March 2009
8 posts
as a very young child i was ignorant of some things to which i had been exposed. i remember hours of silver and sun near rivers - even a person who has come through his affliction will still have something left in him, compelling him to plunge into it again if it has bitten deeply and forever into the substance of his soul. i ran away, my hands stuck in pockets that seemed all holes, i imagined...
everyone is right; things become true as soon as someone believes in them. had i dreamed of this enormous presence? behind the hoods of the burnooses and behind a ramaprt of veils, only their eyes could be seen; the strong smells encompassed me and the water more pure than that of Jabal made sounds of another age. ‘do you believe this?’ my soul replied, still smiling and repeating to...
love transcends mourning and death. knowing the laugh of the dead, let this fruit be peeled for us - an endless, obstinate, ludicrous prayer. the beauty of the world is the mouth of a labyrinth, for we have a right to everything; to life, to work, to wealth, to command, to respect, and finally, to immortality. oh World! and the shining sun of new sorrows. i refuse to be erased, i will stand as a...
the sun and blue sky were only a snare. to force oneself to believe when there is no recourse is sentimental sophistry. true, i’ve cried too much - i am heartsick at dawn. the first light of day for other living creatures, and for me the inexorable sun. who is speaking, no one, the sky does not part, no, no, God does not speak in the desert…..when i awoke it was noon. an odor of...
bright fires, falling in squalls of sleet - at night, when the body surrenders to sleep, the soul escapes. thus was the City founded and placed in the morning under the labials of a holy name, a charming sun with a light mist which promises a clear day. a thousand dreams within me softly burn. in true love, it is not we who love the afflicted in God, it is God in us who loves them. at the pure...
in this vast country we have loved so much, we are alone. i got used to elementary hallucination. come, we are amazed at you, Sun! you have told us such lies. again the night came alive outside the window where the starless sky gently shifted. i take three more baths of yellow light and see an old woman round the corner. morning comes and the body stirs, awakens, rises….the woman has lain...
what do i care any longer about the noise of the world, what do i have to do with these who sit beside me, bowed with laziness and boredom? so long as God does not give me the certainty that he is ordering me to do anything else, i think it is my duty - i have built myself, with honour and dignity have I build myself on three great seasons, and it promises well, the soil whereupon I have...
do not expect me to provide an exact account of what i had been permitted to experience in this domain. oh genaeologist upon the market-place! how many chronicles of families and connexions? may the dead sieze the quick, as it is said in the tables of the law, if i have not seen each thing in its own shadow and the virtues of its age. things, you might have called them thoughts, which stopped...