where we live
is no place
to lose your wings
so love, love, love"
hafiz (via shantiloveyoga)
Now that you are free, nothing else matters.
It is now just you and your breath and all the emptiness.
You have waited for something for so long, which has never come
but now you know it is time to let it all go.
Now it is just you and your heartbeat and nothing else matters.
You want everything and nothing from life
and everything around you is yours and nothing belongs to you.
Now you are free and nothing else matters.
You breathe and listen to the silence.
The past is already past.
Don’t try to regain it.
The present does not stay.
Don’t try to touch it.
From moment to moment.
The future has not come;
Don’t think about it
Whatever comes to the eye,
Leave it be.
There are no commandments
To be kept;
There’s no filth to be cleansed.
With empty mind really
Penetrated, the dharmas
Have no life.
When you can be like this,
The ultimate attainment.
P’ang Yün (龐蘊 Hõ Un)
One of the most talented poets of all times, Nazim Hikmet Ran, died June 3, 1963 in Moscow. He was 61 years old. Though he lived most of his life in exile or in prison Nazim Hikmet always had hope. I wanted to share one of his poems with you on living. He says that living is a serious matter, I guess he is right.
Living is no laughing matter :
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example -
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter :
you must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory,
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people -
even for people whose faces you have never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees -
and not for your children, either
but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.
Let’s say we are seriously ill, need surgery -
which is to say we might not get up
from the white table.
Even though it’s impossible not to feel sad
about going a little too soon,
we’ll still laugh at the jokes being told,
we’ll look out the window to see if it’s raining,
or still wait anxiously
for the latest newscast…
Let’s say we are at the front -
for something worth fighting for, say.
There, in the first offensive, on that very day,
we might fall on our face, dead.
We’ll know this with a curious anger,
but we’ll still worry ourselves to death
about the outcome of the war, which would last years.
Let’s say we are in prison
and close to fifty,
and we have eighteen more years, say,
before the iron doors will open.
we’ll still live with the outside,
with the people and animals, struggle and wind-
I mean with the outside beyond the walls.
I mean, however and wherever we are,
we must live as if we will never die…
This earth will grow cold, a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet -
I mean this, our great earth.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not like a block of ice
or a dead cloud even
but like an empty walnut it will roll along
in pitch-black space…
You must grieve for this right now
- you have to feel this sorrow now -
for the world must be loved this much
if you’re going to say “I lived”…
A learned man came to me once.
He said, “I know the way, — come.”
And I was overjoyed at this.
Together we hastened.
Soon, too soon, were we
Where my eyes were useless,
And I knew not the ways of my feet.
I clung to the hand of my friend;
But at last he cried, “I am lost.”
You need not do anything.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
You need not even listen, just wait.
You need not even wait,
just learn to be quiet, still and solitary.
And the world will freely offer itself to you unmasked.
It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
I knew there was a reason that I love Kafka!
They repeatedly say, “Tomorrow, tomorrow.”
I ask them, “When does it come?”
And they reply, “When it dawns, tomorrow comes.”
I search for the new day myself.
When I awake and look around
I find no tomorrow.
Rather I find the today
that has already come.
There is no tomorrow.