Για τον άνθρωπο: και τούτο και κείνο. Όλα για τον άνθρωπο…

Ο ποιητής της αγάπης, του ανθρωπισμού και της ειρήνης. Δεν είχα ως τώρα, δυστυχώς, την ευκαιρία να γνωρίσω το έργο του παρά ελάχιστες ψηφίδες τρυφερότητας από κάποια ποιήματά του.

Φέτος που είναι τα 100 χρόνια από τη γέννησή του, οι βιβλιοθήκες έχουν την ευκαιρία να φιλοξενήσουν για λίγο το αρχείο του. Πήγα με τα παιδιά της τάξης μου στην κεντρική δημόσια βιβλιοθήκη της πόλης. Νιώθω πως είμαστε τυχεροί που "κλέψαμε" λίγη από την αγάπη του...

(η τραγωδία της Αντιγόνης)

Συνόδεψα νεκρούς
τραγούδησα ήρωες
για την αγάπη σου.

Σημαίες στον ήλιο σήκωσαν
τα χέρια μου, απηγορευμένες,
για την αγάπη σου.

Μπόρεσα κι είδα το αίμα
στο λερωμένο χιόνι
για την αγάπη σου.

Είδα σπαθιά, τουφέκια
και δήμιους χωρίς μίσος
για την αγάπη σου.

Και μ’ όλο που συγγνώμη
ποτέ δε θα ζητήσω
για την αγάπη σου,

σε μάρμαρο το γράφω:
Ξέχασα την αγάπη
για την αγάπη σου.

Νικηφόρος Βρεττάκος

Περιμένοντας τους βαρβάρους, Κωνσταντίνου Καβάφη

— Τι περιμένουμε στην αγορά συναθροισμένοι;

— Είναι οι βάρβαροι να φθάσουν σήμερα.

— Γιατί μέσα στην Σύγκλητο μια τέτοια απραξία;
  Τι κάθοντ’ οι Συγκλητικοί και δεν νομοθετούνε;

— Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
        Τι νόμους πια θα κάμουν οι Συγκλητικοί;
        Οι βάρβαροι σαν έλθουν θα νομοθετήσουν.

—Γιατί ο αυτοκράτωρ μας τόσο πρωί σηκώθη,
 και κάθεται στης πόλεως την πιο μεγάλη πύλη
 στον θρόνο επάνω, επίσημος, φορώντας την κορώνα;

— Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
        Κι ο αυτοκράτωρ περιμένει να δεχθεί
        τον αρχηγό τους. Μάλιστα ετοίμασε
        για να τον δώσει μια περγαμηνή. Εκεί
        τον έγραψε τίτλους πολλούς κι ονόματα.

— Γιατί οι δυο μας ύπατοι κ’ οι πραίτορες εβγήκαν
 σήμερα με τες κόκκινες, τες κεντημένες τόγες·
 γιατί βραχιόλια φόρεσαν με τόσους αμεθύστους,
 και δαχτυλίδια με λαμπρά, γυαλιστερά σμαράγδια·
 γιατί να πιάσουν σήμερα πολύτιμα μπαστούνια
 μ’ ασήμια και μαλάματα έκτακτα σκαλιγμένα;

— Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα·
και τέτοια πράγματα θαμπώνουν τους βαρβάρους.

—Γιατί κ’ οι άξιοι ρήτορες δεν έρχονται σαν πάντα
 να βγάλουνε τους λόγους τους, να πούνε τα δικά τους;

— Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα·
     κι αυτοί βαρυούντ’ ευφράδειες και δημηγορίες.

— Γιατί ν’ αρχίσει μονομιάς αυτή η ανησυχία
 κ’ η σύγχυσις. (Τα πρόσωπα τι σοβαρά που εγίναν).
 Γιατί αδειάζουν γρήγορα οι δρόμοι κ’ η πλατέες,
 κι όλοι γυρνούν στα σπίτια τους πολύ συλλογισμένοι;

— Γιατί ενύχτωσε κ’ οι βάρβαροι δεν ήλθαν.
        Και μερικοί έφθασαν απ’ τα σύνορα,
        και είπανε πως βάρβαροι πια δεν υπάρχουν.

 Και τώρα τι θα γένουμε χωρίς βαρβάρους.
 Οι άνθρωποι αυτοί ήσαν μια κάποια λύσις.

on summer breeze...

