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    • #10672
      amarynth
      Keymaster

      I’ve lent my hand to creative endeavours, two specific styles and will probably tell all about it as time goes on.  (Food is both sustenance and art to me as well!)  But for now, the space to pour it all out.  Artists sometimes present the picture of life in gory stories.  And here Medvedev tells his story in modern mythical terms:  Zeus the white bull, and the beautiful Europa.

      Dmitry Medvedev from his Telegram channel:

      About the Circus of freaks and the new abduction of Europe

      A bearded model in a green smelly T-shirt rode a circus tent in Europe. Live broadcasts, front pages of newspapers, photos with “European bosses”.

      Well, in parallel, hundreds of mobilized Ukrainians are dying every day, forcibly driven to protect the interests of the ruling Nazi clique.

      I have already written that the current European “leaders”, all pathetic amateurs, terry Russophobes and intellectual pygmies, will never stand even next to their predecessors. Those who, after the most destructive war in the XX century, built a new, independent and prosperous Europe. This was especially noticeable during the last “miracle” of Ukrainian extortionists. The apogee of the “circus of freaks” was the audience of a greasy green T-shirt with the British monarch.

      But all the more or less adequate people, especially the older generation, living on the fragments of the great Roman Empire, now see that they have been sold some kind of cheap pornographic show. A vile and dirty fantasy that brought only problems to Europeans.

      The first of them is the exorbitant rise in the cost of their lives, which, probably, they will be able to cope with somehow. Eat less, wash less often, screw gas burners…

      But what can you not do for the “victory of the mythical country 404”. Don’t understand what kind of horseradish, but they say in the newspapers that it exists. So the refugees are proof of that.

      But the second one is much worse. National humiliation. The old “true” Europeans could probably endure from the “Big American Brother”. He also has the main money, and the main printing press (nobody knows the fate of the euro), and a great weapon, and even the vaunted American democracy.

      But when the former, but empires are driven by former losers-underdogs… Well, the former “grand duchies” – Polish and Lithuanian… this is very humiliating. Especially for the direct descendants of the citizens of the Roman Empire – the Quirits. And for the descendants of the warlike Franks and Gauls.

      This reign of exalted Young European freaks will end very badly for the “old European civilization”. It is already dissolving under the onslaught of emigrants arriving from all over the world. And soon it will disappear completely, repeating the well-known myth about the abduction of Europa by Zeus. Only today, the role of the bull will be played by impudent America, which, with its mouth open with lust, is served by traitors to European interests such as Poland and the Baltic countries.

    • #11250
      amarynth
      Keymaster

      This is poetry that I love.

      Sea Fever (1902)

      I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
      And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
      And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
      And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

      I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
      Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
      And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
      And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

      I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
      To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
      And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
      And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

      John Masefield

       

       

    • #11343
      amarynth
      Keymaster

      Catching up with some videos (too many) and this came to mind … from some time machine.

    • #11777
      siljan
      Participant

      I see now that I have been going to the wrong salon…förlåt. This is where the poets, storytellers and the musicians hang out…oh man that Harry Nilsson song sure brings back a lot of memories…

      That version of the Russian Anthem had me almost choked up AHH. Powerful

      Interesting Chinese string instrument Sudhi. Never seen one before.

      Jim Byrnes – Cross Road Blues;

      Leave Me Now – Leonid & Friends;

       

       

    • #11803
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #12028
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Kabir lived in Benares, India, in the 15th century. He was a weaver, a free-thinker and mystic, and opposed ritualism and false piety. Kabir’s own religious identity was ambiguous. His followers included both Hindus and Muslims. He wrote a large number of poems and songs in simple Hindi, which are still sung across north India even today.

      The great Pandit Kumar Gandharva had delved deep into the mystical music tradition inspired by Kabir’s compositions.
      Here is the master singing Kabir’s
      “Ud Jayega Hans Akela”

      A translation:
      What is this world,
      if not a play of illusions,
      the swan (individual soul) will fly away alone from this play

      Just like it is difficult to trace a leaf
      that falls away from the tree,
      Who knows where we go when
      the winds of death scatter us

      When our allotted time on earth is up,
      when we cease to act in this drama,
      Then, the messengers of Death (Yama)
      will arrive to carry us away,
      forcefully if need be

      Kabir is immersed in the praise of the one Lord
      and requests an early audience with the Lord,
      Each one, guru and disciple alike,
      will reap the fruits of their respective actions

      **

      Thanks dear QC, for constantly  reminding us of the Law of Karma.

       

       

    • #12042
      siljan
      Participant

      THE TEN INDIAN COMMANDMENTS

      – Treat the Earth and all that dwell thereen with Respect
      – Remain close to the Great Spirit
      – Show great respect for your fellow beings
      – Work together for the benefit of all Mankind
      – Give assistance and kindness wherever needed
      – Do what you know to be right
      – Look after the well being of mind and body
      – Dedicate a share of your efforts to the greater good.
      – Be truthful and honest at all times
      – Take full responsibility for your actions

      Apache song Tatanka;

      Buffy Sainte-Marie & Tanya Tagaq – You got to Run (Spirit of the Wind);

       

    • #12046
      amarynth
      Keymaster

      My personal Zen-Like story.

