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Автор Тема: SONGS OF FAREWELL  (Прочитано 3839 раз)

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rowan

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Yes!
« Ответ #9 : 05 °ТУгбв 2002, 18:08:54 »
Цитата: "Stranger"
Dear rowan:

Thank you for your eloquent and profound reply.

Where did you learn your English so well?



O, thank you!
It's true. Here it seems like I have outclassed=beaten myself a little bit.
You really inspired me to do my very best!

I learned English at school and, later, in Tomsk institute of ACS and radio electronics.

Stranger

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SONGS OF FAREWELL
« Ответ #8 : 04 °ТУгбв 2002, 16:40:30 »
Dear rowan:

Thank you for your eloquent and profound reply.

Where did you learn your English so well?

rowan

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not necessarily silence
« Ответ #7 : 04 °ТУгбв 2002, 03:22:22 »
Цитата: "Stranger"

How about the Christ? He could hardly be called "Silence"...

"The Word" along with its reduction "a word" also seem to be of a "Divine" nature.
 
I am sincerely interested in your opinion.


Thank you.
I very much appreciate your interest in my opinion and  I agree that "a word", being flesh of "The Word" is of a Divine nature.

I also want to make clear that I like your Rumi works and I liked your Songs of Farewell very much, especially Gifts and Sonnet II.
And the verse that I wrote was actually a reply to your Sonnet I:
Цитировать

I thought I had my words of Love for you,
I wanted all of them to be presented here
To sound fresh, and bright, and sweet, and new...
However, all the words had disappeared.


I promise to give my answer to your question in the end of this message, and now, please let me put some more light to the motives that led me to writing my poetic response.  Please note, that I would not risk to occupy your attention if I were not sure that my further comments would help to state my point of view.
   
From the Sonnet I I hastily grasped a picture, which I will try to expound:
The poet found no words to speak about what he "universilized" inside of him.
This poet is a real Master of words. He possessed the strength and the delicacy of his instrument, he penetrated the deepness of magic nature of sound, he was a scholar and a practician, he descried the laws and found out the secrets.
Words has become his playground and his World Divine. When he speaks of God he echoes God speaking of Himself.
He has long ago become a Master of  words, but now his servants refused to function and Love remained unspoken.
What happened?
Did Love abandon the poet? Was It not just a long time illusion of his? And the most terrifying: is the poet's faith real or is his faith strong enough?
Цитировать

One can't describe true feeling with a word,
That Love turned dull like a fictitious sword.


The picture I assumed also provoked some thoughts:
Maybe the Master turned into a hostage of his art and his instruments? He obviously thinks he is nothing without his words.
He fears to lose something and he dares not leave his magic kingdom. But what will he lose? His perfection and his role of a messenger. Who cares about the perfection and the role having become consolidated in the Divine?
The poet has long ago become Message but he still thinks he is envoy. The kingdom of words has been given to him to reveal the Divine and to make It's Presence Real.
The appeal: O Stranger, stay aloft and be what He desires does not necessarily mean "go silent", whatsoever.  
:

I'm ready to assume that my vision of the picture is quite notional and does not resemble reality.

I don't mind changing the line "Divine is silence, word is accidence".
And I invite you to  propose your version of this line. Of course, if you think that the rest of the verse allows to hope it's worth  your efforts.


Speaking about Jesus Christ, who certainly was not "silence"...
I think that we know much about people who spoke, and we know little or perhaps nothing about those who didn't.

Sincerely yours.

Stranger

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"Divine is Silence, word is accidence"
« Ответ #6 : 02 °ТУгбв 2002, 23:16:06 »
rowan wrote:

"Divine is Silence, word is accidence"

Thank you for your enlightening comment.

Your statement above provokes some thoughts.

How about the Christ? He could hardly be called "Silence"...

"The Word" along with its reduction "a word" also seem to be of a "Divine" nature.
 
I am sincerely interested in your opinion.

rowan

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accidense
« Ответ #5 : 02 °ТУгбв 2002, 21:46:31 »
Stranger wrote:
About the word "accsidence" you use. Is it a word "ACCIDENCE" that means a grammatical change?


This word "accidence" just happened to rhyme there good enough before I checked up the meaning. And the meaning also seemed to be all right.

ACCIDENCE:  1. morphology; 2. elements, basics of something,
So I dared to laeve the line the way it was.

"Divine is Silence, word is accidence"
Here I attempted to say that Silence or Pause is Divine, but Words are the basic elements that set it in a frame and configure the whole three: Word-Pause-Word.
For the Silence needs to be announced and needs to be completed.

Still one would hardly object that word happens to be the least expressive element in the Presence Divine, and most likely remains only as a unit of morphological analysis.


 :shock:

Stranger

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Re: first humble one
« Ответ #4 : 02 °ТУгбв 2002, 17:33:32 »
Цитата: "Anonymous"

Divine is silence, word is accsidence.



Thank you for your poetic response.

"In the beginning was the Word..."

About the word "accsidence" you use. Is it a word "ACCIDENCE" that means a grammatical change?

rowan

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...
« Ответ #3 : 02 °ТУгбв 2002, 14:01:44 »

...the Poet's growth.

Anonymous

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first humble one
« Ответ #2 : 02 °ТУгбв 2002, 13:16:14 »

When Overwhelming Presence one aspires,
It comes that words no longer serve to make the least of sense.
O Stranger, stay aloft and be what He desires,
Divine is silence, word is accsidence.

Whatever language chooses what comes forth,
Beyond the language reigns the poet's growth.

Stranger

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SONGS OF FAREWELL
« Ответ #1 : 01 °ТУгбв 2002, 21:31:19 »
SONGS OF FAREWELL

Dedication

I dedicate my poems to you, my poignant Love.
I want my words to be for you and there,
When I am gone. Like Hands from the above
My poems will come to you at a moment of despair.


Sonnet I

I thought I had my words of Love for you,
I wanted all of them to be presented here
To sound fresh, and bright, and sweet, and new...
However, all the words had disappeared.

I'd tried to find them in every place I could,
I'd looked through every book I ever opened.
I was so kind with my words, I wasn't ever rude.
Why had they left my Love to be unspoken?

Words always served my deepest thoughts with pride,
They helped me to maintain genre and style,
They were teachers, friends, my lighting guide...
But failed to return my Love, and left me with a smile.

One can't describe true feeling with a word,
That Love turned dull like a fictitious sword.


Gifts

With no regrets I gave you what I could:
I gave you all my bad and all my good,

I gave my fantasies, I gave my thoughts,
I gave my secret dreams, and all my odds.      

But when I tried to give my heart and soul
You said that you don't need my gifts at all.  


Sonnet II

Some people pray for power and success,
Some pray for a better life, or occupation,  
Some pray for food, to win a game of chess,
Some pray for help in pain, or frustration.

Most people pray for Love they never need,
And getting precious Gift they dare to compare.
Then they sincerely confess in their greed,    
Just to continue the same worthless prayer.

I pray to sacrifice my hopeless Love and passion,
For an exchange to get your inner peace,  
I pray for helping you not to fall into transgression,
And I shall stay for that forever on my knees.    

I pray to God to turn your heart in stone,
When times come and you are all alone.


Epitaph

I am a bird that sings for you,
I am the sky that you enjoy...
I hide myself disguising in these few
You can't ignore to be your ploy.

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