TERMS STARTING WITH
disabilities ::: pl. --> of Disability
disability ::: n. --> State of being disabled; deprivation or want of ability; absence of competent physical, intellectual, or moral power, means, fitness, and the like.
Want of legal qualification to do a thing; legal incapacity or incompetency.
disable ::: a. --> Lacking ability; unable. ::: v. t. --> To render unable or incapable; to destroy the force, vigor, or power of action of; to deprive of competent physical or intellectual power; to incapacitate; to disqualify; to make incompetent or unfit for service; to impair.
disabled ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disable
disablement ::: n. --> Deprivation of ability; incapacity.
disabling ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disable
disabused ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disabuse
disabuse ::: v. t. --> To set free from mistakes; to undeceive; to disengage from fallacy or deception; to set right.
disabusing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disabuse
disaccommodate ::: v. t. --> To put to inconvenience; to incommode.
disaccommodation ::: n. --> A state of being unaccommodated or unsuited.
disaccordant ::: a. --> Not accordant.
disaccord ::: v. i. --> To refuse to assent. ::: n. --> Disagreement.
disaccustom ::: v. t. --> To destroy the force of habit in; to wean from a custom.
disacidify ::: v. t. --> To free from acid.
disacknowledged ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disacknowledge
disacknowledge ::: v. t. --> To refuse to acknowledge; to deny; to disown.
disacknowledging ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disacknowledge
disacquaintance ::: n. --> Neglect of disuse of familiarity, or familiar acquaintance.
disacquaint ::: v. t. --> To render unacquainted; to make unfamiliar.
disacryl ::: n. --> A white amorphous substance obtained as a polymeric modification of acrolein.
disadorn ::: v. t. --> To deprive of ornaments.
disadvance ::: v. t. & i. --> To draw back, or cause to draw back.
disadvantageable ::: a. --> Injurious; disadvantageous.
disadvantage ::: n. --> Deprivation of advantage; unfavorable or prejudicial quality, condition, circumstance, or the like; that which hinders success, or causes loss or injury.
Loss; detriment; hindrance; prejudice to interest, fame, credit, profit, or other good. ::: v. t.
disadvantageous ::: a. --> Attended with disadvantage; unfavorable to success or prosperity; inconvenient; prejudicial; -- opposed to advantageous; as, the situation of an army is disadvantageous for attack or defense.
disadventure ::: n. --> Misfortune; mishap.
disadventurous ::: a. --> Unprosperous; unfortunate.
disadvise ::: v. t. --> To advise against; to dissuade from.
disaffected ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disaffect ::: a. --> Alienated in feeling; not wholly loyal.
disaffecting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disaffect
disaffectionate ::: a. --> Not disposed to affection; unfriendly; disaffected.
disaffection ::: n. --> State of being disaffected; alienation or want of affection or good will, esp. toward those in authority; unfriendliness; dislike.
Disorder; bad constitution.
disaffect ::: v. t. --> To alienate or diminish the affection of; to make unfriendly or less friendly; to fill with discontent and unfriendliness.
To disturb the functions of; to disorder.
To lack affection for; to be alienated from, or indisposed toward; to dislike.
disaffirmance ::: n. --> The act of disaffirming; denial; negation.
Overthrow or annulment by the decision of a superior tribunal; as, disaffirmance of judgment.
disaffirmation ::: n. --> The act of disaffirming; negation; refutation.
disaffirm ::: v. t. --> To assert the contrary of; to contradict; to deny; -- said of that which has been asserted.
To refuse to confirm; to annul, as a judicial decision, by a contrary judgment of a superior tribunal.
disafforested ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disafforest
disafforesting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disafforest
disafforest ::: v. t. --> To reduce from the privileges of a forest to the state of common ground; to exempt from forest laws.
disageeing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disagree
disaggregate ::: v. t. --> To destroy the aggregation of; to separate into component parts, as an aggregate mass.
disaggregation ::: n. --> The separation of an aggregate body into its component parts.
disagreeable ::: a. --> Not agreeable, conformable, or congruous; contrary; unsuitable.
