classes ::: author, Zen,
children :::
branches ::: Red Pine
see also :::

Instances - Definitions - Quotes - Chapters - Wordnet - Webgen


object:Red Pine
class:author
subject class:Zen
subject:Zen

  Pu Mings Oxherding Pictures and Verses Empty Bowl, 1983. (translator) (see: Ten Bulls)
  Cold Mountain Poems Copper Canyon Press, 1983. (translator) (see: Hanshan (poet))
  Mountain Poems of Stonehouse Empty Bowl, 1985. (translator) (see: Shiwu)
  The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma Empty Bowl, 1987; North Point Press, 1989. (translator) (see: Bodhidharma)
  Road to Heaven: Encounters with Chinese Hermits Mercury House, 1993. (author)
  Guide to Capturing a Plum Blossom by Sung Po-jen. Mercury House, 1995. (translator)
  Lao-tzu's Taoteching: with Selected Commentaries of the Past 2000 Years Mercury House, 1996. (translator and editor)
  The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a Fourteenth-Century Chinese Hermit Mercury House, 1997. (translator) (see: Shiwu)
  The Clouds Should Know Me by Now: Buddhist Poet Monks of China Wisdom Publications, 1998. (editor, with Mike O'Connor; and contri buting translator) (see: Jia Dao, Hanshan Deqing)
  The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain Copper Canyon Press, 2000. (translator and editor)
  Diamond Sutra Counterpoint, 2001 (translator and extensive commentary) (see: Diamond Sutra)
  Poems of the Masters: China's Classic Anthology of T'ang and Sung Dynasty Verse Copper Canyon Press, 2003. (translator) (see: Three Hundred Tang Poems)
  The Heart Sutra: the Womb of Buddhas Washington: Shoemaker & Hoard, 2004. (translator with extensive commentary) (see: Heart Sutra)
  The Platform Sutra : the Zen teaching of Hui-neng Counterpoint, 2006. ISBN 978-1-582-43995-2 (translator with extensive commentary) (see: Platform Sutra)
  Zen Baggage: A Pilgrimage to China Counterpoint, 2008. (author)
  In Such Hard Times: The Poetry of Wei Ying-wu Copper Canyon Press, July 1, 2009. (translator). Awarded 2007 PEN Translation Fund Grant from PEN American Center. Winner of the American Literary Translators Association's inaugural Lucien Stryk Asian Translation Prize in 2010. (see: Wei Yingwu)
  Lao-tzu's Taoteching: Translated by Red Pine with selected commentaries from the past 2000 years revised edition, Copper Canyon Press, 2009.
  Guide to Capturing a Plum Blossom by Sung Po-jen Copper Canyon Press, 2011 (translator)
  The Lankavatara Sutra: Translation and Commentary Counterpoint, 2012, (translator)
  The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse Copper Canyon Press, 2014, (translator)
  Yellow River Odyssey Chin Music Press 2014 ISBN 0988769301
  "The Silk Road" Counterpoint 2016 ISBN 978-1-61902-751-0
  "Paradise of the Mind", CITIC Publishing, May of 2018, translated by Li Xin[9]


--- WIKI
Bill Porter (born October 3, 1943) is an American author who translates under the pen-name Red Pine (Chinese: ; pinyin: Ch Sng). He is a translator of Chinese texts, primarily Taoist and Buddhist, including poetry and stras. In 2018 he won the American Academy of Arts & Letters Thornton Wilder Prize for translation.[1]


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OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS
SEE ALSO


AUTH

BOOKS
Cold_Mountain
Infinite_Library
The_Zen_Teaching_of_Bodhidharma

IN CHAPTERS TITLE

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
1.01_-_Economy
1.hs_-_Heres_A_Message_for_the_Faithful
1.rwe_-_The_Problem
1.ss_-_Its_something_no_on_can_force
1.ss_-_Most_of_the_time_I_smile
1.ss_-_Outside_the_door_I_made_but_dont_close
1.ss_-_Paper_windows_bamboo_walls_hedge_of_hibiscus
1.ss_-_This_bodys_lifetime_is_like_a_bubbles
1.ss_-_To_glorify_the_Way_what_should_people_turn_to
1.ss_-_Trying_to_become_a_Buddha_is_easy
1.st_-_Behold_the_glow_of_the_moon
1.st_-_Doesnt_anyone_see
1.st_-_I_live_in_a_place_without_limits
Aeneid

PRIMARY CLASS

author
SIMILAR TITLES
Red Pine

DEFINITIONS



QUOTES [0 / 0 - 39 / 39]


KEYS (10k)


NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

   19 Red Pine
   7 Shiwu (Stonehouse)
   3 Shih-te
   2 Joanna Gaines

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:Know your mind and see your nature. ~ Red Pine
2:When we're deluded, there's a world to escape. When we're aware, there's nothing to escape. ~ Red Pine
3:Lao-tzu’s Tao Te Ching (I recommend the Red Pine translation), and started swimming from there. Excellent ~ Michael Finkel
4:Mahamati, to see things as they really are means to transcend 414 what are nothing but perceptions of your own mind. ~ Red Pine
5:I have always taught that things arise due to the conjunction of causes and conditions not that they arise without a cause. ~ Red Pine
6:As a lamp, a cataract, a star in space
an illusion, a dewdrop, a bubble
a dream, a cloud, a flash of lightning
view all created things like this. ~ Red Pine
7:The Buddha then repeated the meaning of this in verse: 1. “Distinguish units of letters / units of words and phrases / people who foolishly cling to these / are like elephants in a quagmire. ~ Red Pine
8:The Buddha then repeated the meaning of this in verse: 1. “Non-arising means nonexistence / existence includes samsara / who sees these as illusions / doesn’t give rise to projections of form. ~ Red Pine
9:When you realize that whether something exists or not is nothing but the perception of your own mind, its external existence is seen as nonexistent and non-arising. Mahamati, there is no contradiction in my earlier and later statements. ~ Red Pine
10:There is so much baggage we burden ourselves with over the years that keeps us from seeing things the way they are. Some baggage we carry with us for a single thought, some for years, and some for lifetimes. But there isn’t one piece that isn’t our own creation. ~ Red Pine
11:And the element distinguished as divisible form produces internal and external realms of earth—and with form comes space. According to those who cling to mistaken truths, it is the four elements and their elemental forms that give rise to the assemblage of the five skandhas. ~ Red Pine
12:Doesn't anyone see the turmoil in the Three Worlds is due to endless delusion once thoughts stop the mind becomes clear nothing comes or goes neither birth nor death [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shih-te, Doesnt anyone see

13:There is no seer or anything seen / no speaker or anything spoken / the appearance of buddhas and also their teachings / are merely what we imagine 44. Those who view such things as real / they don’t see the Buddha / nor do those who imagine nothing / only those who transform their existence. ~ Red Pine
14:Poem by Cold Mountain

"Looking for a refuge
Cold Mountain will keep you safe
a faint wind stirs dark pines
come closer the sound gets better
below them sits a gray-haired man
chanting Taoist texts
ten years unable to return
he forgot the way he came"

Translated by Red Pine ~ Red Pine
15:Trying to become a Buddha is easy but ending delusions is hard how many moonlit nights have I sat and felt the cold before dawn [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), Trying to become a Buddha is easy

16:I smoothed my grandmother’s starched white damask cloth over the battered pine harvest table in the dining room, and with my fingertips, traced the tiny patches where she’d so painstakingly mended it. If I looked closely, and I did, I could see the faintest ghost outlines of stains from family dinners long ago. ~ Mary Kay Andrews
17:It's something no on can force besides knowing it's there there's nothing to know the moon shines bright above the flowering plum but who can look past the blossoms [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), Its something no on can force

18:Behold the glow of the moon illumine the world's four quarters perfect light in perfect space a radiance that purifies people say it waxes and wanes but I don't see it fade just like a magic pearl it shines both night and day [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shih-te, Behold the glow of the moon

19:I live in a place without limits surrounded by effortless truth sometimes I climb Nirvana Peak or play in Sandalwood Temple but most of the time I relax and speak of neither profit nor fame even if the sea became a mulberry grove it wouldn't mean much to me [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shih-te, I live in a place without limits

20:Heres a message for the faithful
what is it that you cherish
to find the Way to see your nature
your nature is naturally so
what Heaven bestows is perfect
looking for proof leads you astray
leaving the trunk to search among the twigs
all you get is stupid

From The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, trans. Red Pine

~ Han-shan, Heres A Message for the Faithful

21:Most of the time I smile old men can relax my mind is free of troubles nothing but mountains meet my eyes the P'eng soars into the sky a leopard blends into mist I'm more like the flowering plum I wait for the year-end cold [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), Most of the time I smile

22:Poem by Stonehouse

"I was a Zen monk who didn't know Zen
so I chose the woods for the years I had left
a robe made of patches over my body
a belt of bamboo around my waist
mountains and streams explain Bodhidharma's meaning
flower smiles and birdsongs reveal the hidden key
sometimes I sit on a flat-topped rock
after midnight cloudless nights when the moon fills the sky"

Translated by Red Pine ~ Red Pine
23:This body's lifetime is like a bubble's may as well let things go plans and events seldom agree who can step back doesn't worry we blossom and fade like flowers we gather and part like clouds earthly thoughts I forgot long ago withering away on a mountain peak [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), This bodys lifetime is like a bubbles

24:To glorify the Way what should people turn to to words and deeds that agree but oceans of greed never fill up and sprouts of delusion keep growing a plum tree in bloom purifies a recluse a patch of potatoes cheers a lone monk but those who follow rules in their huts never see the Way or get past the mountain [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), To glorify the Way what should people turn to