      So, imagine a quiet beach, not a soul on the beach, beautiful summer day and I’m walking along, mumbling.  I was heading up to writing quite an important exam that day and I was mumbling through the eight schools of psychology (as defined at the time), their major teachings, and doing a bit of compare and contrast because sure as god made little green apples, major questions would be forthcoming on just this topic in this 3 hour exam.  So, I was mentally bringing this knowledge right into my genes.  I had no money to pay again for this study should I screw up in the exam.

      Far off into the distance, there were two black seabirds – just hanging out quietly on the beach or perhaps my eyes were a little vague and non-functional as all my action was happening in the brain and memory.

      And so it went for a while and I got closer and closer to the seabirds that strangely did not waddle off or fly away.  Closer and closer I came to see a sight outside of anything that I had ever experienced.  There were two little people in their black leotards sitting in some yoga positions very quietly on the beach.  I wanted to take a distance around them, as I did not want to disturb them and my brain was still busy – but, they unfolded and the namaste’s flowed.  To my utter big surprise, he was a swami (teacher) and she was a portrait painter.

      A swami? in our little backward burg.  Unprecedented – never happened before.

      I could do nothing else but invite them for a dinner absolutely that same evening.  And off they went visiting their grown kids and I went to write my exam, which I aced.

      Evening came around and it was a joyful celebration with everybody talking together at times and at times rich silence.  My son, 7 or 8 at the time, was just so highly impressed that his mom brought a swami home and he hung onto every word that was spoken and on his very best behavior.  In one of the quiet periods he asked if he could ask the swami a question and that was of course allowed.

      So, he says and it was clear in his world he was so very serious:  Swami, could you teach me to levitate?  (I did not even know he knew the word levitate).

      The swami grinned at him and this was the answer:  “Yes sure, the first step is to love one another fully, that is the hard work, and then we sit around levitating and having fun all day long.”

      So that was my very first Zen Like experience.   The two weeks that the swami and his little wife spent visiting their children was a riot from that moment on.  His children wanted to keep the parents out of sight, as it was just so unprecedented in our world, and they were so comically serious Christian, so, Swami and his little wife hung out with us.  Swami taught me a method of foot massage – touching three ‘bodies’, pre-birth, physical and outside physicality, soul level.  It was a healing modality.  And then they went back to their school.

       

       

       

    • #12068
      Sudhi
      Participant

      “L’appuntamento” – The Appointment
      by Ornella Vanoni

      A translation:

      I’ve been mistaken so many times by now that I already know
      that today almost certainly
      I was wrong about you once more
      that you can change my life
      and accept this strange appointment
      has been a madness!

      Love, make it happen soon
      I don’t resist
      I don’t exist
      I don’t exist, I don’t exist

      I am sad amongst the people
      that are passing nearby
      but the nostalgia of seeing you again
      is stronger than all weeping
      the sun shines on my face as a sign of hope
      I am waiting when suddenly
      You appear at a distance!

      It is necessary to end this soon
      to remember that I exist
      That I exist
      That I exist

      Car lights, shop windows, streets
      everything seems so confusing
      my shadow is tired of following me
      the day ends slowly
      And to leave now
      to return to my house
      to my despairing life
      this life that I wanted to give to you
      has been crumbled between your fingers

    • #12071
      siljan
      Participant

      Thank you amarynth for sharing that interesting story. I believe there is a higher power that leads us to meet certain people that changes our lives. What we give to others we will receive back in equal measure…

      “So many gods, so many creeds so many paths that wind and wind, while just the art of being kind is all this sad world needs”.   – Ella Wheeler Wilcox

    • #12273
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #12304
      siljan
      Participant

      Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson in different kind of settings and surroundings;

      Johnny Cash – The Man in Black;

      Willie Nelson and Wynton Marsalis – Georgia on my mind;

       

    • #12556
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #12557
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #12585
      siljan
      Participant

      Tango ‘Poema’ From Russia: Dmitry Vasin and Sagadina Hamzina, world champions 2018;

       

      Palestine shall be free, the wall will fall !

      Rim Banna – A Time to Cry; (a lament over Jerusalem)

      Happy Easter one and all

      siljan

       

       

    • #12808
      siljan
      Participant

      Tchaikovsky – Hymns of the Cherubim;

       

       

       

       

    • #12825
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #12848
      siljan
      Participant

      Thank you Sudhi. One of my favorit tunes when I need some space for contemplation

    • #13246
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #13253
      siljan
      Participant

      Thank you Sushi. In Sweden you are not allowed to play the balalaika. The prevailing Russophobia borders on mental illness.
      This Band “Södra Bergens Ballalaikor” was cancelled because some members play that Russian instrument..