Exciting repugnance; offensive to the feelings or senses; displeasing; unpleasant.
disagreeableness ::: n. --> The state or quality of being; disagreeable; unpleasantness.
disagreeably ::: adv. --> In a disagreeable manner; unsuitably; offensively.
disagreeance ::: n. --> Disagreement.
disagreed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disagree
disagreement ::: n. --> The state of disagreeing; a being at variance; dissimilitude; diversity.
Unsuitableness; unadaptedness.
Difference of opinion or sentiment.
A falling out, or controversy; difference.
disagreer ::: n. --> One who disagrees.
disagree ::: v. i. --> To fail to accord; not to agree; to lack harmony; to differ; to be unlike; to be at variance.
To differ in opinion; to hold discordant views; to be at controversy; to quarrel.
To be unsuited; to have unfitness; as, medicine sometimes disagrees with the patient; food often disagrees with the stomach or the taste.
disalliege ::: v. t. --> To alienate from allegiance.
disallowable ::: a. --> Not allowable; not to be suffered.
disallowance ::: n. --> The act of disallowing; refusal to admit or permit; rejection.
disallowed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disallow
disallowing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disallow
disallow ::: v. t. --> To refuse to allow; to deny the force or validity of; to disown and reject; as, the judge disallowed the executor&
disally ::: v. t. --> To part, as an alliance; to sunder.
disanchor ::: v. t. & i. --> To raise the anchor of, as a ship; to weigh anchor.
disangelical ::: a. --> Not angelical.
disanimated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disanimate
disanimate ::: v. t. --> To deprive of life.
To deprive of spirit; to dishearten.
disanimating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disanimate
disanimation ::: n. --> Privation of life.
The state of being disanimated or discouraged; depression of spirits.
disannex ::: v. t. --> To disunite; to undo or repeal the annexation of.
disannuller ::: n. --> One who disannuls.
disannulment ::: n. --> Complete annulment.
disannul ::: v. t. --> To annul completely; to render void or of no effect.
disanoint ::: v. t. --> To invalidate the consecration of; as, to disanoint a king.
disapointed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disappoint
disapparel ::: v. t. --> To disrobe; to strip of apparel; to make naked.
disappear ::: 1. To pass out of sight; vanish. 2. To cease to exist. 3. Become less intense and fade away gradually. disappears, disappeared, disappearing.
disappearance ::: n. --> The act of disappearing; cessation of appearance; removal from sight; vanishing.
disappeared ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disappear
disappearing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disappear
disappear ::: v. i. --> To cease to appear or to be perceived; to pass from view, gradually or suddenly; to vanish; to be no longer seen; as, darkness disappears at the approach of light; a ship disappears as she sails from port.
To cease to be or exist; as, the epidemic has disappeared.
disappendency ::: n. --> A detachment or separation from a former connection.
disappendent ::: a. --> Freed from a former connection or dependence; disconnected.
disappointed ::: a. --> Defeated of expectation or hope; balked; as, a disappointed person or hope.
Unprepared; unequipped.
disappointing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disappoint
disappointment ::: n. --> The act of disappointing, or the state of being disappointed; defeat or failure of expectation or hope; miscarriage of design or plan; frustration.
That which disappoints.
disappoint ::: v. t. --> To defeat of expectation or hope; to hinder from the attainment of that which was expected, hoped, or desired; to balk; as, a man is disappointed of his hopes or expectations, or his hopes, desires, intentions, expectations, or plans are disappointed; a bad season disappoints the farmer of his crops; a defeat disappoints an enemy of his spoil.
To frustrate; to fail; to hinder of result.
disappreciate ::: v. t. --> To undervalue; not to esteem.
disapprobation ::: n. --> The act of disapproving; mental condemnation of what is judged wrong, unsuitable, or inexpedient; feeling of censure.
disapprobatory ::: a. --> Containing disapprobation; serving to disapprove.
disappropriate ::: a. --> Severed from the appropriation or possession of a spiritual corporation. ::: v. t. --> To release from individual ownership or possession.