25:The Buddha then repeated the meaning of this in verse: 1. “Mine isn’t a nirvana that exists / a created one or one with attributes / the consciousness that projects what we know / the cessation of this is my nirvana 2. This is the cause and supporting condition / whereby thoughts create the body / on this is what the mind is based / on this is what consciousness depends483 3. When the great river quits flowing / waves no longer stir / when conceptual consciousness ceases / the other forms don’t rise. ~ Red Pine
26:Paper windows bamboo walls hedge of hibiscus when guests arrive wormwood soup serves as tea the poor people I meet are mostly content rare is the rich man who isn't vain or wasteful I move my bookstand to read sutras by moonlight I honor the buddhas with a vase of wild flowers everyone says Tushita Heaven is fine but how can it match this old hut of mine [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), Paper windows bamboo walls hedge of hibiscus

27:Outside the door I made but don't close I glimpse the movements of unfamiliar birds a handful of jade is worth a whole mountain but gold can't buy a lifetime of freedom the sound of icy falls on a dawnlit snowy ridge the sight of distant peaks through leafless autumn woods mist lifts from ancient cedars and days last forever right and wrong don't get past the clouds [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine

~ Shiwu (Stonehouse), Outside the door I made but dont close

28:1. “Meditation practiced by beginners / meditation on the meaning of characteristics / meditation based on suchness / or the pure meditation of the tathagatas 2. On such shapes as the sun or moon / or a lotus in the depths of hell363 / or space after the fire364 / thus do practitioners contemplate 3. A myriad of objects such as these / fill the meditations of other schools / and those trapped in the realms / of shravakas or pratyeka-buddhas 4. Those who abandon these / are thereby free of projections / buddhas come from every land / with hands beyond conception / and touch their heads as one / and lead them into suchness.“365 ~ Red Pine
29:Turn left here," I said about fifteen minutes later.
"I know what you're doing," he told me, but he turned anyway. The road cut through thick bushes and red pine groves. The moon was bright enough to cast blue moonshadow over the snow. If I squinted I could just barely make out a house light through the trees, close to the mountains. We passed the familiar landmarks: the lightning-struck ash, the boulder shaped like a bull, the hill where wild daffodils grew in spring.
My phone rang the very second we crossed onto Drake land.
"Lucy Hamilton, you just keep on driving."
I gulped at Helena's stern voice. "Oops. Bye!" I wrinkled my nose at Kieran. "Busted. Keep driving. ~ Alyxandra Harvey
30:The Buddha told Mahamati, “There are three different levels of srota-apannas and attainments of srota-apannas.436 And what are the three? They are basic, intermediate, and advanced. Those at the basic level are reborn seven more times at the most. Those at the intermediate level are reborn three to five more times before they attain nirvana. And those at the advanced level attain nirvana in this life. “For each of these three, there are three bondages: coarse, intermediate, and subtle. And what are the three bondages? They are belief in a body, doubt, and attachment to codes.437 In terms of differences among these three bondages, whoever reaches the subtlest of the advanced level becomes an arhat. ~ Red Pine
31:Whatever is form is impermanent. And whatever is impermanent is suffering. And whatever is suffering is devoid of a self, devoid of a self and anything that might belong to a self. One who views things like this sees things as they really are. So, too, are sensation, perception, memory and consciousness impermanent. And being impermanent, they are suffering. And being suffering, they are devoid of a self and anything that might belong to a self. One who views things like this sees them as they really are. Those noble disciples who view things like this are repulsed by form and repulsed by sensation, perception, memory, and consciousness. And because they are repulsed by them, they do not delight in them. And because they do not delight in them, they are free of them. ~ Red Pine
32:In a world where nothing exists by itself, where every division of one thing from another is a misperception - or misconception - of the way things really are, there are no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind.

We cannot, for example, draw a line around the eyes that is not necessarily arbitrary. There is no point at which the eyes begin or end, either in time or in space or conceptually. The eye bone is connected to the face bone, and the face bone is connected to the head bone, and the head bone is connected to the neck bone, and so it goes down to the toe bone, the floor bone, the earth bone, the worm bone, the dreaming butterfly bone. Thus, what we call our eyes are so many bubbles in a sea of foam. This is not only true of our eyes but of our other powers of sensation as well, including the mind. ~ Red Pine
33:Moreover, Mahamati, in future ages those who are wise might ask those who are not what I mean by ‘avoiding views characterized by sameness, difference, both, or neither.’421 And they might answer, ‘Whether form422 and so on are permanent or not or whether they are different or not is not a proper question.’423 Likewise, if they are asked to compare and contrast the characteristics of nirvana and samskara,424 characteristics and what is characterized, qualities and what is qualified, matter and what is made of matter,425 seeing and what is seen, earth and dust, practice and practitioner, they might answer, ‘The Buddha has declared these to be unanswerable.’ “But silence is something such foolish people would not understand. It is because those present lack sufficient wisdom that the tathagatas, the arhats, the fully enlightened ones say these are unanswerable to help them overcome fear. This is why they don’t answer. Also, it is to put an end to the mistaken views of other paths that they don’t respond. ~ Red Pine
34:Obituary
In memory of S. B. V., 1834-1909
... so what the lame four-poster gathered here
Between the lips of stale and seasoned sheets
Startles a memory sunlit upon the wall
(Motors and urchins contest the city streets)
While towards the bed the rigid shadows lean
Stung to the patience of all emptiness
And the bed empty where she kept,
Jerky gnats lunge at the haggard screen.
And now upstairs the lint that crusts the sills
Erodes in a windy shift along the floor.
Shall now her touselled eyes rinse out the haze
Of winter sprawled like a waif outside the door?
Feet answer: alternate and withdrawn
To the hard ease of lacquered pine that clamps
The shuffled fists into the breast and neck.
Time begins to elucidate her bones
Then you, so crazy and inviolate,
Will finger the console with a fearful touch,
Go past the horsehair sofa, the gilded frames
Whose faces are tired names
For the lifeblood that labors you so much.
~ Allen Tate
35:When I finally calmed down, I saw how disappointed he was and how bad he felt. I decided to take a deep breath and try to think this thing through.
“Maybe it’s not that bad,” I said. (I think I was trying to cheer myself up as much as I was trying to console Chip.) “If we fix up the interior and just get it to the point where we can get it onto the water, at least maybe then we can turn around, sell it, and get our money back.”
Over the course of the next hour or so, I really started to come around. I took another walk through the boat and started to picture how we could make it livable--maybe even kind of cool. After all, we’d conquered worse. We tore a few things apart right then and there, and I grabbed some paper and sketched out a new layout for the tiny kitchen. I talked to him about potentially finishing an accent wall with shiplap--a kind of rough-textured pine paneling that fans of our show now know all too well.
Shiplap?” Chip laughed. “That seems a little ironic to use on a ship, doesn’t it?”
“Ha-ha,” I replied. I was still not in the mood for his jokes, but this is how Chip backs me off the ledge--with his humor. ~ Joanna Gaines
36:When I finally calmed down, I saw how disappointed he was and how bad he felt. I decided to take a deep breath and try to think this thing through.
“Maybe it’s not that bad,” I said. (I think I was trying to cheer myself up as much as I was trying to console Chip.) “If we fix up the interior and just get it to the point where we can get it onto the water, at least maybe then we can turn around, sell it, and get our money back.”
Over the course of the next hour or so, I really started to come around. I took another walk through the boat and started to picture how we could make it livable--maybe even kind of cool. After all, we’d conquered worse. We tore a few things apart right then and there, and I grabbed some paper and sketched out a new layout for the tiny kitchen. I talked to him about potentially finishing an accent wall with shiplap--a kind of rough-textured pine paneling that fans of our show now know all too well.
Shiplap?” Chip laughed. “That seems a little ironic to use on a ship, doesn’t it?”
“Ha-ha,” I replied. I was still not in the mood for his jokes, but this is how Chip backs me off the ledge--with his humor.
Then I asked him to help me lift something on the deck, and he said, “Aye, aye, matey!” in his best pirate voice, and slowly but surely I came around.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but by the end of that afternoon I was actually a little bit excited about taking on such a big challenge. Chip was still deflated that he’d allowed himself to get duped, but he put his arm around me as we started walking back to the truck. I put my head on his shoulder. And the camera captured the whole thing--just an average, roller-coaster afternoon in the lives of Chip and Joanna Gaines.
The head cameraman came jogging over to us before we drove away. Chip rolled down his window and said sarcastically, “How’s that for reality TV?” We were both feeling embarrassed that this is how we had spent our last day of trying to get this stinkin’ television show.
“Well,” the guy said, breaking into a great big smile, “if I do my job, you two just landed yourself a reality TV show.”
What? We were floored. We couldn’t believe it. How was that a show? But lo and behold, he was right. That rotten houseboat turned out to be a blessing in disguise. ~ Joanna Gaines
37:I like the church; I like a cowl;
I love a prophet of the soul;
And on my heart monastic aisles
Fall like sweet strains, or pensive smiles;
Yet not for all his faith can see
Would I that cowld churchman be.

Why should the vest on him allure,
Which I could not on me endure?

Not from a vain or shallow thought
His awful Jove young Phidias brought;
Never from lips of cunning fell
The thrilling Delphic oracle;
Out from the heart of nature rolled
The burdens of the Bible old;
The litanies of nations came,
Like the volcano's tongue of flame,
Up from the burning core below,
The canticles of love and woe:
The hand that rounded Peter's dome
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome
Wrought in a sad sincerity;
Himself from God he could not free;
He builded better than he knew;
The conscious stone to beauty grew.

Knowst thou what wove yon wood bird's nest
Of leaves and feathers from her breast?
Or how the fish outbuilt her shell,
Painting with morn each annual cell?
Or how the sacred pine tree adds
To her old leaves new myriads?
Such and so grew these holy piles,
Whilst love and terror laid the tiles.
Earth proudly wears the Parthenon,
As the best gem upon her zone,
And Morning opes with haste her lids
To gaze upon the Pyramids;
O'er England's abbeys bends the sky,
As on its friends, with kindred eye;
For out of Thought's interior sphere
These wonders rose to upper air;
And Nature gladly gave them place,
Adopted them into her race,
And granted them an equal date
With Andes and with Ararat.