      Swedish Folk Band Banned From Singing in Ukraine’s Support Due to Russian Musical Instrument

       

       

    • #13319
      amarynth
      Keymaster
    • #13550
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #13554
      siljan
      Participant

      The beloved poet Dan Andersson;

      To Love

      https://allmogens.se/en/poetry/till-karleken/

       

       

    • #13555
      siljan
      Participant

      Women’s Troops of Russia – Victory Parade 2021;
      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJN7MOiUWJg

      China Female Military Parade;

       

    • #13598
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #13679
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #13775
      Sudhi
      Participant

      A favorite song of Mr P,
      if I remember correctly :

      Bertolt Brecht
      Memory of Marie A :

      One day in blue-moon September,
      Silent under a plum tree,
      I held her, my silent pale love
      in my arms like a fair and lovely dream.

      Above us in the summer skies,
      Was a cloud that caught my eye.
      It was so white and high up,
      and when I looked up, it was no longer there.

      And since that moment, many a September
      Came sailing in, then floated down the stream.
      No doubt the plum trees were cut down for timber
      And if you ask what happened to my dream
      I shall reply: I cannot now remember.

      Though what you have in mind I surely know.
      And yet her face: I really don’t recall it.
      I just recall I kissed long ago.

      Even the kiss would have been long forgotten
      If that white cloud had not been in the sky.
      I know the cloud, and shall know it forever,
      It was pure white and, oh, so very high.

      Perhaps the plum trees still are there and blooming.
      Perhaps that woman has six children too.
      But that white cloud bloomed only for a moment:
      When I looked up, it vanished in the blue.

    • #13817
      siljan
      Participant

      Eliades Ochoa – Concierto en el Gran Teatro de La Habana

       

       

    • #13879
      Mr P
      Participant

      Recalling “Seventeen Seconds of Spring and the intrepid Comrade Stierlitz, It seems that the KGB had an agent that looks vaguely familiar… evidently it was necessary to let Stierlitz know about Crimea, hence the face to face… Enjoy!

      https://youtu.be/R07TIgQh2CM  (Stierlitz and Putin)

       

    • #13882
      Mr P
      Participant

      Possibly this Lady is unknown to y’all. Pretty songs, gal’s from the old America.

      Best! P

    • #13903
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Thanks, Mr. P, it’s always a pleasure to discover pretty songs

    • #13904
      Sudhi
      Participant

       

      Fragrance in my heart
      A petal falls, a bird calls
      Dew drops melt away

      by Syed Liaqath Peeran (b. 1950)
      He hails from the Sufi background and composed haiku-like metrical verses.

    • #13928
      siljan
      Participant

      Thank you Mr. P and Sudhi, beautiful voice !

      Got a good chuckle from that Stierlitz and Putin skit…

       

      People get ready…

       

    • #13930
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #14018
      siljan
      Participant

      Santana – Africa Bamba;

       

    • #14040
      Sudhi
      Participant

      with Wagners as the vanguard …

      Lyrics translation:
      https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/38031002/The+HU/Wolf+Totem

    • #14274
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #14310
      siljan
      Participant

       

       

    • #14311
      siljan
      Participant

       

    • #14331
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #14372
      Sudhi
      Participant

      It’s This Way :
      Poem by Nazim Hikmet

      I stand in the advancing light,
      my hands hungry, the world beautiful.

      My eyes can’t get enough of the trees–
      they’re so hopeful, so green.

      A sunny road runs through the mulberries,
      I’m at the window of the prison infirmary.

      I can’t smell the medicines–
      carnations must be blooming nearby.

      It’s this way:
      being captured is beside the point,
      the point is not to surrender.

    • #14435
      siljan
      Participant

      Beautiful Iranian short film;

       

       

      • #14590
        Sudhi
        Participant

        The beautiful film was
        short, sweet, and succinct
        bringing pleasant tears
        to one’s eyes

    • #14571
      siljan
      Participant

      THE GUEST HOUSE
      by Rumi

      This being human is a guest house.
      Every morning a new arrival.

      A joy, a depression, a meanness,
      some momentary awareness comes
      as an unexpected visitor.

      Welcome and entertain them all!
      Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
      who violently sweep your house
      empty of its furniture,
      still, treat each guest honorably.
      He may be clearing you out
      for some new delight.

      The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
      meet them at the door laughing,
      and invite them in.

      Be grateful for whoever comes,
      because each has been sent
      as a guide from beyond.

