med_cat: (Hourglass)
[ profile] elenbarathi reminded me of this poem yesterday--I don't recall if I'd posted it here before, but either way, here you are :)

If They Come in the Night

Long ago on a night of danger and vigil
a friend said, why are you happy?
He explained (we lay together
on a cold hard floor) what prison
meant because he had done
time, and I talked of the death
of friends. Why are you happy
then, he asked, close to

"I said, I like my life..." )
med_cat: (Hourglass)
You must match time’s swiftness with your speed in using it, and you must drink quickly as though from a rapid stream that will not always flow…

Just as travelers are beguiled by conversation or reading or some profound meditation, and find they have arrived at their destination before they knew they were approaching it; so it is with this unceasing and extremely fast-moving journey of life, which waking or sleeping we make at the same pace — the preoccupied become aware of it only when it is over.

med_cat: (woman reading)

same in text format: )

(and yes, I know there's a misplaced apostrophe and some other errors; I didn't make this graphic)
med_cat: (cat in dress)
Life Owes Me Nothing

Life owes me nothing. Let the years
Bring cloud or azure, joy or tears;
Already a full cup I’ve quaffed;
Already wept and loved and laughed.
And seen, in ever-endless ways,
New beauties overwhelm the days.

Life owes me nought. No pain that waits
Can steal the wealth from memory’s gates;
No aftermath of anguish slow
Can quench the soul fire’s early glow.
I breathe, exulting every breath,
Embracing Life, ignoring Death.

Life owes me nothing. One clear morn
Is boon enough for being born;
And be it ninety years or ten,
No need for me to question when.
While Life is mine, I’ll find it good.
And greet each hour with gratitude.

med_cat: (cat in dress)
“Waiting for a sign? What sign do you await, besides your own misery? What sign, besides the calendar that reminds you how many days and years you’ve thrown away?

What other sign do you need besides the burning inner fire that demands you’re better than what you’ve settled for?
Stop lying to yourself! You have seen so many signs… you know what you want… no more delays… no more excuses!

Our days are too limited to wait for signs… Life IS a sign! Go live it!”

~ Steve Maraboli
med_cat: (Hourglass)

Thomas Edwin Mostyn (British, 1864-1930)
Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May,1899
Oil on canvas ; 36 x 60 inches
Rehs Galleries

(reposted from [ profile] elle_belle10's FB pg)

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
Robert Herrick, 1591 - 1674

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,... )
med_cat: (Hourglass)
I thought I'd posted this before, but it seems I hadn't; I must remedy the omission...

Mimnermus in Church

YOU promise heavens free from strife,
Pure truth, and perfect change of will;
But sweet, sweet is this human life,
So sweet, I fain would breathe it still;
Your chilly stars I can forgo,
This warm kind world is all I know.

You say there is no substance here,
One great reality above:
Back from that void I shrink in fear,
And child-like hide myself in love:
Show me what angels feel. Till then
I cling, a mere weak man, to men.

You bid me lift my mean desires
From faltering lips and fitful veins
To sexless souls, ideal quires,
Unwearied voices, wordless strains:
My mind with fonder welcome owns
One dear dead friend's remember'd tones.

Forsooth the present we must give
To that which cannot pass away;
All beauteous things for which we live
By laws of time and space decay.
But O, the very reason why
I clasp them, is because they die.

William (Johnson) Cory. 1823–1892


Dec. 16th, 2015 06:23 am
med_cat: (Spring tulips)
Rabindranath Tagore

O my love, what gift of mine
Shall I give you this dawn?
A morning song?
But morning does not last long—
The heat of the sun
Wilts like a flower
And songs that tire
Are done.

Read more... )
med_cat: (cat in dress)
"We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand...and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late."

(Marie Beynon Ray)
med_cat: (cat in dress)
* * *
Мы знаем: время растяжимо.
Оно зависит от того,
Какого рода содержимым
Вы наполняете его.

Read more... )

* * *

We know: time is stretchable.
It depends on
The kind of contents
With which you fill the time.

Read more... )
med_cat: (Hourglass)

When death comes

like the hungry bear in autumn;

when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;

when death comes

like the measle-pox

when death comes

like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: )
med_cat: (Hourglass)

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.

Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?

Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

(Mary Oliver)

Read further in this article from Brainpickings


Jul. 24th, 2015 09:05 am
med_cat: (Ad astra)


Dear Ones -

Yesterday I posted a message about not giving up on your daydream, and a lovely follower of this page asked what you should do if you have "too much family stuff" going on in order to live your dream?

In other words, what if you are simply too busy?

Read more... )

Carpe diem

Jun. 23rd, 2015 06:01 am
med_cat: (Spring garden)
Originally posted by [ profile] leto_12 --many thanks!