These temples grew as grows the grass;
Art might obey, but not surpass.
The passive Master lent his hand
To the vast soul that o'er him planned;
And the same power that reared the shrine
Bestrode the tribes that knelt within.
Ever the fiery Pentecost
Girds with one flame the countless host,
Trances the heart through chanting choirs,
And through the priest the mind inspires.

The word unto the prophet spoken
Was writ on tables yet unbroken;
The word by seers or sibyls told,
In groves of oak, or fames of gold,
Still floats upon the morning wind,
Still whispters to the willing mind.
One accent of the Holy Ghost
The heedless world hath never lost.
I know what say the fathers wise,
The Book itself before me lies,
Old Chrysostom, best Augustine,
And he who blent both in his line,
The younger Golden Lips or mines,
Taylor, the Shakespeare of divines.
His words are music in my ear.
I see his cowld portrait dear;
And yet, for all his faith could see,
I would not the good bishop be.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Problem

38:Eighteen Hundred And Eleven
Still the loud death drum, thundering from afar,
O'er the vext nations pours the storm of war:
To the stern call still Britain bends her ear,
Feeds the fierce strife, the' alternate hope and fear;
Bravely, though vainly, dares to strive with Fate,
And seeks by turns to prop each sinking state.
Colossal power with overwhelming force
Bears down each fort of Freedom in its course;
Prostrate she lies beneath the Despot's sway,
While the hushed nations curse him—and obey.
Bounteous in vain, with frantic man at strife,
Glad Nature pours the means—the joys of life;
In vain with orange-blossoms scents the gale,
The hills with olives clothes, with corn the vale;
Man calls to Famine, nor invokes in vain,
Disease and Rapine follow in her train;
The tramp of marching hosts disturbs the plough,
The sword, not sickle, reaps the harvest now,
And where the soldier gleans the scant supply,
The helpless peasant but retires to die;
No laws his hut from licensed outrage shield,
And war's least horror is the' ensanguined field.
Fruitful in vain, the matron counts with pride
The blooming youths that grace her honoured side;
No son returns to press her widowed hand,
Her fallen blossoms strew a foreign strand.
—Fruitful in vain, she boasts her virgin race,
Whom cultured arts adorn and gentlest grace;
Defrauded of its homage, Beauty mourns,
And the rose withers on its virgin thorns.
Frequent, some stream obscure, some uncouth name,
By deeds of blood is lifted into fame;
Oft o'er the daily page some soft one bends
To learn the fate of husband, brothers, friends,
Or the spread map with anxious eye explores,
Its dotted boundaries and penciled shores,
48
Asks where the spot that wrecked her bliss is found,
And learns its name but to detest the sound.
And think'st thou, Britain, still to sit at ease,
An island queen amidst thy subject seas,
While the vext billows, in their distant roar,
But soothe thy slumbers, and but kiss thy shore?
To sport in wars, while danger keeps aloof,
Thy grassy turf unbruised by hostile hoof?
So sing thy flatterers;—but, Britain, know,
Thou who hast shared the guilt must share the woe.
Nor distant is the hour; low murmurs spread,
And whispered fears, creating what they dread;
Ruin, as with an earthquake shock, is here,
There, the heart-witherings of unuttered fear,
And that sad death, whence most affection bleeds,
Which sickness, only of the soul, precedes.
Thy baseless wealth dissolves in air away,
Like mists that melt before the morning ray:
No more on crowded mart or busy street
Friends, meeting friends, with cheerful hurry greet;
Sad, on the ground thy princely merchants bend
Their altered looks, and evil days portend,
And fold their arms, and watch with anxious breast
The tempest blackening in the distant West.
Yes, thou must droop; thy Midas dream is o'er;
The golden tide of Commerce leaves thy shore,
Leaves thee to prove the' alternate ills that haunt
Enfeebling Luxury and ghastly Want;
Leaves thee, perhaps, to visit distant lands,
And deal the gifts of Heaven with equal hands.
Yet, O my Country, name beloved, revered,
By every tie that binds the soul endeared,
Whose image to my infant senses came
Mixt with Religion's light and Freedom's holy flame!
If prayers may not avert, if 'tis thy fate
To rank amongst the names that once were great,
Not like the dim, cold Crescent shalt thou fade,
Thy debt to Science and the Muse unpaid;
49
Thine are the laws surrounding states revere,
Thine the full harvest of the mental year,
Thine the bright stars in Glory's sky that shine,
And arts that make it life to live are thine.
If westward streams the light that leaves thy shores,
Still from thy lamp the streaming radiance pours.
Wide spreads thy race from Ganges to the pole,
O'er half the western world thy accents roll:
Nations beyond the Apalachian hills
Thy hand has planted and thy spirit fills:
Soon as their gradual progress shall impart
The finer sense of morals and of art,
Thy stores of knowledge the new states shall know,
And think thy thoughts, and with thy fancy glow;
Thy Lockes, thy Paleys shall instruct their youth,
Thy leading star direct their search for truth;
Beneath the spreading platan's tent-like shade,
Or by Missouri's rushing waters laid,
“Old father Thames” shall be the poet's theme,
Of Hagley's woods the' enamoured virgin dream,
And Milton's tones the raptured ear enthrall,
Mixt with the roaring of Niagara's fall;
In Thomson's glass the' ingenuous youth shall learn
A fairer face of Nature to discern;
Nor of the bards that swept the British lyre
Shall fade one laurel, or one note expire.
Then, loved Joanna, to admiring eyes
Thy storied groups in scenic pomp shall rise;
Their high-souled strains and Shakespear's noble rage
Shall with alternate passion shake the stage.
Some youthful Basil from thy moral lay
With stricter hand his fond desires shall sway;
Some Ethwald, as the fleeting shadows pass,
Start at his likeness in the mystic glass;
The tragic Muse resume her just controul,
With pity and with terror purge the soul,
While wide o'er transatlantic realms thy name
Shall live in light, and gather all its fame.
Where wanders Fancy down the lapse of years
Shedding o'er imaged woes untimely tears?
50
Fond moody power! as hopes—as fears prevail,
She longs, or dreads, to lift the awful veil,
On visions of delight now loves to dwell,
Now hears the shriek of woe or Freedom's knell:
Perhaps, she says, long ages past away,
And set in western waves our closing day,
Night, Gothic night, again may shade the plains
Where Power is seated, and where Science reigns;
England, the seat of arts, be only known
By the grey ruin and the mouldering stone;
That Time may tear the garland from her brow,
And Europe sit in dust, as Asia now.
Yet then the' ingenuous youth whom Fancy fires
With pictured glories of illustrious sires,
With duteous zeal their pilgrimage shall take
From the Blue Mountains, or Ontario's lake,
With fond adoring steps to press the sod
By statesmen, sages, poets, heroes trod;
On Isis' banks to draw inspiring air,
From Runnymede to send the patriot's prayer;
In pensive thought, where Cam's slow waters wind,
To meet those shades that ruled the realms of mind;
In silent halls to sculptured marbles bow,
And hang fresh wreaths round Newton's awful brow.
Oft shall they seek some peasant's homely shed,
Who toils, unconscious of the mighty dead,
To ask where Avon's winding waters stray,
And thence a knot of wild flowers bear away;
Anxious inquire where Clarkson, friend of man,
Or all-accomplished Jones his race began;
If of the modest mansion aught remains
Where Heaven and Nature prompted Cowper's strains;
Where Roscoe, to whose patriot breast belong
The Roman virtue and the Tuscan song,
Led Ceres to the black and barren moor
Where Ceres never gained a wreath before:
With curious search their pilgrim steps shall rove
By many a ruined tower and proud alcove,
Shall listen for those strains that soothed of yore
Thy rock, stern Skiddaw, and thy fall, Lodore;
Feast with Dun Edin's classic brow their sight,
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And “visit Melross by the pale moonlight.”
But who their mingled feelings shall pursue
When London's faded glories rise to view?
The mighty city, which by every road,
In floods of people poured itself abroad;
Ungirt by walls, irregularly great,
No jealous drawbridge, and no closing gate;
Whose merchants (such the state which commerce brings)
Sent forth their mandates to dependent kings;
Streets, where the turban'd Moslem, bearded Jew,
And woolly Afric, met the brown Hindu;
Where through each vein spontaneous plenty flowed,
Where Wealth enjoyed, and Charity bestowed.
Pensive and thoughtful shall the wanderers greet
Each splendid square, and still, untrodden street;
Or of some crumbling turret, mined by time,
The broken stairs with perilous step shall climb,
Thence stretch their view the wide horizon round,
By scattered hamlets trace its ancient bound,
And, choked no more with fleets, fair Thames survey
Through reeds and sedge pursue his idle way.
With throbbing bosoms shall the wanderers tread
The hallowed mansions of the silent dead,
Shall enter the long isle and vaulted dome
Where Genius and where Valour find a home;
Awe-struck, midst chill sepulchral marbles breathe,
Where all above is still, as all beneath;
Bend at each antique shrine, and frequent turn
To clasp with fond delight some sculptured urn,
The ponderous mass of Johnson's form to greet,
Or breathe the prayer at Howard's sainted feet.
Perhaps some Briton, in whose musing mind
Those ages live which Time has cast behind,
To every spot shall lead his wondering guests
On whose known site the beam of glory rests:
Here Chatham's eloquence in thunder broke,
Here Fox persuaded, or here Garrick spoke;
Shall boast how Nelson, fame and death in view,
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To wonted victory led his ardent crew,
In England's name enforced, with loftiest tone,
Their duty,—and too well fulfilled his own:
How gallant Moore,
as ebbing life dissolved,
But hoped his country had his fame absolved.
Or call up sages whose capacious mind
Left in its course a track of light behind;
Point where mute crowds on Davy's lips reposed,
And Nature's coyest secrets were disclosed;
Join with their Franklin, Priestley's injured name,
Whom, then, each continent shall proudly claim.
Oft shall the strangers turn their eager feet
The rich remains of ancient art to greet,
The pictured walls with critic eye explore,
And Reynolds be what Raphael was before.
On spoils from every clime their eyes shall gaze,
Egyptian granites and the' Etruscan vase;
And when midst fallen London, they survey
The stone where Alexander's ashes lay,
Shall own with humbled pride the lesson just
By Time's slow finger written in the dust.
There walks a Spirit o'er the peopled earth,
Secret his progress is, unknown his birth;
Moody and viewless as the changing wind,
No force arrests his foot, no chains can bind;
Where'er he turns, the human brute awakes,
And, roused to better life, his sordid hut forsakes:
He thinks, he reasons, glows with purer fires,
Feels finer wants, and burns with new desires:
Obedient Nature follows where he leads;