       

       

    • #14572
      siljan
      Participant

       

       

    • #14577
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Raag Yaman – an evening raga
      by Ustad Bismillah Khan

       

    • #14680
      Sudhi
      Participant

      “To the Slanderers of Russia” (1831)
      by Alexander Pushkin
      Today is his Birthday

      What do you raise an outcry over, national bards?
      Why do you threaten Russia with Anathema?
      What stirred you up? The throes of Lithuania?
      Desist: this is a strife of Slavs among themselves,
      An old domestic strife, already weighed by fate,
      An issue not to be resolved by you.
      Long since among themselves
      These tribes have been at war;
      More than once has bent beneath the storm
      Now their, now our side.
      Who will prevail in the unequal strife:
      The boastful Lekh, or the faithful Ross?
      Will the Slavonic streams converge in the Russian sea?
      Will it dry up? Here is the question.
      Leave us alone: you have not read
      Those bloody tablets;
      To you is unintelligible, you is alien
      This family feud;
      Mute to you are the Kremlin and Praga;
      Unthinkingly you are beguiled
      By the valor of a desperate struggle –
      And you hate us . . .
      And for what? Reply: is it because
      On the ruins of blazing Moscow
      We did not acknowledge the insolent will
      Of him under whom you quaked?
      Because we hurled into the abyss
      The idol heavy-looming over kingdoms,
      And with our blood redeemed
      Europe’s freedom, honour, and peace?
      You are menacing in words – just try to be in action!
      Is then the old thane, resting on his bed,
      Unfit to mount his bayonet is Ismail?
      Or is the Russian Tsar’s word powerless by now?
      Or is it new to us to be at odds with Europe?
      Or has the Russian grown unused to victories?
      Are there too few of us? Or will, from Perm to Tauris,
      From frigid crags of Finland to the flaming Colchis,
      From the shaken Kremlin
      To stagnant China’s walls,
      Flashing with steely bristle,
      Not rise the Russian land?
      So send
      Your embittered sons to us, vitia:
      There is a place for them in the fields of Russia,
      Among alien coffins.

    • #14815
      siljan
      Participant

      It’s summertime around here…

       

    • #14821
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #15168
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #15278
      Sudhi
      Participant

      “And the Candles are Melting”
      Russian title: Oplavlyayutsya svechi na starinnyj parket
      by Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky

      And the candles are melting
      Out to the aging floors
      The rain falls on shoulders
      Like silver off epaulettes.
      In a frenzy there fizzles
      The golden champagne.
      Let times past, fly away
      I’m not one to complain.

      In a pre-mortal anguish
      with a back-looking glance,
      The scared stags leap forward
      Towards the deadly advance.
      Someone points his long barrel
      At the innocent breast…
      Let bygones be bygones,
      Come what may, if it be best.

      With a heartless abandon
      A clever hunter takes aim
      With razor-sharp arrows
      Into sunset’s red flame.
      In the tempest of sound
      A sad note cries shrill.
      The past leaps and bounds,
      Come what may, if it will.

    • #15528
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Alexander Gradsky -Bardovskaya (Pendulum)
      The pendulum swings – the heart stops.
      What will be credited to whom – who knows about it?

      Who someone likes, who is in disgrace,
      What rightfully fell out – to whom it is horrible

      What will fate predict for us, brothers, by nightfall
      Will she smile, or won’t she?

      We are alone and their lash, we are alone their bridle.
      We will always be in time, we will not be late.

      The hour of sunset has come – the pendulum will swing…
      And without us guys, the fight won’t start.

      And without us guys, the fight won’t happen.
      We must part with life sometime…

      What will fate predict for us, brothers, by nightfall
      Will she smile, or won’t she?…

      We’ll put up candles, we won’t be sad,
      If it’s odd or even, we’ll find out tomorrow…

      https://lyricsonline.ru/55168-aleksandr-gradskiy-bardovskaya.html

    • #15664
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Mirza Ghalibs Paradise;
      ham ko maaluum hai
      jannat kii hakiiqat lekin
      Ghazal and translation :

      Albeit the moon at its fullest is better
      Sun brings out beauty of the moon better

      She won’t even bestow me a kiss
      and yet keeps an eye on my heart
      If she gets them for free it is better

      If my cup breaks
      from the bazaar I can get another
      Compared to the Cup of Jamshid
      my cup of clay is better

      A gift freely given doubles the pleasure
      The beggar who does not ask is better

      When I see her my face lights up
      And she thinks this invalid is better

      Let us see what favour time brings to lovers
      A pundit has said that this year will be better

      His axemanship won Farhad
      a chance to talk with Shirin
      In any case for everyone
      to have a skill is better

      A drop that makes it to the sea
      would become the sea
      A task is worth undertaking
      when its outcome is better

      Oh, we know the truth about Heaven
      Still, to keep the heart happy
      Ghalib, such a notion is better

    • #15736
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #15854
      Sudhi
      Participant

      “L’appuntamento” – The Appointment
      by Ornella Vanoni

      A translation:
      I’ve been mistaken so many times by now that I already know
      that today almost certainly 
      I was wrong about you once more
      that you can change my life
      and accept this strange appointment
      has been a madness!

      Love, make it happen soon
      I don’t resist
      I don’t exist
      I don’t exist, I don’t exist

      I am sad amongst the people
      that are passing nearby
      but the nostalgia of seeing you again
      is stronger than all weeping
      the sun shines on my face as a sign of hope
      I am waiting when suddenly
      You appear at a distance!