To sever from appropriation or possession a
disappropriation ::: n. --> The act of disappropriating.
disapproval ::: n. --> Disapprobation; dislike; censure; adverse judgment.
disapproved ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disapprove
disapprover ::: n. --> One who disapproves.
disapprove ::: v. t. --> To pass unfavorable judgment upon; to condemn by an act of the judgment; to regard as wrong, unsuitable, or inexpedient; to censure; as, to disapprove the conduct of others.
To refuse official approbation to; to disallow; to decline to sanction; as, the sentence of the court-martial was disapproved by the commander in chief.
disapprovingly ::: adv. --> In a disapproving manner.
disapproving ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disapprove
disard ::: n. --> See Dizzard.
disarmament ::: n. --> The act of disarming.
disarmature ::: n. --> The act of divesting of armature.
disarmed ::: a. --> Deprived of arms.
Deprived of claws, and teeth or beaks.
disarmed ::: divested or relieved of hostility, suspicion, etc.; won the affection or approval of; charmed. disarming.
disarmer ::: n. --> One who disarms.
disarming ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disarm ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disarm
disarm ::: v. t. --> To deprive of arms; to take away the weapons of; to deprive of the means of attack or defense; to render defenseless.
To deprive of the means or the disposition to harm; to render harmless or innocuous; as, to disarm a man&
disarranged ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disarrange
disarrangement ::: n. --> The act of disarranging, or the state of being disarranged; confusion; disorder.
disarrange ::: v. t. --> To unsettle or disturb the order or due arrangement of; to throw out of order.
disarranging ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disarrange
disarray ::: disorder; confusion.
disarrayed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disarray
disarraying ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disarray
disarrayment ::: n. --> Disorder.
disarray ::: v. t. --> To throw into disorder; to break the array of.
To take off the dress of; to unrobe. ::: n. --> Want of array or regular order; disorder; confusion.
Confused attire; undress.
disarticulate ::: v. t. --> To sunder; to separate, as joints.
disarticulator ::: n. --> One who disarticulates and prepares skeletons.
disassenter ::: n. --> One who disassents; a dissenter.
disassent ::: v. i. --> To dissent. ::: n. --> Dissent.
disassiduity ::: n. --> Want of assiduity or care.
disassimilate ::: v. t. --> To subject to disassimilation.
disassimilation ::: n. --> The decomposition of complex substances, within the organism, into simpler ones suitable only for excretion, with evolution of energy, -- a normal nutritional process the reverse of assimilation; downward metabolism.
disassimilative ::: a. --> Having power to disassimilate; of the nature of disassimilation.
disassociated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disassociate
disassociate ::: v. t. --> To disconnect from things associated; to disunite; to dissociate.
disassociating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disassociate
disaster ::: an occurrence that causes great distress or destruction. disasters".
disasterly ::: adv. --> Disastrously.
disaster ::: n. --> An unpropitious or baleful aspect of a planet or star; malevolent influence of a heavenly body; hence, an ill portent.
An adverse or unfortunate event, esp. a sudden and extraordinary misfortune; a calamity; a serious mishap. ::: v. t. --> To blast by the influence of a baleful star.
disastrous ::: a. --> Full of unpropitious stellar influences; unpropitious; ill-boding.
Attended with suffering or disaster; very unfortunate; calamitous; ill-fated; as, a disastrous day; a disastrous termination of an undertaking.
disastrous ::: causing great distress or injury; ruinous; very unfortunate; calamitous.
disattire ::: v. t. --> To unrobe; to undress.
disaugment ::: v. t. --> To diminish.
disauthorize ::: v. t. --> To deprive of credit or authority; to discredit.
disavaunce ::: v. t. --> To retard; to repel; to do damage to.
disaventure ::: n. --> Misfortune.
disaventurous ::: a. --> Misadventurous; unfortunate.
disavouch ::: v. t. --> To disavow.
disavowal ::: n. --> The act of disavowing, disclaiming, or disowning; rejection and denial.
disavowance ::: n. --> Disavowal.
disavowed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disavow
disavower ::: n. --> One who disavows.
disavowing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disavow
disavowment ::: n. --> Disavowal.
disavow ::: v. t. --> To refuse strongly and solemnly to own or acknowledge; to deny responsibility for, approbation of, and the like; to disclaim; to disown; as, he was charged with embezzlement, but he disavows the crime.