The steaming marsh is changed to fruitful meads;
The beasts retire from man's asserted reign,
And prove his kingdom was not given in vain.
Then from its bed is drawn the ponderous ore,
Then Commerce pours her gifts on every shore,
Then Babel's towers and terraced gardens rise,
And pointed obelisks invade the skies;
The prince commands, in Tyrian purple drest,
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And Egypt's virgins weave the linen vest.
Then spans the graceful arch the roaring tide,
And stricter bounds the cultured fields divide.
Then kindles Fancy, then expands the heart,
Then blow the flowers of Genius and of Art;
Saints, heroes, sages, who the land adorn,
Seem rather to descend than to be born;
Whilst History, midst the rolls consigned to fame,
With pen of adamant inscribes their name.
The Genius now forsakes the favoured shore,
And hates, capricious, what he loved before;
Then empires fall to dust, then arts decay,
And wasted realms enfeebled despots sway;
Even Nature's changed; without his fostering smile
Ophir no gold, no plenty yields the Nile;
The thirsty sand absorbs the useless rill,
And spotted plagues from putrid fens distill.
In desert solitudes then Tadmor sleeps,
Stern Marius then o'er fallen Carthage weeps;
Then with enthusiast love the pilgrim roves
To seek his footsteps in forsaken groves,
Explores the fractured arch, the ruined tower,
Those limbs disjointed of gigantic power;
Still at each step he dreads the adder's sting,
The Arab's javelin, or the tiger's spring;
With doubtful caution treads the echoing ground,
And asks where Troy or Babylon is found.
And now the vagrant Power no more detains
The vale of Tempe, or Ausonian plains;
Northward he throws the animating ray,
O'er Celtic nations bursts the mental day:
And, as some playful child the mirror turns,
Now here now there the moving lustre burns;
Now o'er his changeful fancy more prevail
Batavia's dykes than Arno's purple vale,
And stinted suns, and rivers bound with frost,
Than Enna's plains or Baia's viny coast;
Venice the Adriatic weds in vain,
And Death sits brooding o'er Campania's plain;
O'er Baltic shores and through Hercynian groves,
54
Stirring the soul, the mighty impulse moves;
Art plies his tools, and Commerce spreads her sail,
And wealth is wafted in each shifting gale.
The sons of Odin tread on Persian looms,
And Odin's daughters breathe distilled perfumes
Loud minstrel bards, in Gothic halls, rehearse
The Runic rhyme, and “build the lofty verse:”
The Muse, whose liquid notes were wont to swell
To the soft breathings of the' Æolian shell,
Submits, reluctant, to the harsher tone,
And scarce believes the altered voice her own.
And now, where Cæsar saw with proud disdain
The wattled hut and skin of azure stain,
Corinthian columns rear their graceful forms,
And light varandas brave the wintry storms,
While British tongues the fading fame prolong
Of Tully's eloquence and Maro's song.
Where once Bonduca whirled the scythed car,
And the fierce matrons raised the shriek of war,
Light forms beneath transparent muslins float,
And tutored voices swell the artful note.
Light-leaved acacias and the shady plane
And spreading cedar grace the woodland reign;
While crystal walls the tenderer plants confine,
The fragrant orange and the nectared pine;
The Syrian grape there hangs her rich festoons,
Nor asks for purer air, or brighter noons:
Science and Art urge on the useful toil,
New mould a climate and create the soil,
Subdue the rigour of the northern Bear,
O'er polar climes shed aromatic air,
On yielding Nature urge their new demands,
And ask not gifts but tribute at her hands.
London exults:—on London Art bestows
Her summer ices and her winter rose;
Gems of the East her mural crown adorn,
And Plenty at her feet pours forth her horn;
While even the exiles her just laws disclaim,
People a continent, and build a name:
August she sits, and with extended hands
Holds forth the book of life to distant lands.
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But fairest flowers expand but to decay;
The worm is in thy core, thy glories pass away;
Arts, arms and wealth destroy the fruits they bring;
Commerce, like beauty, knows no second spring.
Crime walks thy streets, Fraud earns her unblest bread,
O'er want and woe thy gorgeous robe is spread,
And angel charities in vain oppose:
With grandeur's growth the mass of misery grows.
For see,—to other climes the Genius soars,
He turns from Europe's desolated shores;
And lo, even now, midst mountains wrapt in storm,
On Andes' heights he shrouds his awful form;
On Chimborazo's summits treads sublime,
Measuring in lofty thought the march of Time;
Sudden he calls:—“'Tis now the hour!” he cries,
Spreads his broad hand, and bids the nations rise.
La Plata hears amidst her torrents' roar;
Potosi hears it, as she digs the ore:
Ardent, the Genius fans the noble strife,
And pours through feeble souls a higher life,
Shouts to the mingled tribes from sea to sea,
And swears—Thy world, Columbus, shall be free.
~ Anna Laetitia Barbauld
39:The Kalevala - Rune Xxiii
OSMOTAR THE BRIDE-ADVISER
Now the bride must be instructed,
Who will teach the Maid of Beauty,
Who instruct the Rainbow-daughter?
Osmotar, the wisdom-maiden,
Kalew's fair and lovely virgin,
Osmotar will give instructions
To the bride of Ilmarinen,
To the orphaned bride of Pohya,
Teach her how to live in pleasure,
How to live and reign in glory,
Win her second mother's praises,
Joyful in her husband's dwelling.
Osmotar in modest accents
Thus the anxious bride addresses;
'Maid of Beauty, lovely sister,
Tender plant of Louhi's gardens,
Hear thou what thy sister teaches,
Listen to her sage instructions:
Go thou hence, my much beloved,
Wander far away, my flower,
Travel on enwrapped in colors,
Glide away in silks and ribbons,
From this house renowned and ancient,
From thy father's halls and court-yards
Haste thee to thy husband's village,
Hasten to his mother's household;
Strange, the rooms in other dwellings,
Strange, the modes in other hamlets.
'Full of thought must be thy going,
And thy work be well considered,
Quite unlike thy home in Northland,
On the meadows of thy father,
On the high-lands of thy brother,
Singing through thy mother's fenlands,
Culling daisies with thy sister.
'When thou goest from thy father
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Thou canst take whatever pleases,
Only three things leave behind thee:
Leave thy day-dreams to thy sister,
Leave thou kindness for thy mother,
To thy brother leave thy labors,
Take all else that thou desirest.
Throw away thine incantations,
Cast thy sighing to the pine-trees,
And thy maidenhood to zephyrs,
Thy rejoicings to the couches,
Cast thy trinkets to the children,
And thy leisure to the gray-beards,
Cast all pleasures to thy playmates,
Let them take them to the woodlands,
Bury them beneath the mountain.
'Thou must hence acquire new habits,
Must forget thy former customs,
Mother-love must be forsaken,
Thou must love thy husband's mother,
Lower must thy head be bended,
Kind words only must thou utter.
'Thou must hence acquire new habits,
Must forget thy former customs,
Father-love must be forsaken,
Thou must love thy husband's father,
Lower must thy head be bended,
Kind words only must thou utter.
'Thou must hence acquire new habits,
Must forget thy former customs,
Brother-love must be forsaken,
Thou must love thy husband's brother,
Lower must thy head be bended,
Kind words only must thou utter.
'Thou must hence acquire new habits
Must forget thy former customs,
Sister-love must be forsaken,
Thou must love thy husband's sister,
Lower must thy head be bended,
Kind words only must thou utter.
'Never in the course of ages,
Never while the moonlight glimmers,
Wickedly approach thy household,
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Nor unworthily, thy servants,
Nor thy courts with indiscretion;
Let thy dwellings sing good manners,
And thy walls re-echo virtue.
After mind the hero searches.
And the best of men seek honor,
Seek for honesty and wisdom;
If thy home should be immoral,
If thine inmates fail in virtue,
Then thy gray-beards would be black-dogs
In sheep's clothing at thy firesides;
All thy women would be witches,
Wicked witches in thy chambers,
And thy brothers be as serpents
Crawling through thy husband's mansion;
All thy sisters would be famous
For their evil thoughts and conduct.
'Equal honors must be given
To thy husband's friends and kindred;
Lower must thy head be bended,
Than within thy mother's dwelling,
Than within thy father's guest-room,
When thou didst thy kindred honor.
Ever strive to give good counsel,
Wear a countenance of sunshine,
Bear a head upon thy shoulders
Filled with wise and ancient sayings;
Open bright thine eyes at morning
To behold the silver sunrise,
Sharpen well thine ears at evening,
Thus to hear the rooster crowing;
When he makes his second calling,
Straightway thou must rise from slumber,
Let the aged sleep in quiet;
Should the rooster fail to call thee,
Let the moonbeams touch thine eyelids,
Let the Great Bear be thy keeper
Often go thou and consult them,
Call upon the Moon for counsel,
Ask the Bear for ancient wisdom,
From the stars divine thy future;
When the Great Bear faces southward,
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When his tail is pointing northward,
This is time to break with slumber,
Seek for fire within the ashes,
Place a spark upon the tinder,
Blow the fire through all the fuel.
If no spark is in the ashes,
Then go wake thy hero-husband,
Speak these words to him on waking:
'Give me fire, O my beloved,
Give a single spark, my husband,
Strike a little fire from flintstone,
Let it fall upon my tinder.'
'From the spark, O Bride of Beauty,
Light thy fires, and heat thine ovens,
In the holder, place the torch-light,
Find thy pathway to the stables,
There to fill the empty mangers;
If thy husband's cows be lowing,
If thy brother's steeds be neighing,
Then the cows await thy coming,
And the steeds for thee are calling,
Hasten, stooping through the hurdles,
Hasten through the yards and stables,
Feed thy husband's cows with pleasure,
Feed with care the gentle lambkins,
Give the cows the best of clover,
Hay, and barley, to the horses,
Feed the calves of lowing mothers,
Feed the fowl that fly to meet thee.
'Never rest upon the haymow,
Never sleep within the hurdles,
When the kine are fed and tended,
When the flocks have all been watered;
Hasten thence, my pretty matron,
Like the snow-flakes to thy dwelling,
There a crying babe awaits thee,
Weeping in his couch neglected,
Cannot speak and tell his troubles,
Speechless babe, and weeping infant,
Cannot say that he is hungry,
Whether pain or cold distresses,
Greets with joy his mother's footsteps.
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Afterward repair in silence
To thy husband's rooms and presence,
Early visit thou his chambers,
In thy hand a golden pitcher,
On thine arm a broom of birch-wood,
In thy teeth a lighted taper,
And thyself the fourth in order.
Sweep thou then thy hero's dwelling,
Dust his benches and his tables,
Wash the flooring well with water.
'If the baby of thy sister
Play alone within his corner,
Show the little child attention,
Bathe his eyes and smoothe his ringlets,
Give the infant needed comforts;
Shouldst thou have no bread of barley,