      It is necessary to end this soon
      to remember that I exist
      That I exist
      That I exist

      Car lights, shop windows, streets
      everything seems so confusing
      my shadow is tired of following me
      the day ends slowly
      And to leave now
      to return to my house
      to my despairing life
      this life that I wanted to give to you
      has been crumbled between your fingers

    • #15921
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Glenn Gould – Mozart – Turkish March

      Yaja Wang – Turkish March

    • #16023
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #16147
      Mr P
      Participant

      Bear is polite.

      Man is rude.

      In cross species affairs things can be misunderstood.

      https://t.me/Slavyangrad/54267

      Best! P

    • #16148
      Sudhi
      Participant

      How do you solve a problem like Maria?
      How do you catch a
      cloud and pin it down?
      How do you find the
      word that means Maria?
      A flibbertijibbet!
      A will-o’-the wisp!
      A clown!

      I’d like to say a word in her behalf
      Maria makes me laugh

      She’d outpester any pest
      Drive a hornet from its nest
      She could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl
      She is gentle! She is wild!
      She’s a riddle! She’s a child!
      She’s a headache! She’s an angel!
      She’s a girl!

      Oh, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
      How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

    • #16289
      Sudhi
      Participant
    • #16442
      siljan
      Participant

      Back from a trip to the old Country (where people are allergic to spices to quote AHH..lol – and it’s true!) Limited access to WiFi.

      This one is for you Sudhi;

       

       

       

       

    • #16481
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Dear siljan, we have missed you
      here for a while.
      Thanks 🙏

      Dave Brubeck – Take Five

    • #16708
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Don’t cry for me Argentina:

      This is the Rebel Song:

      Sacrifice:

    • #16835
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #16891
      Sudhi
      Participant

      “Manipur May You Heal Soon” – Tiameren Aier (Official Music Video)

      This song is composed for the people of Manipur to bring them together and unite for peace and prosperity. This is an effort by artists from Nagaland (a state in India) to promote peace and tranquility in the state of Manipur.

      Apart from their home state of Nagaland, the Nagas also live in Manipur. They sincerely wish for a cessation of hostilities and concord between the Kuki’s and Meitei’s.

      Let peace prevail in the land 🙏

    • #16900
      siljan
      Participant

      Thanks for this Sudhi. It is sad what is happening in Manipur. This part of the world I know so very little about. ‘Let peace prevail in the land’ amen to that

       

      • #16901
        Sudhi
        Participant

        Dear siljan, thank you for your good wishes and prayers 🙏

        If we blame this hostility as a legacy of the past, it will be inappropriate. The chaos and strife was a failure of both the judiciary as well as the administration. The highest court in India has now taken an active role towards bringing justice, reconciliation, and rehabilitation. It is the duty of the administration to get its act together and strictly punish those who break the law.

        The people of India, including these from its north eastern states, sincerely hope for an end to this feud.

    • #17006
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Maa/ ba/ dahr/ az/ paye/ maal/ aamadem
      Kaz/ paye/ tahseel-kamaal/ aamadem
      – Amir Khusrow

      We have not come to this world to amass wealth, but to acquire knowledge and perfection

    • #17063
      Dimitar
      Participant

      understanding who and what we are,

      brings the required perspective

      allowing us to cultivate spiritual grace

      and so face every challenge

      that process of becoming

      enables us to accept God’s will,

      we gradually let go of the struggle

      and realise everything is for our own good

       

    • #17069
      siljan
      Participant

      Hello Dimitar, nice to see you here ! I love your poetry !

      “And we know that for all those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose”

    • #17084
      Sudhi
      Participant

      The rain stopped
      From behind the Banana leaves
      A butterfly flew away

    • #17096
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Dear Siljan, many thanks for the welcome and kind words.

      It is certainly a joy to find you here, and a blessing as doing so is a kind of ‘second wind’ for all of us who were previously friends at Andrej’s Moveable Feast Cafe. I’m grateful to be back and look forward to have another opportunity to share our humble views. Still a little at sea with the formatting here, eg; I was able to add images at the Daily Chronicles, but am unable to do so here. Discussed with amarynth, but so far have not been able to get through the tech issues. Sudhi, thanks for the lovely haiku, I’m a little crestfallen I can’t add an image, but here is the link to my haiku below, http://valenis.net/gallery4.php#image-4

       

      sudden downpour,
      a pair of rainsoaked crows –
      on the way home

    • #17132
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #17137
      siljan
      Participant

       

       

       

       

    • #17217
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Someone sitting contentedly

      in a quiet place, excited about things yet to come,

      who’s not himself longed for by anyone

      is a postcard to the rest of us

      Rumi

      (Open Secret; Translations Coleman Barks)

      • #17270
        Sudhi
        Participant

        For a day, just for one day,
        Talk about that which disturbs no one
        And bring some peace into your
        Beautiful eyes
        شمس الدین محمد حافظ / Shams-al-Din Mohammad Hafez,
        The Subject Tonight Is Love:
        60 Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz

    • #17218
      Dimitar
      Participant

      soul cannot be bound

      up in fear and worry and

      expect to be free

       

      do not fear pain for

      God is taking away that

      which you no longer need

       

      as the sun must shine

      and the bird sing, so too

      must man love

       

      make love thy master, for

      love is God and whosoever

      loves shall find God

       

      soul dwells beyond time

      and space in that nameless world

      ye know as God

    • #17219
      Dimitar
      Participant
      the hidden secret
      is that giving of ourselves
      to others brings love
      
      (Ok, just worked out the Preformatted thing, so will avoid that double spacing in future.
    • #17220
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Lol, not quite it seems. Ok, if anyone can help me in avoiding the double spacing, please do so.

