Digest Number 2556

[Guest guest]

Regarding

Sunday, June 20, 2004 6:41 AM

Digest Number 2556

 

 

I didn't see the poems in this message in the digest.

2. Gitanjali & Morning Jpeg Joy

"Mazie Lane" <sraddha54

 

However I was able to read the poems in the copy in message 9.

Just wanted to say they were exquisite.

Thank you, thank you and thank you.

A beautiful oasis in online ville.

 

love josie

 

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Message: 9

Sun, 20 Jun 2004 10:14:30 +0200

Sam <S.Pasiencier

Re: Gitanjali & Morning Jpeg Joy

 

Pictures didn't show, Sam

-

Mazie Lane

Sunday, June 20, 2004 3:40 AM

Gitanjali & Morning Jpeg Joy

 

 

 

Only Thee

 

 

That I want thee, only thee---let my heart repeat without end.

 

All desires that distract me, day and night,

 

are false and empty to the core.

 

 

 

As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light,

 

even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry

 

---`I want thee, only thee'.

 

 

 

As the storm still seeks its end in peace

 

when it strikes against peace with all its might,

 

even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love

 

and still its cry is

 

---`I want thee, only thee'.

 

 

 

 

 

Light

 

 

 

Light, my light, the world-filling light,

 

the eye-kissing light,

 

heart-sweetening light!

 

 

 

Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life;

 

the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;

 

the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.

 

 

 

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.

 

Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.

 

 

 

The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling,

 

and it scatters gems in profusion.

 

 

 

Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling,

 

and gladness without measure.

 

The heaven's river has drowned its banks

 

and the flood of joy is abroad.

 

 

 

 

 

Seashore

 

 

 

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

 

The infinite sky is motionless overhead

 

and the restless water is boisterous.

 

On the seashore of endless worlds

 

the children meet with shouts and dances.

 

 

 

They build their houses with sand

 

and they play with empty shells.

 

With withered leaves they weave their boats

 

and smilingly float them on the vast deep.

 

Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

 

 

 

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.

 

Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,

 

while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.

 

They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

 

 

 

The sea surges up with laughter

 

and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

 

Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,

 

even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle.

 

The sea plays with children,

 

and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

 

 

 

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

 

Tempest roams in the pathless sky,

 

ships get wrecked in the trackless water,

 

death is abroad and children play.

 

On the seashore of endless worlds is the

 

great meeting of children.

 

 

 

 

 

Old and New

 

 

 

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not.

 

Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own.

 

Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.

 

 

 

I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter;

 

I forget that there abides the old in the new,

 

and that there also thou abidest.

 

 

 

Through birth and death, in this world or in others,

 

wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same,

 

the one companion of my endless life

 

who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar.

 

 

 

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut.

 

Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose

 

the bliss of the touch of the one

 

in the play of many.

 

 

 

 

 

Stream of Life

 

 

 

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day

 

runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

 

 

 

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth

 

in numberless blades of grass

 

and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

 

 

 

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth

 

and of death, in ebb and in flow.

 

 

 

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.

 

And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this

moment.

 

 

 

 

 

Maya

 

 

 

That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides,

 

thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance

 

---such is thy Maya.

 

 

 

Thou settest a barrier in thine own being

 

and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes.

 

This thy self-separation has taken body in me.

 

 

 

The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloued tears

 

and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again,

 

dreams break and form.

 

In me is thy own defeat of self.

 

 

 

This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures

 

with the brush of the night and the day.

 

Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves,

 

casting away all barren lines of straightness.

 

 

 

The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky.

 

With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant,

 

and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me.

 

 

 

 

 

Senses

 

 

 

Deliverance is not for me in renunciation.

 

I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight.

 

 

 

Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various

 

colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim.

 

 

 

My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame

 

and place them before the altar of thy temple.

 

 

 

No, I will never shut the doors of my senses.

 

The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.

 

 

 

Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy,

 

and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.

 

 

 

 

 

Lost Star

 

 

When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first

 

splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang

 

`Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!'

 

 

 

But one cried of a sudden

 

---`It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light

 

and one of the stars has been lost.'

 

 

 

The golden string of their harp snapped,

 

their song stopped, and they cried in dismay

 

---`Yes, that lost star was the best,

 

she was the glory of all heavens!'