In his hand adjust some trinket.
'Lastly, when the week has ended,
Give thy house a thorough cleansing,
Benches, tables, walls, and ceilings;
What of dust is on the windows,
Sweep away with broom of birch-twigs,
All thy rooms must first be sprinkled,
at the dust may not be scattered,
May not fill the halls and chambers.
Sweep the dust from every crevice,
Leave thou not a single atom;
Also sweep the chimney-corners,
Do not then forget the rafters,
Lest thy home should seem untidy,
Lest thy dwelling seem neglected.
'Hear, O maiden, what I tell thee,
Learn the tenor of my teaching:
Never dress in scanty raiment,
Let thy robes be plain and comely,
Ever wear the whitest linen,
On thy feet wear tidy fur-shoes,
For the glory of thy husband,
For the honor of thy hero.
Tend thou well the sacred sorb-tree,
Guard the mountain-ashes planted
In the court-yard, widely branching;
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Beautiful the mountain-ashes,
Beautiful their leaves and flowers,
Still more beautiful the berries.
Thus the exiled one demonstrates
That she lives to please her husband,
Tries to make her hero happy.
'Like the mouse, have ears for hearing,
Like the hare, have feet for running,
Bend thy neck and turn thy visage
Like the juniper and aspen,
Thus to watch with care thy goings,
Thus to guard thy feet from stumbling,
That thou mayest walk in safety.
'When thy brother comes from plowing,
And thy father from his garners,
And thy husband from the woodlands,
From his chopping, thy beloved,
Give to each a water-basin,
Give to each a linen-towel,
Speak to each some pleasant greeting.
'When thy second mother hastens
To thy husband's home and kindred,
In her hand a corn-meal measure,
Haste thou to the court to meet her,
Happy-hearted, bow before her,
Take the measure from her fingers,
Happy, bear it to thy husband.
'If thou shouldst not see distinctly
What demands thy next attention,
Ask at once thy hero's mother:
'Second mother, my beloved,
Name the task to be accomplished
By thy willing second daughter,
Tell me how to best perform it.'
'This should be the mother's answer:
'This the manner of thy workings,
Thus thy daily work accomplish:
Stamp with diligence and courage,
Grind with will and great endurance,
Set the millstones well in order,
Fill the barley-pans with water,
Knead with strength the dough for baking,
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Place the fagots on the fire-place,
That thy ovens may be heated,
Bake in love the honey-biscuit,
Bake the larger loaves of barley,
Rinse to cleanliness thy platters,
Polish well thy drinking-vessels.
'If thou hearest from the mother,
From the mother of thy husband,
That the cask for meal is empty,
Take the barley from the garners,
Hasten to the rooms for grinding.
When thou grindest in the chambers,
Do not sing in glee and joyance,
Turn the grinding-stones in silence,
To the mill give up thy singing,
Let the side-holes furnish music;
Do not sigh as if unhappy,
Do not groan as if in trouble,
Lest the father think thee weary,
Lest thy husband's mother fancy
That thy groans mean discontentment,
That thy sighing means displeasure.
Quickly sift the flour thou grindest,
Take it to the casks in buckets,
Bake thy hero's bread with pleasure,
Knead the dough with care and patience,
That thy biscuits may be worthy,
That the dough be light and airy.
'Shouldst thou see a bucket empty,
Take the bucket on thy shoulder,
On thine arm a silver-dipper,
Hasten off to fill with water
From the crystal river flowing;
Gracefully thy bucket carry,
Bear it firmly by the handles,
Hasten houseward like the zephyrs,
Hasten like the air of autumn;
Do not tarry near the streamlet,
At the waters do not linger,
That the father may not fancy,
Nor the ancient dame imagine,
That thou hast beheld thine image,
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Hast admired thy form and features,
Hast admired thy grace and beauty
In the mirror of the fountain,
In the crystal streamlet's eddies.
'Shouldst thou journey to the woodlands,
There to gather aspen-fagots,
Do not go with noise and bustle,
Gather all thy sticks in silence,
Gather quietly the birch-wood,
That the father may not fancy,
And the mother not imagine,
That thy calling came from anger,
And thy noise from discontentment.
'If thou goest to the store-house
To obtain the flour of barley,
Do not tarry on thy journey,
On the threshold do not linger,
That the father may not fancy,
And the mother not imagine,
That the meal thou hast divided
With the women of the village.
'If thou goest to the river,
There to wash thy birchen platters,
There to cleanse thy pans and buckets,
Lest thy work be done in neatness,
Rinse the sides, and rinse the handles,
Rinse thy pitchers to perfection,
Spoons, and forks, and knives, and goblets,
Rinse with care thy cooking-vessels,
Closely watch the food-utensils,
That the dogs may not deface them,
That the kittens may not mar them,
That the eagles may not steal them,
That the children may not break them;
Many children in the village,
Many little heads and fingers,
That will need thy careful watching,
Lest they steal the things of value.
'When thou goest to thy bathing,
Have the brushes ready lying
In the bath-room clean and smokeless;
Do not, linger in the water,
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At thy bathing do not tarry,
That the father may not fancy,
And the mother not imagine,
Thou art sleeping on the benches,
Rolling in the laps of comfort.
'From thy bath, when thou returnest,
To his bathing tempt the father,
Speak to him the words that follow:
'Father of my hero-husband,
Clean are all the bath-room benches,
Everything in perfect order;
Go and bathe for thine enjoyment,
Pour the water all-sufficient,
I will lend thee needed service.'
'When the time has come for spinning,
When the hours arrive for weaving,
Do not ask the help of others,
Look not in the stream for knowledge,
For advice ask not the servants,
Nor the spindle from the sisters,
Nor the weaving-comb from strangers.
Thou thyself must do the spinning,
With thine own hand ply the shuttle,
Loosely wind the skeins of wool-yarn,
Tightly wind the balls of flax-thread,
Wind them deftly in the shuttle
Fit the warp upon the rollers,
Beat the woof and warp together,
Swiftly ply the weaver's shuttle,
Weave good cloth for all thy vestments,
Weave of woolen, webs for dresses
From the finest wool of lambkins,
One thread only in thy weaving.
'Hear thou what I now advise thee:
Brew thy beer from early barley,
From the barley's new-grown kernels,
Brew it with the magic virtues,
Malt it with the sweets of honey,
Do not stir it with the birch-rod,
Stir it with thy skilful fingers;
When thou goest to the garners,
Do not let the seed bring evil,
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Keep the dogs outside the brew-house,
Have no fear of wolves in hunger,
Nor the wild-beasts of the mountains,
When thou goest to thy brewing,
Shouldst thou wander forth at midnight.
'Should some stranger come to see thee,
Do not worry for his comfort;
Ever does the worthy household
Have provisions for the stranger,
Bits of meat, and bread, and biscuit,
Ample for the dinner-table;
Seat the stranger in thy dwelling,
Speak with him in friendly accents,
Entertain the guest with kindness,
While his dinner is preparing.
When the stranger leaves thy threshold,
When his farewell has been spoken,
Lead him only to the portals,
Do not step without the doorway,
That thy husband may not fancy,
And the mother not imagine,
Thou hast interest in strangers.
'Shouldst thou ever make a journey
To the centre of the village,
There to gain some needed object,
While thou speakest in the hamlet,
Let thy words be full of wisdom,
That thou shamest not thy kindred,
Nor disgrace thy husband's household.
'Village-maidens oft will ask thee,
Mothers of the hamlet question:
'Does thy husband's mother greet thee
As in childhood thou wert greeted,
In thy happy home in Pohya?'
Do not answer in negation,
Say that she has always given
Thee the best of her provisions,
Given thee the kindest greetings,
Though it be but once a season.
'Listen well to what I tell thee:
As thou goest from thy father
To thy husband's distant dwelling,
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Thou must not forget thy mother,
Her that gave thee life and beauty,
Her that nurtured thee in childhood,
Many sleepless nights she nursed thee;
Often were her wants neglected,
Numberless the times she rocked thee;
Tender, true, and ever faithful,
Is the mother to her daughter.
She that can forget her mother,
Can neglect the one that nursed her,
Should not visit Mana's castle,
In the kingdom of Tuoni;
In Manala she would suffer,
Suffer frightful retribution,
Should her mother be forgotten;
Should her dear one be neglected,
Mana's daughters will torment her,
And Tuoni's sons revile her,
They will ask her much as follows:
'How couldst thou forget thy mother,
How neglect the one that nursed thee?
Great the pain thy mother suffered,
Great the trouble that thou gavest
When thy loving mother brought thee
Into life for good or evil,
When she gave thee earth-existence,
When she nursed thee but an infant,
When she fed thee in thy childhood,
When she taught thee what thou knowest,
Mana's punishments upon thee,
Since thy mother is forgotten!''
On the floor a witch was sitting,
Near the fire a beggar-woman,
One that knew the ways of people,
These the words the woman uttered:
'Thus the crow calls in the winter:
'Would that I could be a singer,
And my voice be full of sweetness,
But, alas! my songs are worthless,
Cannot charm the weakest creature;
I must live without the singing
Leave the songs to the musicians,
385
Those that live in golden houses,
In the homes of the beloved;
Homeless therefore I must wander,
Like a beggar in the corn-fields,
And with none to do me honor.'
'Hear now, sister, what I tell thee,
Enter thou thy husband's dwelling,
Follow not his mind, nor fancies,
As my husband's mind I followed;
As a flower was I when budding,
Sprouting like a rose in spring-time,
Growing like a slender maiden,
Like the honey-gem of glory,
Like the playmates of my childhood,
Like the goslings of my father,
Like the blue-ducks of my mother,
Like my brother's water-younglings,
Like the bullfinch of my sister;
Grew I like the heather-flower,
Like the berry of the meadow,
Played upon the sandy sea-shore,
Rocked upon the fragrant upland,
Sang all day adown the valley,
Thrilled with song the hill and mountain,
Filled with mirth the glen and forest,
Lived and frolicked in the woodlands.
'Into traps are foxes driven
By the cruel pangs of hunger,
Into traps, the cunning ermine;
Thus are maidens wooed and wedded,
In their hunger for a husband.
Thus created is the virgin,
Thus intended is the daughter,
Subject to her hero-husband,
Subject also to his mother.
'Then to other fields I hastened,
Like a berry from the border,
Like a cranberry for roasting,
Like a strawberry for dinner;
All the elm-trees seemed to wound me,
All the aspens tried to cut me,
All the willows tried to seize me,
386
All the forest tried to slay me.
Thus I journeyed to my husband,
Thus I travelled to his dwelling,
Was conducted to his mother.
Then there were, as was reported,
Six compartments built of pine-wood,
