Ivan Savelyev
The poems were translated by Walter May.
At any and every time of the year,
Whatever the dream I live at that hour,
With nature’s voice in harmony here
Is the tuning of my emotional power.
So near to me her tears, her hurts,
So heavy her grief and loss again,
That when they hack a branch from a birch
In my own arms I feel the pain.
* * *
No, the heavens are surely never blind,
And the earth can surely not lack sight.
Grasses deaf from birth you will not find.
Rivers without hearing would not be right.
It is we, the sons of heaven and earth,
Finding ourselves not all at once, I fear,
On the millennia’s steep road struggling forth,
Who are slowly learning to see and hear…
Today I’m sharing with you a few selected lines from
Auguries of Innocence by William Blake
Here’s the beginning :
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Its a long poem. You have to pause and wonder about each line and it would be worth it.
Here’s some more lines:
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some ar Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
Take a break. Watch the cows. Breathe deeply.
As I am writing this monkeys are jumping from tree to tree, seeking mangoes. Squirrels operate at a lower level and birds provide music. I am not taking a break really, but these days my work and pleasure activities are merging that I hardly know when I am working.
When I was young (I am still young in my mind, just not in years) I used to love this poem:
BY William Henry Davis
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
You can read more of W.H. Davis’s poems and many others at PoemHunter.com
Say Hi to the cows for me. Or should that be Moo?