"I saw your face; and I felt dizzy and wept, for my eyes had seen that secret and conjectured object whose name is common to all men but which no man has looked upon — the unimaginable universe."
The Aleph: J. L. Borges 
by courtesy of http://thefloatinglibrary.com/2008/07/17/the-aleph/


An astonishing text! 
Wandering in the maze of literature, thanks to the Net, one might stumble upon crude or refined diamonds... 

The missing brick

Not feeling very well this morning I stayed several hours in, lying on my couch, doing some web-surfing and reading my 2-reasons favourite book. I uploaded some more segments from it in my blog and here is another one that, at the moment, drawn my attention:

“Once, when I and my wife were travelling, I received a fax from my secretary.

‘There’s one glass brick missing for the work on the kitchen renovation’, she said. ‘I’m sending you the original plan as well as the plan the builder has come up with to compensate for it.’

On the one hand, there was the design my wife had made: harmonious lines of bricks with an opening for ventilation. On the other, there was the plan drawn up to resolve the problem of the missing brick: a real jigsaw puzzle in which the glass squares were arranged in a high-gledy-piggledy fashion that defied aesthetics.

‘Just buy another brick,’ wrote my wife. And so they did, and thus stuck to the original design.

That afternoon, I thought for a long time about what had happened; how often, for the lack of one brick, we completely distort the original plan of our lives.”

(Paulo Coelho’s Like the flowing river)

... and God created the mother!

When I started this blog one of the texts I had chosen to post was Coelho's story in Greek as it was a gift to me from my daughters.
Today I found the English version via Facebook from the author's blog: http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2011/05/08/character-of-the-week-the-mother/

I was surprised by the fact that he calls the angel as female...

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into his sixth day of “overtime” when an angel appeared and said:
“You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”

And the Lord said, “Have you read the specs on this order?

* She has to be completely washable, but not plastic;
* Have 180 movable parts… all replaceable;
* Run on black coffee and leftovers;
* Have a lap that disappears when she stands up;
* A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair;
* And six pairs of hands.”

The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands… no way.”

“It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,” said the Lord. “It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have.”

“That’s on the standard model?” asked the angel.

The Lord nodded.
“One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ’What are you kids doing in there?’
“Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t but what she has to know.
“And of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, ’I understand and I love you’ without so much as uttering a word.”

“Lord,” said the angel, touching His sleeve gently, “Go to bed. Tomorrow…”

“I can’t,” said the Lord, “I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick
“…can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger
“… and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower.”

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.

“But she’s tough!” said the Lord excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure.”

“Can she think?”

“Not only can she think, but she can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.
“There’s a leak,” she said. “I told You were trying to push too much into this model.”

“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord. “It’s a tear.”

“What’s it for?”

“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride.”

And the Mother was created – a work of genius.

social animals

We know the rules of community; we know the healing effect of community in terms of individual lives. If we could somehow find a way across the bridge of our knowledge, would not these same rules have a healing effect upon our world?
We human beings have often been referred to as social animals. But we are not yet community creatures.
We are impelled to relate with each other for our survival. But we do not yet relate with the inclusivity, realism, self-awareness, vulnerability, commitment, openness, freedom, equality, and love of genuine community.
It is clearly no longer enough to be simply social animals, babbling together at cocktail parties and brawling with each other in business and over boundaries. It is our task—our essential, central, crucial task—to transform ourselves from mere social creatures into community creatures. It is the only way that human evolution will be able to proceed.

Scott Peck: The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace.

asynchronous timing

By the time you open a letter of mine and accept its truth, I am already somewhere else. When I read your letters, I am actually inside a moment of yours that has passed; I am with you inside a time you are no longer inhabiting. This works out to each of us being faithful to each other’s abandoned moments. . .
(Grossman, D, 2002: be my knife)

Salvador Dali's melting watch

μμμ ... αν δεν κοιτάζω εσένα

"red lips I kissed..."

I kissed red lips
and they painted mine, red lips

On the handkerchief I dragged my lips
and they painted the handkerchief, red lips

In the river I washed it
and it painted its waters, red lips

The sea shore was painted
the middle of the ocean too, red lips

An eagle came down to drink water
and his wings were painted, red lips

He painted half the sun
and the moon completely, red lips

I kissed red lips
and they painted mine, red lips...