Twelve the number of the chambers,
And the mansion filled with garrets,
Studding all the forest border,
Every by-way filled with flowers
Streamlets bordered fields of barley,
Filled with wheat and corn, the islands,
Grain in plenty in the garners,
Rye unthrashed in great abundance,
Countless sums of gold and silver,
Other treasures without number.
When my journey I had ended,
When my hand at last was given,
Six supports were in his cabin,
Seven poles as rails for fencing.
Filled with anger were the bushes,
All the glens disfavor showing,
All the walks were lined with trouble,
Evil-tempered were the forests,
Hundred words of evil import,
Hundred others of unkindness.
Did not let this bring me sorrow,
Long I sought to merit praises,
Long I hoped to find some favor,
Strove most earnestly for kindness;
When they led me to the cottage,
There I tried some chips to gather,
Knocked my head against the portals
Of my husband's lowly dwelling.
'At the door were eyes of strangers,
Sable eyes at the partition,
Green with envy in his cabin,
Evil heroes in the back-ground,
From each mouth the fire was streaming,
From each tongue the sparks out-flying,
Flying from my second father,
From his eyeballs of unkindness.
387
Did not let this bring me trouble,
Tried to live in peace and pleasure,
In the homestead of my husband
In humility I suffered,
Skipped about with feet of rabbit,
Flew along with steps of ermine,
Late I laid my head to slumber,
Early rose as if a servant,
Could not win a touch of kindness,
Could not merit love nor honor,
Though I had dislodged the mountains,
Though the rocks had I torn open.
'Then I turned the heavy millstone,
Ground the flour with care and trouble,
Ground the barley-grains in patience,
That the mother might be nourished,
That her fury-throat might swallow
What might please her taste and fancy,.
From her gold-enamelled platters,
From the corner of her table.
'As for me, the hapless daughter,
All my flour was from the siftings
On the table near the oven,
Ate I from the birchen ladle;
Oftentimes I brought the mosses
Gathered in the lowland meadows,
Baked them into loaves for eating;
Brought the water from the river,
Thirsty, sipped it from the dipper,
Ate of fish the worst in Northland,
Only smelts, and worthless swimmers,
Rocking in my boat of birch-bark
Never ate I fish or biscuit
From my second mother's fingers.
'Blades I gathered in the summers,
Twisted barley-stalks in winter,
Like the laborers of heroes,
Like the servants sold in bondage.
In the thresh-house of my husband,
Evermore to me was given
Flail the heaviest and longest,
And to me the longest lever,
388
On the shore the strongest beater,
And the largest rake in haying;
No one thought my burden heavy,
No one thought that I could suffer,
Though the best of heroes faltered,
And the strongest women weakened.
'Thus did I, a youthful housewife,
At the right time, all my duties,
Drenched myself in perspiration,
Hoped for better times to follow;
But I only rose to labor,
Knowing neither rest nor pleasure.
I was blamed by all the household,
With ungrateful tongues derided,
Now about my awkward manners,
Now about my reputation,
Censuring my name and station.
Words unkind were heaped upon me,
Fell like hail on me unhappy,
Like the frightful flash of lightning,
Like the heavy hail of spring-time.
I did not despair entirely,
Would have lived to labor longer
Underneath the tongue of malice,
But the old-one spoiled Lay temper,
Roused my deepest ire and hatred
Then my husband grew a wild-bear,
Grew a savage wolf of Hisi.
'Only then I turned to weeping,
And reflected in my chamber,
Thought of all my former pleasures
Of the happy days of childhood,
Of my father's joyful firesides,
Of my mother's peaceful cottage,
Then began I thus to murmur:
'Well thou knowest, ancient mother,
How to make thy sweet bud blossom,
How to train thy tender shootlet;
Did not know where to ingraft it,
Placed, alas! the little scion
In the very worst of places,
On an unproductive hillock,
389
In the hardest limb of cherry,
Where it could not grow and flourish,
There to waste its life, in weeping,
Hapless in her lasting sorrow.
Worthier had been my conduct
In the regions that are better,
In the court-yards that are wider,
In compartments that are larger,
Living with a loving husband,
Living with a stronger hero.
Shoe of birch-bark was my suitor,
Shoe of Laplanders, my husband;
Had the body of a raven,
Voice and visage like the jackdaw,
Mouth and claws were from the black-wolf,
The remainder from the wild-bear.
Had I known that mine affianced
Was a fount of pain and evil,
To the hill-side I had wandered,
Been a pine-tree on the highway,
Been a linden on the border,
Like the black-earth made my visage,
Grown a beard of ugly bristles,
Head of loam and eyes of lightning,
For my ears the knots of birches,
For my limbs the trunks of aspens.'
'This the manner of my singing
In the hearing of my husband,
Thus I sang my cares and murmurs
Thus my hero near the portals
Heard the wail of my displeasure,
Then he hastened to my chamber;
Straightway knew I by his footsteps,
Well concluded be was angry,
'Knew it by his steps implanted;
All the winds were still in slumber,
Yet his sable locks stood endwise,
Fluttered round his bead in fury,
While his horrid mouth stood open;
To and fro his eyes were rolling,
In one hand a branch of willow,
In the other, club of alder;
390
Struck at me with might of malice,
Aimed the cudgel at my forehead.
'When the evening had descended,
When my husband thought of slumber
Took he in his hand a whip-stalk,
With a whip-lash made of deer-skin,
Was not made for any other,
Only made for me unhappy.
'When at last I begged for mercy,
When I sought a place for resting,
By his side I courted slumber,
Merciless, my husband seized me,
Struck me with his arm of envy,
Beat me with the whip of torture,
Deer-skin-lash and stalk of birch-wood.
From his couch I leaped impulsive,
In the coldest night of winter,
But the husband fleetly followed,
Caught me at the outer portals,
Grasped me by my streaming tresses,
Tore my ringlets from my forehead,
Cast in curls upon the night-winds
To the freezing winds of winter.
What the aid that I could ask for,
Who could free me from my torment?
Made I shoes of magic metals,
Made the straps of steel and copper,
Waited long without the dwelling,
Long I listened at the portals,
Hoping he would end his ravings,
Hoping he would sink to slumber,
But he did not seek for resting,
Did not wish to still his fury.
Finally the cold benumbed me;
As an outcast from his cabin,
I was forced to walk and wander,
When I, freezing, well reflected,
This the substance of my thinking:
'I will not endure this torture,
Will not bear this thing forever,
Will not bear this cruel treatment,
Such contempt I will not suffer
391
In the wicked tribe of Hisi,
In this nest of evil Piru.'
'Then I said, 'Farewell forever!'
To my husband's home and kindred,
To my much-loved home and husband;
Started forth upon a journey
To my father's distant hamlet,
Over swamps and over snow-fields,
Wandered over towering mountains,
Over hills and through the valleys,
To my brother's welcome meadows,
To my sister's home and birthplace.
'There were rustling withered pine-trees.
Finely-feathered firs were fading,
Countless ravens there were cawing,
All the jackdaws harshly singing,
This the chorus of the ravens:
'Thou hast here a home no longer,
This is not the happy homestead
Of thy merry days of childhood.'
'Heeding not this woodland chorus,
Straight I journeyed to the dwelling
Of my childhood's friend and brother,
Where the portals spake in concord,
And the hills and valleys answered,
This their saddened song and echo:
'Wherefore dost thou journey hither,
Comest thou for joy or sorrow,
To thy father's old dominions?
Here unhappiness awaits thee,
Long departed is thy father,
Dead and gone to visit Ukko,
Dead and gone thy faithful mother,
And thy brother is a stranger,
While his wife is chill and heartless!'
'Heeding not these many warnings,
Straightway to my brother's cottage
Were my weary feet directed,
Laid my hand upon the door-latch
Of my brother's dismal cottage,
But the latch was cold and lifeless.
When I wandered to the chamber,
392
When I waited at the doorway,
There I saw the heartless hostess,
But she did not give me greeting,
Did not give her hand in welcome;
Proud, alas! was I unhappy,
Did not make the first advances,
Did not offer her my friendship,
And my hand I did not proffer;
Laid my hand upon the oven,
All its former warmth departed!
On the coal I laid my fingers,
All the latent heat had left it.
On the rest-bench lay my brother,
Lay outstretched before the fire-place,
Heaps of soot upon his shoulders,
Heaps of ashes on his forehead.
Thus the brother asked the stranger,
Questioned thus his guest politely:
'Tell me what thy name and station,
Whence thou comest o'er the waters!'
This the answer that I gave him:
Hast thou then forgot thy sister,
Does my brother not remember,
Not recall his mother's daughter
We are children of one mother,
Of one bird were we the fledgelings,
In one nest were hatched and nurtured.'
'Then the brother fell to weeping,
From his eyes great tear-drops flowing,
To his wife the brother whispered,
Whispered thus unto the housewife.
'Bring thou beer to give my sister,
Quench her thirst and cheer her spirits.'
'Full of envy, brought the sister
Only water filled with evil,
Water for the infant's eyelids,
Soap and water from the bath-room.
'To his wife the brother whispered,
Whispered thus unto the housewife:
'Bring thou salmon for my sister,
For my sister so long absent,
Thus to still her pangs of hunger.'
393
'Thereupon the wife obeying,
Brought, in envy, only cabbage
That the children had been eating,
And the house-dogs had been licking,
Leavings of the black-dog's breakfast.
'Then I left my brother's dwelling,
Hastened to the ancient homestead,
To my mother's home deserted;
Onward, onward did I wander,
Hastened onward by the cold-sea,
Dragged my body on in anguish,
To the cottage-doors of strangers,
To the unfamiliar portals,
For the care of the neglected,
For the needy of the village,
For the children poor and orphaned.
'There are many wicked people,
Many slanderers of women,
Many women evil-minded,
That malign their sex through envy.
Many they with lips of evil,
That belie the best of maidens,
Prove the innocent are guilty
Of the worst of misdemeanors,
Speak aloud in tones unceasing,
Speak, alas! with wicked motives,
Spread the follies of their neighbors
Through the tongues of self-pollution.
Very few, indeed, the people
That will feed the poor and hungry,
That will bid the stranger welcome;
Very few to treat her kindly,
Innocent, and lone, and needy,
Few to offer her a shelter
From the chilling storms of winter,
When her skirts with ice are stiffened,
Coats of ice her only raiment!
'Never in my days of childhood,
Never in my maiden life-time,
Never would believe the story
Though a hundred tongues had told
Though a thousand voices sang it,
394
That such evil things could happen,
That such misery could follow,
Such misfortune could befall one
Who has tried to do her duty,
Who has tried to live uprightly,
Tried to make her people happy.'
Thus the young bride was instructed,
Beauteous Maiden of the Rainbow,
Thus by Osmotar, the teacher.
~ Elias Lönnrot