       

    • #17306
      siljan
      Participant

       

       

       

    • #17350
      Sudhi
      Participant

    • #17473
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Viktor Tsoi – A pack of cigarettes

      I am looking out
      of someone’s window
      and seeing someone’s sky
      I can’t see the star that’s mine,
      I roamed on the roads
      here and there
      Now, when looking back,
      I couldn’t trace my footprints.

      But if there’s a pack of cigarettes
      in my pocket
      Then the day’s not all that bad,
      And a boarding pass
      to a silver-wing-plane,
      That takes off leaving
      just a shadow behind.

      No one wants to be found guilty
      without a crime,
      No one wants to pick up embers
      with bare hands
      And death without music
      is not romantic,
      So I wouldn’t want to die
      without music.

      But if there’s a pack of cigarettes
      in my pocket
      Then the day’s not all that bad,
      And a boarding pass
      to a silver-wing-plane,
      That takes off leaving
      just a shadow behind.

    • #17494
      Dimitar
      Participant

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwugFK3iChw

      Suzanne Vega; Rosemary

      Do you remember when you walked with me
      Down the street into the square
      How the women selling rosemary
      Pressed the branches to your chest
      Promised luck and all the rest
      And put their fingers in your hair

      I had met you just the day before
      Like an accident of fate
      In the window there behind your door
      How I wanted to break in
      To that room beneath your skin
      But all that would have to wait

      In the Carmen of the Martyrs
      With the statues in the courtyard
      Whose heads and hands were taken
      In the burden of the sun
      I had come to meet you
      With a question in my footsteps
      I was going up the hillside
      And the journey just begun

      My sister says she never dreams at night
      There are days when I know why
      Those possibilities within her sight
      With no way of coming true
      Some things just don’t get through
      Into this world, although they try

      In the Carmen of the Martyr
      With the statues in the courtyard
      Whose heads and hands were taken
      In the burden of the sun
      I had come to meet you
      With a question in my footsteps
      I was going up the hillside
      And the journey just begun
      All I know of you
      Is in my memory
      All I ask is you
      Remember me

       

       

    • #17495
      Dimitar
      Participant

      invisible tables

      of atoms uphold the world

      where you and I meet

    • #17500
      Sudhi
      Participant

      ज़िंदगी क्या है अनासिर में ज़ुहूर-ए-तरतीब
      मौत क्या है इन्हीं अज्ज़ा का परेशाँ होना

      two translations:

      What is life; a delicate balance of the five elements,
      What is death; a slight disturbance of this equilibrium.

      Life,
      When elements become ordered, that’s all
      Death,
      But a moment when into chaos they fall

      – Brij Narain Chakbast (1882-1926)

      • #17509
        Dimitar
        Participant

        ruminations on life and death

         

        there is death,

        so to speak, on every plane

        in God’s universes

         

        that understanding

        can only be grasped, and never

        comprehended

         

        he who would save his

        life will surely lose it

         

        we escaped the storm, our house is gone,

        it should matter, but it doesn’t;

        this meeting again with you

        was worth all that

         

        no soul is ever

        alone when crossing the

        borders of death

         

        death is only a

        doorway to greater life;

        be wise and let go

        of that which you can no longer

        hold onto

         

        a man is not defeated

        by external circumstances, but

        by ignorance of the laws of life

    • #17531
      Sudhi
      Participant

      If We Lived Infinitely:

      If we lived infinitely
      Everything would change
      But since we are finite
      Most things stay the same.

      – Bertolt Brecht

      • #17534
        Dimitar
        Participant

        everything man touches turns to ash,                                                                                                                   everything soul touches turns to gold;                                                                                                                      which would you rather be?

        • #17553
          Sudhi
          Participant

          does not the soul reside in every man
          through him the soul would make
          contact with all of the world
          what then is ash what is gold

          • #17557
            Dimitar
            Participant

            While the lower nature of man rules humanity, man will sow death and destruction.  It is the conscious few who lead humanity by example and show the way forward. Truth is never for the masses who are willing to allow themselves to be straight-jacketed into conformity with very little complaint or resistance. Yes, Soul, is inborn and indestructable, but in a dormant or unrealized state. Apparently the task of thinking for one’s self is too much for man, and he is willing to be led to slaughter like mute beasts. We saw this recently with the Covid “pandemic”.