To deny; to show the contrary of; to disprove.
disbanded ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disband
disbanding ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disband
disbandment ::: n. --> The act of disbanding.
disband ::: v. t. --> To loose the bands of; to set free; to disunite; to scatter; to disperse; to break up the organization of; especially, to dismiss from military service; as, to disband an army.
To divorce. ::: v. i. --> To become separated, broken up, dissolved, or
disbark ::: v. t. --> To disembark.
To strip of bark; to bark.
disbarment ::: n. --> Act of disbarring.
disbarred ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disbar
disbarring ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disbar
disbar ::: v. t. --> To expel from the bar, or the legal profession; to deprive (an attorney, barrister, or counselor) of his status and privileges as such.
disbase ::: v. t. --> To debase or degrade.
disbecome ::: v. t. --> To misbecome.
disbelief ::: n. --> The act of disbelieving;; a state of the mind in which one is fully persuaded that an opinion, assertion, or doctrine is not true; refusal of assent, credit, or credence; denial of belief.
disbelieved ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disbelieve
disbeliever ::: n. --> One who disbelieves, or refuses belief; an unbeliever. Specifically, one who does not believe the Christian religion.
disbelieve ::: v. t. --> Not to believe; to refuse belief or credence to; to hold not to be true or actual.
disbelieving ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disbelieve
disbench ::: v. t. --> To drive from a bench or seat.
To deprive (a bencher) of his privileges.
disbend ::: v. t. --> To unbend.
disbind ::: v. t. --> To unbind; to loosen.
disblame ::: v. t. --> To clear from blame.
disbodied ::: a. --> Disembodied.
disboscation ::: n. --> Converting forest land into cleared or arable land; removal of a forest.
disbowel ::: v. t. --> To disembowel.
disbranch ::: v. --> To divest of a branch or branches; to tear off.
disbud ::: v. --> To deprive of buds or shoots, as for training, or economizing the vital strength of a tree.
disburden ::: v. t. --> To rid of a burden; to free from a load borne or from something oppressive; to unload; to disencumber; to relieve. ::: v. i. --> To relieve one&
disburgeon ::: v. t. --> To strip of burgeons or buds; to disbud.
disbursed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disburse
disbursement ::: n. --> The act of disbursing or paying out.
That which is disbursed or paid out; as, the annual disbursements exceed the income.
disburser ::: n. --> One who disburses money.
disburse ::: v. t. --> To pay out; to expend; -- usually from a public fund or treasury.
disbursing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disburse
disburthened ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disburthen
disburthening ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disburthen
disburthen ::: v. t. --> To disburden; to relieve of a load.
discage ::: v. t. --> To uncage.
discal ::: a. --> Pertaining to, or resembling, a disk; as, discal cells.
discalceated ::: a. --> Deprived off shoes or sandals; unshod; discalced.
discalceate ::: v. t. --> To pull off shoes or sandals from.
discalceation ::: n. --> The act of pulling off the shoes or sandals.
discalced ::: a. --> Unshod; barefooted; -- in distinction from calced.
discamp ::: v. t. --> To drive from a camp.
discandy ::: v. i. --> To melt; to dissolve; to thaw.
discant ::: n. --> See Descant, n.
discapacitate ::: v. t. --> To deprive of capacity; to incapacitate.
discarded ::: adj. Cast off, rejected; discharged.
discarded ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discard
discarding ::: getting rid of; rejecting; throwing away.
discarding ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discard
discardure ::: n. --> Rejection; dismissal.
discard ::: v. t. --> To throw out of one&
discarnate ::: a. --> Stripped of flesh.
discase ::: v. t. --> To strip; to undress.
discede ::: v. i. --> To yield or give up; to depart.
disceptation ::: n. --> Controversy; disputation; discussion.
disceptator ::: n. --> One who arbitrates or decides.
discept ::: v. i. --> To debate; to discuss.
discernance ::: n. --> Discernment.
discerned ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discern
discerner ::: n. --> One who, or that which, discerns, distinguishes, perceives, or judges; as, a discerner of truth, of right and wrong.
discernible ::: a. --> Capable of being discerned by the eye or the understanding; as, a star is discernible by the eye; the identity of difference of ideas is discernible by the understanding.
discernibleness ::: n. --> The quality of being discernible.
discernibly ::: adv. --> In a manner to be discerned; perceptibly; visibly.
discerningly ::: adv. --> In a discerning manner; with judgment; judiciously; acutely.
discerning ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discern ::: a. --> Acute; shrewd; sagacious; sharp-sighted.
discernment ::: n. --> The act of discerning.