попробуй съесть хоть одно яблоко
без вот этого своего вздоха
о современном обществе, больном наглухо,
о себе, у которого всё так плохо;

побудь с яблоком, с его зёрнами, )

try to eat at least one apple
without this sigh of yours
about the modern society, hopelessly sick
and about yourself, for whom everything is going wrong;

just be with the apple, with its seeds, )

med_cat: (Hourglass)
           * * *
Наслаждайтесь: все проходит!
То благой, то строгий к нам,
Своенравно рок приводит
Нас к утехам и к бедам.
Чужд он долгого пристрастья:
Вы, чья жизнь полна красы
На лету ловите счастья
Ненадежные часы.
Не ропщите: все проходит,
И ко счастью иногда
Неожиданно приводит
Нас суровая беда.
И веселью и печали
На изменчивой земле
Боги праведные дали
Одинакие криле.


The Lapse

May. 23rd, 2015 07:29 am
med_cat: (cat in dress)
This poem must be done to-day;
Then, I 'll e'en to it.
I must not dream my time away,--
I 'm sure to rue it.
The day is rather bright, I know
The Muse will pardon
My half-defection, if I go
Into the garden.
It must be better working there,--
I 'm sure it's sweeter:
And something in the balmy air
May clear my metre.

In the garden: )
med_cat: (Ad astra)
“Let whatever you do today be enough. Let go of the judgement you have about what you should be or could be doing, and today, allow yourself to simply be. Comparing yourself and your journey may be habitual, but it gets you nowhere. It makes you feel worse and it keeps you stuck.

So stop fixating on where everyone else is, and start giving yourself permission to be exactly where you are. Quiet the voice telling you to do more and be more, and trust that in this moment, who you are, where you are at, and what you are doing is enough. You will get to where you need to be in your own time. Until then, breathe.

Breathe and be patient with yourself and your process. You are doing the best you can to cope and survive amid your struggles, and that’s all you can ask of yourself. It’s enough. You are enough.”

– Daniell Koepke
med_cat: (Hourglass)
The Lost Hotels of Paris
by Jack Gilbert

The Lord gives everything and charges
by taking it back. What a bargain.
Like being young for a while. We are
allowed to visit hearts of women,
to go into their bodies so we feel
no longer alone. We are permitted
romantic love with its bounty and half-life
of two years. It is right to mourn
for the small hotels of Paris that used to be
when we used to be. My mansard looking
down on Notre Dame every morning is gone,
and me listening to the bell at night.
Venice is no more. The best Greek Islands
have drowned in acceleration. But it's the having
not the keeping that is the treasure.
Ginsberg came to my house one afternoon
and said he was giving up poetry
because it told lies, that language distorts.
I agreed, but asked what we have
that gets it right even that much.
We look up at the stars and they are
not there. We see the memory
of when they were, once upon a time.
And that too is more than enough.

(Reposted from [ profile] aimlesswanderer at [ profile] greatpoets)

med_cat: (Spring garden)
Summer Song
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The meadow lark’s trill and the brown thrush’s whistle
From morning to evening fill all the sweet air,
And my heart is as light as the down of a thistle –
The world is so bright and the earth is so fair.

There is life in the wood,
There is bloom on the meadow;
The air drops with songs that the merry birds sing.
The sunshine has won, in the battle with shadow,
And she’s dressed the glad earth with robes of the spring.

The bee leaves his hive for the field of red clover
And the vale where the daisies bloom white as the snow,
And a mantle of warm yellow sunshine hangs over
The calm little pond, where the pale lillies grow.

In the woodland beyond it, a thousand gay voices
Are singing in chorus some jubilant air.
The bird and the bee and all nature rejoices,
The world is so bright, and the earth is so fair.

I am glad as a child, in this beautiful weather;
I have tossed all my burdens and trials away;
My heart is as light – yes, as light as a feather; -
I am care-free, and careless, and happy to-day.

Can it be there approaches a dark, dreary to-morrow?
Can shadows e’er fall on this beautiful earth?
Ah! To-day is my own! No forebodings of sorrow
Shall darken my skies, or shall dampen my mirth.
med_cat: (cat in dress)

Не ходите в собственное прошлое
Не тревожьте память понапрасну
Не вернуть из юности хорошее
Это - и печально и прекрасно.

Don't go into your own past,
Don't trouble your memory in vain
You can't bring back the good things from your youth
And that is both sad and wonderful.

Не ищите нынче очищения
От греха иль глупости нечаянной
Не исправить в прошлом прегрешения
Это - и прекрасно и печально.

Do not seek today to be purified
Of former sin or unintended foolishness
The transgressions of the past can't be redeemed
And that is both sad and wonderful.

Read more... )


med_cat: (Default)

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