            Truth therefore is only for the individual, who is willing to make the necessary sacrifices out of love for truth alone, and for no other reason or personal interest. Man, over many lifetimes, eventually comes to the realisation that  by surrendering his fears, and attachments, he finds life. That is, by giving up his life he finds it. This is the divine paradox, as all great teachers who have come to uplift mankind, have taught.

            There is an irony in all this. Spiritual law states that none may interfere uninvited in the consciousness of another. The individual alone is responsible for  himself, and must therefore bear respeonsibilty for what he creates in this world well as the invisible worlds, ie; our thoughts, feelings and so on.  Until man has had enough of the wheel of reincarnation, he will not take up the ploughshare and make the sacrifices necessary to step onto the spiritual path. This is what I was alluding to with my couplets. Ashes are what results of man’s selfishness, simply look at the world around us and what we have done with it, the oceans for example. Whereas, the spiritually oriented man, creates (spiritual) gold with every conscious act of love because he has become a fit conduit for the Music of the Spheres, or the Voice of God. This is what I was getting at, friend.

            And we are faced with that choice every moment of every day.

            only those who love God                                                                                                              are able to repel the scorn                                                                                                                and slander of the world like                                                                                                            water falling from the rubber tree leaf

            • #17594
              Sudhi
              Participant

              Thank you, Dimitar, for the commentary 🙏

    • #17596
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Resham Firiri is an old and very popular traditional Nepali song.

      “Resham Firiri, Resham Firiri,
      Oodera jaunki, danra ma bhanjyang Resham Firiri.”
      My heart is fluttering like silk in the wind,
      Shall we fly over or sit at the hilltop?
      Fluttering silk…

      “Kukura lai kuti ma kuti, biralo lai suri
      Timro hamro maya preeti, do bato ma kuri.”
      Call the puppy with love kuti kuti and the cat suri,
      Your love and my love is waiting at the crossroads.

      “Ek nale bandook, dui nale bandook, mirga lai taakeko
      Mirga lai maile taakeko haina, maya lai daake ko.”
      Single-barrel gun, double-barrel gun, aimed at the deer
      It’s not the deer I aim at, I’m calling my beloved.

      “Aakash ma jhahaj shadak ma motor nabahye gada cha
      Yo man jasto tyo man bhayae tagat ghada cha.”
      If there is no plane in the sky and no motors on the road, then there is a cart,
      If both of their hearts are similar, then love will be stronger.

      “Sano ma sano, gaai ko bachho, bheeriama Ram Ram
      Chorera jana sakina maile, baru maya sangai jaun.”
      The poor little calf is about to fall off the cliff,
      I cannot leave you, my love, so let us save him together.

    • #17598
      siljan
      Participant

      Thanks for your words of wisdom Dimitar. Thanks for the music Sudhi.

      ‘There are many dealers, wheelers and brokers but few artists, poets and saints’

      Ooh, yeah! all right!
      We’re jammin’:
      I want to jam it wid you.
      We’re jammin’, jammin’,
      And I hope you like jammin’, too.

      Ain’t no rules, ain’t no vow, we can do it anyhow:
      I’n’I will see you through,
      ‘Cause everyday we pay the price with a little sacrifice,
      Jammin’ till the jam is through.

      We’re jammin’ –
      To think that jammin’ was a thing of the past;
      We’re jammin’,
      And I hope this jam is gonna last.

      No bullet can stop us now, we neither beg nor we won’t bow;
      Neither can be bought nor sold.
      We all defend the right; jah – jah children must unite:
      Your life is worth much more than gold.

      We’re jammin’ (jammin’, jammin’, jammin’)
      And we’re jammin’ in the name of the lord;
      We’re jammin’ (jammin’, jammin’, jammin’),
      We’re jammin’ right straight from yah.

      Yeh! holy mount zion;
      Holy mount zion:
      Jah sitteth in mount zion
      And rules all creation.

      Yeah, we’re – we’re jammin’ (wotcha-wa),
      Wotcha-wa-wa-wa, we’re jammin’ (wotcha-wa),
      See, I want to jam it wid you
      We’re jammin’ (jammin’, jammin’, jammin’)
      I’m jammed: I hope you’re jammin’, too.

      Jam’s about my pride and truth I cannot hide
      To keep you satisfied.
      True love that now exist is the love I can’t resist,
      So jam by my side.

    • #17605
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Thanks, guys. A wonderful version of one my favourite Nirvana songs arranged for solo acoustic guitar by young Russian guitarist, Eiro Nareth.

      Nirvana; “You Know You’re Right” Loud Acoustic Version

       

       

    • #17606
      Dimitar
      Participant

      And thank you both for all of your musical (and other) contributions to The Cornucopia.