A lovely traditional song, performed by a modern artist, Alkinoos Ioannidis.(the lyrics are in a loose version, show leniency)

Zolota's greek speech (former prime minister of Greece and outstanding academic!), 2/10/1959

Kyrie, it is Zeus' anathema on our epoch (for the dynamism of our economies) and the heresy of our economic method and policies that we should agonize the Skylla of nomismatic plethora and the Charybdis of economic anaemia. It is not my idiosyncracy to be ironic or sarcastic but my diagnosis would be that politicians are rather cryptoplethorists. Although they emphatically stigmatize nomismatic plethora, they energize it through their tactics and practices. Our policies should be based more on economic and less on political criteria. Our gnomon has to be a metron between economic,strategic and philanthropic scopes.  Political magic has always been anti-economic. In an epoch characterized by monopolies, oligopolies, monopolistic antagonism and polymorphous inelasticities, our policies have to be more orthological, but this should not be metamorphosed into plethorophobia, which is endemic among academic economists. Nomismatic symmetry should not antagonize economic acme. A greater harmonization between the practices of the economic and nomismatic archons is basic. Parallel to this,we have to synchronize and harmonize more and more our economic and nomismatic policies panethnically. These scopes are more practicable now, when the prognostics of the political and economic barometer are halcyonic. The history of our didimus organization on this sphere has been didactic and their gnostic practices will always be a tonic to the polyonymous and idiomorphous ethnical economies. The genesis of the programmed organization will dynamize these policies. Therefore, i sympathize, although not without criticism one or two themes with the apostles and the hierarchy of our organs in their zeal to program orthodox economic and nomismatic policies, although I have some logomachy with them.I apologize for having tyranized you with my Hellenic phraseology. In my epilogue, i emphasize my eulogy to the philoxenous aytochtons of this cosmopolitan metropolis and my encomium to you, Kyrie stenographers.

[Κύριοι, είναι "Διός ανάθεμα" στην εποχή μας και αίρεση της οικονομικής μας μεθόδου και της οικονομικής μας πολιτικής το ότι θα φέρναμε σε αγωνία την Σκύλλα του νομισματικού πληθωρισμού και τη Χάρυβδη της οικονομικής μας αναιμίας. Δεν είναι στην ιδιοσυγκρασία μου να είμαι ειρωνικός ή σαρκαστικός αλλά η διάγνωσή μου θα ήταν ότι οι πολιτικοί είναι μάλλον κρυπτοπληθωριστές. Αν και με έμφαση στιγματίζουν τον νομισματικό πληθωρισμό, τον ενεργοποιούν μέσω της τακτικής τους και των πρακτικών τους. Η πολιτική μας θα έπρεπε να βασίζεται περισσότερο σε οικονομικά και λιγότερο σε πολιτικά κριτήρια. Γνώμων μας πρέπει να είναι ένα μέτρο μεταξύ οικονομικής, στρατηγικής και φιλανθρωπικής σκοπιάς. Σε μια εποχή που χαρακτηρίζεται από μονοπώλια, ολιγοπώλια, μονοπωλιακό ανταγωνισμό και πολύμορφες ανελαστικότητες, οι πολιτικές μας πρέπει να είναι πιο ορθολογιστικές, αλλά αυτό δεν θα έπρεπε να μεταμορφώνεται σε πληθωροφοβία, η οποία είναι ενδημική στους ακαδημαϊκούς οικονομολόγους. Η νομισματική συμμετρία δεν θα έπρεπε να ανταγωνίζεται την οικονομική ακμή. Μια μεγαλύτερη εναρμόνιση μεταξύ των πρακτικών των οικονομικών και νομισματικών αρχόντων είναι βασική. Παράλληλα με αυτό, πρέπει να εκσυγχρονίσουμε και να εναρμονίσουμε όλο και περισσότερο τις οικονομικές και νομισματικές μας πρακτικές πανεθνικώς. Αυτές οι θεωρήσεις είναι πιο εφαρμόσιμες τώρα, που τα προγνωστικά του πολιτικού και οικονομικού βαρομέτρου είναι χάλκινα. Η ιστορία της δίδυμης οργάνωσης σε αυτήν την σφαίρα είναι διδακτική και οι γνωστικές τους εφαρμογές θα είναι πάντα ένα τονωτικό στις πολυώνυμες και ιδιόμορφες εθνικές οικονομίες. Η γένεση μιας προγραμματισμένης οργάνωσης θα ενισχύσει αυτές τις πολιτικές. Γι' αυτόν το λόγο αντιμετωπίζω με συμπάθεια, αλλά όχι χωρίς κριτική διάθεση, ένα ή δύο θέματα με τους αποστόλους της ιεραρχίας των οργάνων μας στον ζήλο τους να προγραμματίσουν ορθόδοξες οικονομικές και νομισματικές πολιτικές. Απολογούμαι που σας τυράννησα με την ελληνική μου φρασεολογία. Στον επίλογό μου δίνω έμφαση στην ευλογία μου, προς τους φιλόξενους αυτόχθονες αυτής της κοσμοπολίτικης μητρόπολης καθώς και το εγκώμιό μου προς εσάς, κύριοι στενογράφοι.]

