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MUSE LOG: Judariya |
Category: The Muse-eum 8 comments 14 Mar 2005 @ 08:56 by Amy Coon @216.108.208.37 : THANKSthank you so much!these words bring me such hope and inspiration! i felt as if i were fading away, because i did not know who or what i want to become at this very moment in time.thanks for making me see that it will become clear in all do time. 24 Feb 2006 @ 14:25 by rayon : Is Jeff here? Is Adonis Jeff here, in oil painting style - me thinks so, what a lucky find - a real picture a care worn glance - a real person true but unhappiness I do not allow - for such appears to be as thou The most touching thing to happen here A Puja offered to someone near Ancient languages contain a purety of meaning untouched by any modern hand just retranslated knowingly by the day by seekers of a bit of treasure in the hope of finding something more for humankind So the well is always preserved for those Pure and clean and sweet to savour Newly for the sipping so my puja here for the well and all the passers by Inspired by the well on the Aum Temple walk, Atmasantulana, Karla 20 Mar 2006 @ 16:27 by nraye @80.176.105.234 : Took awhile to realise why when writing the history not just me but the other too asking for sign then off to hills Even before I did fib in shock to learn but turned around for advantage all to theorectical bias this love was feinted but formed a trap for the future fall upon an order from Kercornawall when welcoming, the font sprung of own accord free from unknown but falling further still into even more unknown Clear is now, waters calm pain dispersed in aftermath Muse has left 10 Apr 2006 @ 04:20 by bombadil : Temporary Poem Of My Time by {link:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yehudah_Amichai|Yehuda Amichai} - Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav, [A Life of Poetry: 1948-1994, New York, HarperCollins, 1994] Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east. Languages are like cats: You must not stroke their hair the wrong way. The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert, The trees bend in the wind, And stones fly from all four winds, Into all four winds. They throw stones, Throw this land, one at the other, But the land always falls back to the land. They throw the land, want to get rid of it. Its stones, its soil, but you can't get rid of it. They throw stones, throw stones at me In 1936, 1938, 1948, 1988, Semites throw at Semites and anti-Semites at anti-Semites, Evil men throw and just men throw, Sinners throw and tempters throw, Geologists throw and theologists throw, Archaelogists throw and archhooligans throw, Kidneys throw stones and gall bladders throw, Head stones and forehead stones and the heart of a stone, Stones shaped like a screaming mouth And stones fitting your eyes Like a pair of glasses, The past throws stones at the future, And all of them fall on the present. Weeping stones and laughing gravel stones, Even God in the Bible threw stones, Even the Urim and Tumim were thrown And got stuck in the beastplate of justice, And Herod threw stones and what came out was a Temple. Oh, the poem of stone sadness Oh, the poem thrown on the stones Oh, the poem of thrown stones. Is there in this land A stone that was never thrown And never built and never overturned And never uncovered and never discovered And never screamed from a wall and never discarded by the builders And never closed on top of a grave and never lay under lovers And never turned into a cornerstone? Please do not throw any more stones, You are moving the land, The holy, whole, open land, You are moving it to the sea And the sea doesn't want it The sea says, not in me. Please throw little stones, Throw snail fossils, throw gravel, Justice or injustice from the quarries of Migdal Tsedek, Throw soft stones, throw sweet clods, Throw limestone, throw clay, Throw sand of the seashore, Throw dust of the desert, throw rust, Throw soil, throw wind, Throw air, throw nothing Until your hands are weary And the war is weary And even peace will be weary and will be. 10 Apr 2006 @ 15:26 by rayon : Just looking out for a friend - Yes, I understand, when my forebears moved to farm for a group of nuns who were returned their property 400 years later in 1850, as catholics, in this English speaking country, they were greeted by the locals with stone throwing, 1850 in rural idyll England. 11 Apr 2006 @ 01:18 by Hanae @69.33.46.10 : Poetry & beauty are always making peace Thank you, Bombadil-san Although, unavoidably, a lot is often lost in a translation, it is one of the bounties of the Information Age, and one horizon-widening blessing of the internet, that this age of information is also an age of translation. It works, undoubtedly, to the benefit of a New---wider, more encompassing---Civilization that we can open ourselves in such a fashion to other voices---especially in some of the troubled parts of the world. "Poetry and beauty are always making peace. When you read something beautiful you find coexistence; it breaks walls down..." ---Mahmoud Darwish MAHMOUD DARWISH is acclaimed as one of the most important voices in the Arab language. He is beloved as the poet laureate of Palestine and the voice of his people. His lyrics are sung by school-children and field workers. He has authored 20 books and he received the 2001 Prize for Cultural Freedom from the Lannan Foundation. The late YEHUDA AMICHAI (1924 - 2000) remains one of Israel's leading poet and is widely acknowledged as one of the great poets of our time. His work has been translated into thirty-seven languages. His work incorporates the diction and meaning of revered Jewish texts and beliefs. He has received numerous awards, including the Israel Prize, his country's highest honor. 11 Apr 2006 @ 09:36 by rayon : Peace in Translation What a beautiful example illustrated of something not realised before. The connotation is huge, suggesting all translations of long lost texts and ancient languages can again infuse the current now across barriers of peoples. It is truely lovely. Guess I worked only ever in one language at a given time, and internalised at that, saying the poetry is to externalise. The Heroes that Pindar extolled into immortality was a translation of deeds, coordination of Body/Mind demonstration with huge audience witnessing, converted into another medium, poetry, for onward transmission. Thanks indeed Bombardi-san. 19 Apr 2006 @ 16:42 by rayon : Music too changes the site, makes to look with different eyes and other ears, very beautiful music thank you. Hard to move on! Other musings in The Muse-eum 12 Jul 2004 @ 11:13: The Nameless 4 Jul 2004 @ 19:33: Moriae Encomium 14 Jun 2004 @ 09:43: Defying Gravity 7 Jun 2004 @ 18:15: The Stuff 25 May 2004 @ 10:51: Healing Israel/Palestine 28 Apr 2004 @ 12:14: Place Your Bid 3 Apr 2004 @ 17:08: The Hunted Sky 1 Apr 2004 @ 12:15: Orlando 21 Mar 2004 @ 17:55: Walking a Literary Labyrinth 16 Mar 2004 @ 17:17: ¿quien sabe que?
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17 Mar 2004 @ 16:54, by Tom Bombadil