      Dragan and Ratko Dautovski; “To Moni” from Apocolytpticum

    • #17607
      Dimitar
      Participant

      A charming short film about making a Macedonian kaval;

      “Just before his death, the legendary kaval player, Mile Kolarov said to me; “As a shepherd boy I knew how to settle my flock. With a melody I could make my sheep climb onto my shoulders like doves.Now as an old man, when sleep eludes me and mythoughts become disturbed, as the sheep did once, I get up and ply my naval in the moonlight to calm and soothe my spirit. I think that the range that these two images span encompasses all the engrossing metaphysical mystery of the naval and it’s
      deathless sound – from a simple, utilitarian, shepherd’s device for settling his flock down to gentle grazing and peaceful, healthy digestion of their food in order to provide an abundance of milk and good quality wool to a musical instrument fitting and worthy of singing the praises of life and all nature and of the divine existence of the soul.”

      The above words are attributed to Macedonian master of the kaval Mile Kolarov, and the below clip is of the master himself, posted by Australian musician, Lindsey Pollack, performing on Australian televison on 1979. An ezgija is essentially a meditative flute solo elaborating on a theme.

      Mile Kolarev; Ezgija

       

    • #17662
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Those who seek to pick a fight                                                                                                                                    See no further than their nose,                                                                                                                                     In tribulation take delight                                                                                                                                                And rejoice in every dying rose.

      But victory comes not from up above                                                                                                                            And cannot be multiplied by powers of ten                                                                                                             Tis won through simple acts of love                                                                                                                        That spring from the selfless hearts of men

      • #17663
        Dimitar
        Participant

        I don’t know about anyone else, but I am having trouble with the formatting here. Does not seem to follow a logic that I’m able to grasp. Oh well, I’ll keep trying.

    • #17664
      Dimitar
      Participant

      Victory

      Those who seek to pick a fight

      See no further than their nose,

      In tribulation take delight

      And rejoice in every dying rose.

      But victory comes not from up above

      And cannot be multiplied by powers of ten

      Tis won through simple acts of love

      That spring from the selfless hearts of men

    • #17688
      Dimitar
      Participant

      dreading the future,                                                                                                                                                           dreading the past,                                                                                                                                                            caught in the narrowest of nows                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     hoping for this,                                                                                                                                                                    hoping for that,                                                                                                                                                                   held sway by a multitude of ‘hows’                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               when the emotions are shot                                                                                                                                             and the fire burns hot,                                                                                                                                                      and the flames they lap at your heels                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            burn all your crosses,                                                                                                                                                         surrender your losses,                                                                                                                                                   let go of all of your ‘steals’                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             for the burdens you bear                                                                                                                                                  aren’t worth the care,                                                                                                                                                        blinding you as they do to the day                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 unravel the spin,                                                                                                                                                                 let the silence back in,                                                                                                                                                      and in no time you’ll be back on your way!

      • #17689
        Dimitar
        Participant

        Well that’s gotta be one of the most “creative” posts I’ve ever done.

         

    • #17691
      Dimitar
      Participant

       

      In No Time

      Dreading the future, dreading the past,

      Caught in the narrowest of nows.

      Hoping for this, hoping for that,

      Held sway by a multitude of ‘hows’.

      When the emotions are shot and the fire burns hot,

      And the flames they lap at your heels.

      Burn all your crosses, surrender your losses,

      Let go of all of your ‘steals’.

      For the burdens you bear aren’t worth the care,

      Blinding you as they do to the day.

      Unravel the spin, let the silence back in,

      And in no time you’ll be back on your way!

    • #17724
      Sudhi
      Participant

      The Italian singer and songwriter Toto Cutugno has passed away at the age of 80 https://ria.ru/20230822/kutuno-1891611584.html

    • #17893
      Sudhi
      Participant

      Kabir lived in Benares, India, in the 15th century. He was a weaver, a free-thinker and mystic, and opposed ritualism and false piety. Kabir’s own religious identity was ambiguous. His followers included both Hindus and Muslims. He wrote a large number of poems and songs in simple Hindi, which are still sung across north India even today.

      The great Pandit Kumar Gandharva had delved deep into the mystical music tradition inspired by Kabir’s compositions.
      Here is the master singing Kabir’s
      “Ud Jayega Hans Akela”

      A translation:
      What is this world,
      if not a play of illusions,
      the swan (individual soul) will fly away alone from this play

      Just like it is difficult to trace a leaf
      that falls away from the tree,
      Who knows where we go when
      the winds of death scatter us

      When our allotted time on earth is up,
      when we cease to act in this drama,
      Then, the messengers of Death (Yama)
      will arrive to carry us away,
      forcefully if need be

      Kabir is immersed in the praise of the one Lord
      and requests an early audience with the Lord,
      Each one, guru and disciple alike,
      will reap the fruits of their respective actions

    • #18091
      Dimitar
      Participant

      the winds sing and the                                                                                                                             lilies spin and everything                                                                                                                      is as it should be

    • #18124
      Sudhi
      Participant

      i am listless for that
      moonrise of beauty
      which will light my life
      in gladness of my heart

    • #18130
      amarynth
      Keymaster

      Hi all

      Siljan asked for a new thread as this one is getting long.  The new one is there, same name, just with a Take Two at the end of the name.

      If you use that one, it will sort first in the list.

       

       

       

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