694d
Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman with no clue what it is fluttering, happy, doubtful I love you like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time (Nazim Hikmet)
694d
(True Love, Szymborska) - True love. Is it normal is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in a world of their own?
694d
Placed on the same pedestal for no good reason, drawn randomly from millions but convinced it had to happen this way – in reward for what? For nothing.
694d
The light descends from nowhere. Why on these two and not on others? Doesn’t this outrage justice? Yes it does. Doesn’t it disrupt our painstakingly erected principles,
694d
and cast the moral from the peak? Yes on both accounts.Look at the happy couple. Couldn’t they at least try to hide it, fake a little depression for their friends’ sake? Listen to them laughing
694d
it’s an insult. The language they use – deceptively clear. And their little celebrations, rituals, the elaborate mutual routines – it’s obviously a plot behind the human race’s back!
694d
It’s hard even to guess how far things might go if people start to follow their example.What could religion and poetry count on?What would be remembered?What renounced?
694d
Who’d want to stay within bounds? True love. Is it really necessary? Tact and common sense tell us to pass over it in silence, like a scandal in Life’s highest circles.
694d
Perfectly good children are born without its help. It couldn’t populate the planet in a million years, it comes along so rarely.
694d
Permanent cringe. I have seen it all.
694d
Let the people who never find true love keep saying that there’s no such thing. Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.
694d
"Openess", Szymborska - Here we are, naked lovers, beautiful to each other—and that's enough. The leaves of our eyelids our only covers, we're lying amidst deep night.
694d
But they know about us, they know, the four corners, and the chairs nearby us. Discerning shadows also know, and even the table keeps quiet.
694d
Our teacups know full well why the tea is getting cold. And old Swift can surely tell that his book's been put on hold.
694d
Even the birds are in the know: I saw them writing in the sky brazenly and openly the very name I call you by.
694d
The trees? Could you explain to me their unrelenting whispering? The wind may know, you say to me, but how is just a mystery.
694d
A moth surprised us through the blinds, its wings in fuzzy flutter. Its silent path—see how it winds in a stubborn holding pattern.
694d
Maybe it sees where our eyes fail with an insect's inborn sharpness. I never sensed, nor could you tell that our hearts were aglow in the darkness.
694d
"The Tyger", William Blake - Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
694d
In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?
694d
And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?
694d
What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
694d
When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
694d
Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
502d
"Tuesday, just an ordinary day, nothing Unusual about it at all, but today Every person that I passed Seemed miserable, lost Doleful and downhearted...."
502d
"... As I watched them go by I wanted to say, 'You should be glad of every day given you.' "