 

 

 

From that day the search is unceasing for her,

 

and the cry goes on from one to the other

 

that in her the world has lost its one joy!

 

 

 

Only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile

 

and whisper among themselves

 

---`Vain is this seeking! unbroken perfection is over all!'

 

 

 

 

 

Lost Time

 

 

 

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.

 

But it is never lost, my lord.

 

Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.

 

 

 

Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts,

 

buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.

 

 

 

I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed

 

and imagined all work had ceased.

 

In the morning I woke up

 

and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

Brink of Eternity

 

 

 

In desperate hope I go and search for her

 

in all the corners of my room;

 

I find her not.

 

 

 

My house is small

 

and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

 

 

 

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord,

 

and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

 

 

 

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky

 

and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

 

 

 

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish

 

---no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

 

 

 

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean,

 

plunge it into the deepest fullness.

 

Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch

 

in the allness of the universe.

 

 

 

 

 

Untimely Leave

 

 

 

No more noisy, loud words from me---such is my master's will.

 

Henceforth I deal in whispers.

 

The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.

 

 

 

Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there.

 

But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of

work.

 

 

 

Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time;

 

and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum.

 

 

 

Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil,

 

but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my

heart on to him;

 

and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last Curtain

 

I know that the day will come

 

when my sight of this earth shall be lost,

 

and life will take its leave in silence,

 

drawing the last curtain over my eyes.

 

 

 

Yet stars will watch at night,

 

and morning rise as before,

 

and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.

 

 

 

When I think of this end of my moments,

 

the barrier of the moments breaks

 

and I see by the light of death

 

thy world with its careless treasures.

 

Rare is its lowliest seat,

 

rare is its meanest of lives.

 

 

 

Things that I longed for in vain

 

and things that I got

 

---let them pass.

 

Let me but truly possess

 

the things that I ever spurned

 

and overlooked.

 

 

 

 

 

Threshold

 

 

 

I was not aware of the moment

 

when I first crossed the threshold of this life.

 

 

 

What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery

 

like a bud in the forest at midnight!

 

 

 

When in the morning I looked upon the light

 

I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world,

 

that the inscrutable without name and form

 

had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.

 

 

 

Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me.

 

And because I love this life,

 

I know I shall love death as well.

 

 

 

The child cries out

 

when from the right breast the mother takes it away,

 

in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.

 

 

 

 

 

Parting Words

 

 

 

When I go from hence

 

let this be my parting word,

 

that what I have seen is unsurpassable.

 

 

 

I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus

 

that expands on the ocean of light,

 

and thus am I blessed

 

---let this be my parting word.

 

 

 

In this playhouse of infinite forms

 

I have had my play

 

and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.

 

 

 

My whole body and my limbs

 

have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch;

 

and if the end comes here, let it come

 

---let this be my parting word.

 

 

 

 

 

Ocean of Forms

 

 

 

I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,

 

hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

 

 

 

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.

 

The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.

 

 

 

And now I am eager to die into the deathless.

 

 

 

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss

 

where swells up the music of toneless strings

 

I shall take this harp of my life.

 

 

 

I shall tune it to the notes of forever,

 

and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,

 

lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.

 

 

 

 

 

Sit Smiling

 

 

 

I boasted among men that I had known you.

 

They see your pictures in all works of mine.

 

They come and ask me, `Who is he?'

 

I know not how to answer them. I say, `Indeed, I cannot tell.'

 

They blame me and they go away in scorn.

 

And you sit there smiling.

 

 

 

I put my tales of you into lasting songs.

 

The secret gushes out from my heart.

 

They come and ask me, `Tell me all your meanings.'

 

I know not how to answer them.

 

I say, `Ah, who knows what they mean!'

 

They smile and go away in utter scorn.

 

And you sit there smiling.

 

 

 

 

 

Salutation

 

 

 

In one salutation to thee, my God,

 

let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet.

 

 

 

Like a rain-cloud of July

 

hung low with its burden of unshed showers

 

let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee.

 

 

 

Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single

current

 

and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee.

 

 

 

Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day

 

back to their mountain nests

 

let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home

 

in one salutation to thee.

 

~ Rabindranath Tagore, "Gitanjali"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

 

 

IIazie

 

 

 

 

/join

 

 

 

"Love itself is the actual form of God."

 

Sri Ramana

 

In "Letters from Sri Ramanasramam" by Suri Nagamma

 

 

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