IN CHAPTERS



   11 Poetry
   1 Zen


   7 Shiwu (Stonehouse)
   3 Shih-te




1.01 - Economy, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  
  I have looked after the wild stock of the town, which give a faithful herdsman a good deal of trouble by leaping fences; and I have had an eye to the unfrequented nooks and corners of the farm; though I did not always know whether Jonas or Solomon worked in a particular field to-day; that was none of my business. I have watered the red huckleberry, the sand cherry and the nettle tree, the Red Pine and the black ash, the white grape and the yellow violet, which might have withered else in dry seasons.
  

1.hs - Heres A Message for the Faithful, #Han-shan - Poems, #unset, #Poetry
  
  From The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, trans. Red Pine
  

1.ss - Its something no on can force, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese It's something no on can force besides knowing it's there there's nothing to know the moon shines bright above the flowering plum but who can look past the blossoms [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine
  

1.ss - Most of the time I smile, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese Most of the time I smile old men can relax my mind is free of troubles nothing but mountains meet my eyes the P'eng soars into the sky a leopard blends into mist I'm more like the flowering plum I wait for the year-end cold [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.ss - Outside the door I made but dont close, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese Outside the door I made but don't close I glimpse the movements of unfamiliar birds a handful of jade is worth a whole mountain but gold can't buy a lifetime of freedom the sound of icy falls on a dawnlit snowy ridge the sight of distant peaks through leafless autumn woods mist lifts from ancient cedars and days last forever right and wrong don't get past the clouds [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.ss - Paper windows bamboo walls hedge of hibiscus, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese Paper windows bamboo walls hedge of hibiscus when guests arrive wormwood soup serves as tea the poor people I meet are mostly content rare is the rich man who isn't vain or wasteful I move my bookstand to read sutras by moonlight I honor the buddhas with a vase of wild flowers everyone says Tushita Heaven is fine but how can it match this old hut of mine [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.ss - This bodys lifetime is like a bubbles, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese This body's lifetime is like a bubble's may as well let things go plans and events seldom agree who can step back doesn't worry we blossom and fade like flowers we gather and part like clouds earthly thoughts I forgot long ago withering away on a mountain peak [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.ss - To glorify the Way what should people turn to, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese To glorify the Way what should people turn to to words and deeds that agree but oceans of greed never fill up and sprouts of delusion keep growing a plum tree in bloom purifies a recluse a patch of potatoes cheers a lone monk but those who follow rules in their huts never see the Way or get past the mountain [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.ss - Trying to become a Buddha is easy, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine Original Language Chinese Trying to become a Buddha is easy but ending delusions is hard how many moonlit nights have I sat and felt the cold before dawn [2615.jpg] -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.st - Behold the glow of the moon, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine (Bill Porter) Original Language Chinese Behold the glow of the moon illumine the world's four quarters perfect light in perfect space a radiance that purifies people say it waxes and wanes but I don't see it fade just like a magic pearl it shines both night and day [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine
  

1.st - Doesnt anyone see, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine (Bill Porter) Original Language Chinese Doesn't anyone see the turmoil in the Three Worlds is due to endless delusion once thoughts stop the mind becomes clear nothing comes or goes neither birth nor death [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine <   

1.st - I live in a place without limits, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
   English version by Red Pine (Bill Porter) Original Language Chinese I live in a place without limits surrounded by effortless truth sometimes I climb Nirvana Peak or play in Sandalwood Temple but most of the time I relax and speak of neither profit nor fame even if the sea became a mulberry grove it wouldn't mean much to me [1489.jpg] -- from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, Translated by Red Pine <   

WORDNET



--- Overview of noun red_pine

The noun red pine has 2 senses (no senses from tagged texts)
                  
1. rimu, imou pine, red pine, Dacrydium cupressinum ::: (tall New Zealand timber tree)
2. red pine, Canadian red pine, Pinus resinosa ::: (pine of eastern North America having long needles in bunches of two and reddish bark)




--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun red_pine

2 senses of red pine                          

Sense 1
rimu, imou pine, red pine, Dacrydium cupressinum
   => conifer, coniferous tree
     => gymnospermous tree
       => tree
         => woody plant, ligneous plant
           => vascular plant, tracheophyte
             => plant, flora, plant life
               => organism, being
                 => living thing, animate thing
                   => whole, unit
                     => object, physical object
                       => physical entity
                         => entity

Sense 2
red pine, Canadian red pine, Pinus resinosa
   => pine, pine tree, true pine
     => conifer, coniferous tree
       => gymnospermous tree
         => tree
           => woody plant, ligneous plant
             => vascular plant, tracheophyte
               => plant, flora, plant life
                 => organism, being
                   => living thing, animate thing
                     => whole, unit
                       => object, physical object
                         => physical entity
                           => entity




--- Hyponyms of noun red_pine
                                    




--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun red_pine

2 senses of red pine                          

Sense 1
rimu, imou pine, red pine, Dacrydium cupressinum
   => conifer, coniferous tree

Sense 2
red pine, Canadian red pine, Pinus resinosa
   => pine, pine tree, true pine










--- Coordinate Terms (sisters) of noun red_pine

2 senses of red pine                          

Sense 1
rimu, imou pine, red pine, Dacrydium cupressinum
  -> conifer, coniferous tree
   => pine, pine tree, true pine
   => larch, larch tree
   => golden larch, Pseudolarix amabilis
   => fir, fir tree, true fir
   => cedar, cedar tree, true cedar
   => spruce
   => hemlock, hemlock tree
   => douglas fir
   => Cathaya
   => cedar, cedar tree
   => cypress, cypress tree
   => King William pine, Athrotaxis selaginoides
   => metasequoia, dawn redwood, Metasequoia glyptostrodoides
   => arborvitae
   => keteleeria
   => Wollemi pine
   => araucaria
   => kauri pine, dammar pine
   => plum-yew
   => celery pine
   => podocarp
   => yacca, yacca podocarp, Podocarpus coriaceus
   => brown pine, Rockingham podocarp, Podocarpus elatus
   => cape yellowwood, African yellowwood, Podocarpus elongatus
   => totara, Podocarpus totara
   => kahikatea, New Zealand Dacryberry, New Zealand white pine, Dacrycarpus dacrydioides, Podocarpus dacrydioides
   => rimu, imou pine, red pine, Dacrydium cupressinum
   => tarwood, tar-wood, Dacrydium colensoi
   => common sickle pine, Falcatifolium falciforme
   => yellow-leaf sickle pine, Falcatifolium taxoides
   => tarwood, tar-wood, New Zealand mountain pine, Halocarpus bidwilli, Dacrydium bidwilli
   => westland pine, silver pine, Lagarostrobus colensoi
   => huon pine, Lagarostrobus franklinii, Dacrydium franklinii
   => nagi, Nageia nagi
   => miro, black pine, Prumnopitys ferruginea, Podocarpus ferruginea
   => matai, black pine, Prumnopitys taxifolia, Podocarpus spicata
   => plum-fruited yew, Prumnopitys andina, Prumnopitys elegans
   => Prince Albert yew, Prince Albert's yew, Saxe-gothea conspicua
   => Sundacarpus amara, Prumnopitys amara, Podocarpus amara
   => Japanese umbrella pine, Sciadopitys verticillata
   => yew

