Wednesday 12 June 2013

this heart of mine







Coming and going
I feel neither
beginning nor end…
what a strange thing
this heart of mine!
 
 
Ōtagaki Rengetsu
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

25 comments:

  1. but when it is still
    it is like a blue star.

    ...

    'Anyone who has painted the heart knows
    That first he had to discard his spectacles,
    His mirror, throw away his fine-pointed pencil
    And carbon paper and for long while
    Walk outside.'

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    Replies
    1. so one can paint the heart? then, could one photograph it, too? or maybe these lines say that it is foolish even to imagine such an endeavor...

      and who can say for sure what it is like, when it is still? how do some people know? or only the poets know, perhaps...

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    2. no-one knows their own heart, and no-one can say anything for sure. today it is a star; tomorrow it is a black hole. From the blue shadow it casts we guess that it must be a blue star.

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  2. Heart writes blood-ink
    Seals castor red, sun sinking
    With the souls forgotten. Heaven
    Fills, star by star, with flooding
    Of light. Blue is brighter, doom
    Awaits its fevered rush, waits
    In the sundered space: it need not
    Wait for long, in good time
    The crush shall come. The red
    Stars have various problems,
    Relating to circulation, convection,
    Either they suffer infantile infarction
    Or slow fading, and end in Iron,
    The dead metal, the blood metal.

    Yellow the stars which mirror the Sun
    And which last the longest. Blue stars
    Can never fire life except in death-throe
    And red sheds too little light. Suns
    Are always yellow, sometimes red

    Unnoticed in the veil, they are overlooked
    And a finger points at the moon,
    Or at images built of brighter ones
    And imagination, but soon, so soon
    The Sun returns burning the whole sky-
    Blue sky with such light as ever outshone
    From the start of heart
    beats to the ends of time.

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    Replies
    1. thank you for the poem!!!

      the beginning is my favourite part:

      Heart writes blood-ink
      Seals castor red, sun sinking
      With the souls forgotten. Heaven
      Fills, star by star, with flooding
      Of light. Blue is brighter, doom
      Awaits its fevered rush, waits
      In the sundered space: it need not
      Wait for long, in good time
      The crush shall come.

      i think it mirrors the Bridge-soul with great sensitivity, and (for the sake of geometry, i would say) accuracy, if there can be talk of accuracy behind the veils of the heart :-)

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  3. cat imi place cum si-a cumintit ea parul,cum s-a pregatit,parca,prin acest gest,pentru a primi bolul de ceai,si toate suvitele involburate sunt asezate,matasoase,fara cusur,cum ar trebui sa fim toti in fata a ceea ce se ofera simplu.impasibili,si atat de atenti,de daruiti si noi.

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    Replies
    1. parca este o scenă dintr-un roman ce ai descris tu aici :-)
      dar poate că şi imaginea mea ar putea fi gândită la fel, sau filmic, şi asta te-a făcut să vezi aşa :-)

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  4. Beautiful words and image

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    Replies
    1. thank you so much, i am glad you liked it...

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  5. "Going on means going far, and going far means returning"

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  6. this, obviously...

    Dans les caresses de ta chevelure, je retrouve les langueurs des longues heures passées sur un divan, dans la chambre d'un beau navire, bercées par le roulis imperceptible du port, entre les pots de fleurs et les gargoulettes rafraîchissantes.

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  7. Beautiful, is not it?
    The heart has two Movements
    Coming & going
    Beginning & end
    Do not freak, wizard Roxana,
    The photo is beautiful...

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    Replies
    1. ah, Ohscar, you understand... but then, how could you not? ;-)

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  8. Looking at her hair,
    I see neither beginning nor end...
    what a strange thing,
    this chignon of hers.

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    Replies
    1. hahaha

      this is wonderful, Lynne, i am still smiling...

      it is a traditional hair pin, called kanzashi, which can be quite dangerous as well :-)

      http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kanzashi

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  9. such a soft spoken photograph!
    touching my heart, thank you -

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  10. The soul is the bridge between 'nothing' and 'being'...

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    Replies
    1. but what a frail, trembling bridge it is!

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  11. ein sehr schönes bild, eine frau, gesehen in ihrer reinheit und stille. ein ausdruck von einfachheit, bescheidenheit und edelmut... all die eigenschaften, die ich so sehr an menschen liebe... ein schönes bild!!!
    dir schicke ich liebe gedanken und ein lächeln aus der strahlenden hoffnung,
    deine freundin aus den wolken... r. :-)

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  12. Dear Roxana, I've been taking a break from Blogger, but see you have been taking no break from producing beauty as only you know how to do, the bridge continues to float, warmth radiates out into the universe, once known, to never be forgotten. I saw where you said you may be by the sea for a while soon. I wish you peace of mind and gentle waves to rock your soul...

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  13. Only you would think of taking the photo of the back of someone's head! And I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. I just can't think of a better way to say it. Isn't there a wonderful poem by Baudelaire about hair? I'm sure there is. I'm off to reacquaint myself.

    P.S. Have an amazing summer vacation!!

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  14. hi beautiful Roxana, this is sooooooooooooo beautiful-and the words are lovely with the photo.the woman is turned away from us as if (well for my interpretation-dream she is anonymous for a while shedding her individuality because to be an individual has a beginning and an end well not really but apparently and a beginning and an end is a measurement that we have created in our mind it is really not an event nor an object a meter does not exist on its own the way a rainbow of feelings does

    yes we have created this concept of beginning and end because if we look towards the green leaf with its zillions of pathways that extend to the cosmos and we consider its romantic power of capturing light energy to create sugars and nutrients to provide us with energy and to supply our breath during our sejour on the planet then we realize that the chlorophyll pigments have this power to hold light and transform it and therefore here I have been wasting all this time as a poet when I should be simply turning my attention towards the green leaf haha non mais then you consider that these chlorophyll pigments have evolved for two billion years then this radically changes our notion of beginning and end it just seems to evaporate in a mist of a celestial mandamus that compells us to create beginnings and ends burning in the rising incense of the centuries.

    sending you perfumed kisses.
    from raphaellae I wished to sign in as

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