monuments of global heritage-man's works to admire

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2010/10/photogalleries/101023-ancient-landmarks-vanishing-global-heritage-report-pictures/

all magnificent! and so many others left in oblivion, too!

recovery

Be like the flowing river,

Silent in the night.

Be not afraid of the dark.

If there are stars in the sky, reflect them back.

If there are clouds in the sky,

Remember, clouds, like the river, are water,

So, gladly reflect them too,

In your own tranquil depths.

By Manuel Bandeira

clouded sky seen from my window

An odd story :)

Wanting my next uploading after all this time to be light and joyful, I thought to site here an essay my 14 year old daughter had written for practice in writing English. Enjoy!

WRITING

Topic: You have decided to enter a short story competition and the rules of the competition say that you begin with the words: As I locked the front door, the snow was falling.

As I locked the front door, the snow was falling. The wind was really icy, so, I should stay in the house. I was in a big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere because, I was babysitting two little children whose parents were out to the cinema.

Suddenly, I saw something white coming towards me. Then, I heard a glass cracking and a blood-curdling scream. I ran out quickly, and I saw some footprints in front of me. I walked down the road looking for a human presence when I all of a sudden stumbled and fell down. I was shocked! A few meters along me a leg was lying there dead!!! I run quickly there, I pulled the leg and I saw an injured man, attached to the leg.... I dragged him into the house, and helped him to wake up.

After an hour I realised that the white thing was a snowball and it was thrown by this man in an effort to be helped.

After all these things, I called an ambulance for the injured one. When finally everybody left the house, I sat and started thinking of this amazing, odd and full of mystery adventure.

Sophia

unanswered questions, by P. Coelho, the googliest

Climbing up a track in the Pyrenees in search of somewhere to practice archery, I came upon a small French army camp, where I met a colonel who asks me if I am the writer. And then, getting over his almost visible shyness, he tells me that he too has written a book and begins to explain me the curious genesis of his work.

He and his wife made donations for a leper child who originally lived in India but was later transferred to France. One fine day, curious to meet the little girl, they went to the convent where the nuns took care of the child. One of the nuns asked if he would help in the spiritual education of the group of children who lived there. Jean Paul Sétau (the officer’s name) said that he had no experience teaching the catechism but that he would give it some thought and ask God what he should do.

That night, after saying his prayers, he heard the answer: “instead of offering answers, try to find out what the children want to ask.”

From then on Sétau had the idea of visiting several schools, asking children for the questions to be put in writing, so that the more timid among the pupils would lose their fear of exposing themselves.

Here are some of them:

Where do we go after we die?

Why are we afraid of strangers?

Are there extra-terrestrial beings?

Why do accidents happen even to people who believe in God?

Why are we born, if in the end we die?

Who invented war and happiness?

Does the Lord also listen to those who do not believe in the same (Catholic) God?

Why are there poor and sick people?

Why did God create mosquitoes and flies?

Why isn’t the guardian angel close by when we are sad?

Why do we love some people and hate others?

Who gave names to the colors?

If God is in heaven and my mother is up there too because she died, how can He be alive?

I hope that some teachers or parents who read feel stimulated to do the same thing. In that way, instead of trying to impose our adult understanding of the universe, we will end up remembering some of our questions as children – and which were never really answered.

Welcome to Share with Friends – Free Texts for a Free Internet

the load of soul

"Γιατί είναι τόσο μεγάλα τα φτερά για το σώμα σου;" ρώτησε το μυρμήγκι την πεταλούδα. 

"Πολλοί με λένε και ψυχή, κι αυτό έχει μεγάλο βάρος", του απάντησε. (Λουδοβίκος των Ανωγείων)

διάφανη πεταλούδα σε μωβ λουλούδι