Sense 2
red pine, Canadian red pine, Pinus resinosa
  -> pine, pine tree, true pine
   => pinon, pinyon
   => spruce pine, Pinus glabra
   => black pine, Pinus nigra
   => pitch pine, northern pitch pine, Pinus rigida
   => pond pine, Pinus serotina
   => stone pine, umbrella pine, European nut pine, Pinus pinea
   => Swiss pine, Swiss stone pine, arolla pine, cembra nut tree, Pinus cembra
   => Swiss mountain pine, mountain pine, dwarf mountain pine, mugho pine, mugo pine, Pinus mugo
   => ancient pine, Pinus longaeva
   => white pine
   => yellow pine
   => Jeffrey pine, Jeffrey's pine, black pine, Pinus jeffreyi
   => shore pine, lodgepole, lodgepole pine, spruce pine, Pinus contorta
   => Sierra lodgepole pine, Pinus contorta murrayana
   => loblolly pine, frankincense pine, Pinus taeda
   => jack pine, Pinus banksiana
   => swamp pine
   => red pine, Canadian red pine, Pinus resinosa
   => Scotch pine, Scots pine, Scotch fir, Pinus sylvestris
   => scrub pine, Virginia pine, Jersey pine, Pinus virginiana
   => Monterey pine, Pinus radiata
   => bristlecone pine, Rocky Mountain bristlecone pine, Pinus aristata
   => table-mountain pine, prickly pine, hickory pine, Pinus pungens
   => knobcone pine, Pinus attenuata
   => Japanese red pine, Japanese table pine, Pinus densiflora
   => Japanese black pine, black pine, Pinus thunbergii
   => Torrey pine, Torrey's pine, soledad pine, grey-leaf pine, sabine pine, Pinus torreyana










--- Grep of noun red_pine
canadian red pine
japanese red pine
red pine





IN WEBGEN [10000/668]

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1084267.Luis_Sep_lveda
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1140531.Chrissie_Loveday
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/11576731.Gabriela_Sepulveda
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1406285.Vedat_T_rkali
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14437689.Marian_Sepulveda
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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1591693.Shankar_Vedantam
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16426854.Nippon_Vedanta_Kyokai_Henshubu
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18753039.Vedant_Saxena
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18802014.Lina_Laura_vedait_
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/195813.Helen_Loveday
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19748814.LUIS_JOLIVET_JOELLE_SEPULVEDA
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2012920.Troels_Kl_vedal
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/277085.Simon_Loveday
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3415603.Shereen_Vedam
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3995602.Veda_Bharati
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4253556.Swami_Nirvedananda
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5621484.Pablo_Poveda
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/59327.A_C_Bhaktivedanta_Swami_Prabhup_da
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7060433.Sonya_Loveday
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7063121.Vedashree_Khambete_Sharma
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7609419.Sivananda_Yoga_Vedanta_Centre
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8328201.Sri_Srimad_Bhaktivedanta_Narayana_Gosvami_Maharaja
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8617108.Bhaktivedanta_Swami_Prabhupada
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9875066.Gaspar_Ortega_Sep_lveda
Goodreads author - Luis_Sep_lveda
Goodreads author - Vedat_T_rkali
Goodreads author - Swami_Nirvedananda
Goodreads author - A_C_Bhaktivedanta_Swami_Prabhup_da
Goodreads author - Sonya_Loveday
Goodreads author - Sri_Srimad_Bhaktivedanta_Narayana_Gosvami_Maharaja
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Adukkha-m-asukha_vedana
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Advaita_Vedanta
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Aparapariya-vedaniya-kamma
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Atharvaveda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Category:Ayurveda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Category:Rig_Veda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Cattle_in_religion#Atharva_Veda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Cattle_in_religion#Rig_Veda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/File:Rigveda_MS2097.jpg
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Hindu_deities#Devas_in_the_Vedas
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Rig_Veda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Rigveda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Samaveda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Soma#In_the_Rigveda
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Vedan
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Vedana
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Vedanta
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Vedas
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/World_egg#Sanskrit_scriptures_and_Vedanta
https://religion.wikia.org/wiki/Yajurveda
Kheper - I_Ching_and_Vedas -- 19
Kheper - AdvaitaVedanta -- 36
Kheper - atman -- 24
Kheper - Vedanta index -- 30
Kheper - koshas -- 42
http://malankazlev.com/kheper/topics/Vedanta/maya.html -- 0
Kheper - Ramana_on_creation -- 23
Kheper - Shankara -- 31
Kheper - Vedanta -- 48
auromere - links-between-vedas-upanishads-tantra-and-puranas
auromere - reconciling-samkhya-vedanta-and-tantra
auromere - sapta-chatushthaya
auromere - vedas-books
Integral World - Tantra and Veda: The Untold Story, Roar Bjonnes
Integral World - Ken Wilber Videos: Descartes: Reviving the West's Greatest Vedantist
selforum - rig veda samhita
selforum - forum for vedanta and science
selforum - rig veda unveiled
selforum - vedantic doctrines of
selforum - psychology in rig veda yajur veda
selforum - christian vedantist
selforum - inner meaning of vedas
selforum - vivekananda modifies classical vedanta
selforum - existentialism and vedanta
selforum - secret of veda
selforum - vedas as spiritual allegory
selforum - sankhya covered up veda rendering it
selforum - vedic to vedantic and later to
selforum - series of vedantically possible worlds
selforum - new veda of divine life
selforum - platos myth of cave reflecting vedantic
selforum - sri aurobindo learned veda without help
selforum - sri aurobindos acquaintance with veda
selforum - cow in veda is pre eminently symbolical
selforum - ancient philosophy begins with vedas
selforum - bliss of vedawise whose soul blight of
selforum - evolution and veda
selforum - sri aurobindos integral vedanta and
selforum - neo vedantic knowledge project of sri
selforum - 13 problems of sankhya vedanta proposed
selforum - roots of dharma can be traced to veda
dedroidify.blogspot - nasadiya-rig-veda-book-10-hymn-129
https://circumsolatious.blogspot.com/2018/01/lost-secrets-of-rig-veda-revealed-in.html
https://circumsolatious.blogspot.com/2018/04/i-believe-veda-to-be-foundation-of.html
https://circumsolatious.blogspot.com/2018/04/lost-secrets-of-rig-veda-recovered-full.html
wiki.auroville - Agni_Veda_Research
wiki.auroville - Ritam_"The_Word_in_the_Rig-Veda_and_in_Sri_AurobindoM-bM-^@M-^Ys_epic_poem_Savitri"
wiki.auroville - The_Secret_of_the_Veda
wiki.auroville - Vedas
Dharmapedia - A._C._Bhaktivedanta_Swami_Prabhupada
Dharmapedia - Advaita_Vedanta
Dharmapedia - Atharvaveda
Dharmapedia - Ayurveda
Dharmapedia - Category:Ayurveda
Dharmapedia - Category:Rigveda
Dharmapedia - Category:Vedanta
Dharmapedia - Category:Vedas
Dharmapedia - Chronology_of_the_Rig_Veda
Dharmapedia - File:AUM_symbol,_the_primary_(highest)_name_of_the_God_as_per_the_Vedas.svg
Dharmapedia - Flora_and_Fauna_of_the_Rig_Veda
Dharmapedia - Geography_of_the_Rig_Veda
Dharmapedia - Neo-Vedanta
Dharmapedia - Rig_Veda
Dharmapedia - Rigveda
Dharmapedia - Rigveda_and_Avesta
Dharmapedia - Samaveda
Dharmapedia - Swami_Veda_Bharati
Dharmapedia - The_Astronomical_Code_of_the_Rigveda
Dharmapedia - The_Rigveda:_A_Historical_Analysis
Dharmapedia - The_Rig_Veda_and_the_History_of_India
Dharmapedia - Veda
Dharmapedia - Vedanga
Dharmapedia - Vedanta
Dharmapedia - Vedas
Dharmapedia - Yajurveda
Psychology Wiki - Advaita_Vedanta
Psychology Wiki - Ayurveda
Psychology Wiki - Category:Vedanta
Psychology Wiki - File:Rigveda_MS2097.jpg
Psychology Wiki - Hinduism#CITEREFBhaktivedanta1997
Psychology Wiki - Rig_Veda
Psychology Wiki - Sri_Aurobindo#Discovering_the_Hidden_meaning_of_the_Vedas
Psychology Wiki - Veda
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Achintya_Bhed.C4.81bheda
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Advaita_Vedanta
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Dvaita
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Dvait.C4.81dvaita
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#External_links
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Formalization
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#History
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#In_Modern_Times
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#List_of_teachers
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Purnadvaita_or_Integral_Advaita
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#References
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#See_also
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Shuddhadvaita
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Source_texts
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Sub-schools_of_Vedanta
Psychology Wiki - Vedanta#Vishishtadvaita
Psychology Wiki - Vedas
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https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Alveda_King
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Atharva_Veda
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https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Rigveda
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Sama_Veda
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https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Vedas
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Yajurveda
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