The power or faculty of the mind by which it distinguishes one thing from another; power of viewing differences in objects, and their relations and tendencies; penetrative and discriminate mental vision; acuteness; sagacity; insight; as, the errors of youth often proceed from the want of discernment.
discernment ::: **The act or process of exhibiting keen insight and keen perception; acuteness of judgement, discrimination and understanding. discernment"s.**
discern ::: to perceive by the sight or some other sense or by the intellect; see, recognize, distinguish, discriminate. discerned.
discern ::: v. t. --> To see and identify by noting a difference or differences; to note the distinctive character of; to discriminate; to distinguish.
To see by the eye or by the understanding; to perceive and recognize; as, to discern a difference. ::: v. i.
discerpibility ::: n. --> Alt. of Discerptibility
discerpible ::: a. --> Alt. of Discerptible
discerptibility ::: n. --> Capability or liableness to be discerped.
discerptible ::: a. --> Capable of being discerped.
discerption ::: n. --> The act of pulling to pieces, or of separating the parts.
discerptive ::: a. --> Tending to separate or disunite parts.
discerp ::: v. t. --> To tear in pieces; to rend.
To separate; to disunite.
discession ::: n. --> Departure.
discharged ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discharge
discharged ::: relieved of a burden, load, or weight or obligation. discharging.
discharger ::: n. --> One who, or that which, discharges. Specifically, in electricity, an instrument for discharging a Leyden jar, or electrical battery, by making a connection between the two surfaces; a discharging rod.
discharge ::: v. t. --> To relieve of a charge, load, or burden; to empty of a load or cargo; to unburden; to unload; as, to discharge a vessel.
To free of the missile with which anything is charged or loaded; to let go the charge of; as, to discharge a bow, catapult, etc.; especially, said of firearms, -- to fire off; to shoot off; also, to relieve from a state of tension, as a Leyden jar.
To of something weighing upon or impeding over one, as a debt, claim, obligation, responsibility, accusation, etc.; to
discharging ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discharge
dischevele ::: a. --> Disheveled.
dischurch ::: v. t. --> To deprive of status as a church, or of membership in a church.
discide ::: v. t. --> To divide; to cleave in two.
disciferous ::: a. --> Bearing disks.
discifloral ::: a. --> Alt. of Disciflorous
disciflorous ::: a. --> Bearing the stamens on a discoid outgrowth of the receptacle; -- said of a subclass of plants. Cf. Calycifloral.
disciform ::: a. --> Discoid.
discina ::: n. --> A genus of Branchiopoda, having a disklike shell, attached by one valve, which is perforated by the peduncle.
discinct ::: a. --> Ungirded; loosely dressed.
discind ::: v. t. --> To part; to divide.
discipled ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disciple
disciple ::: n. --> One who receives instruction from another; a scholar; a learner; especially, a follower who has learned to believe in the truth of the doctrine of his teacher; an adherent in doctrine; as, the disciples of Plato; the disciples of our Savior. ::: v. t. --> To teach; to train.
discipleship ::: n. --> The state of being a disciple or follower in doctrines and precepts.
disciples ::: “In considering the action of the Infinite we have to avoid the error of the disciple who thought of himself as the Brahman, refused to obey the warning of the elephant-driver to budge from the narrow path and was taken up by the elephant’s trunk and removed out of the way; ‘You are no doubt the Brahman,’ said the master to his bewildered disciple, ‘but why did you not obey the driver Brahman and get out of the path of the elephant Brahman?’” The Life Divine
discipless ::: n. --> A female disciple.
disciples ::: those who are pupils or adherents of the doctrines of another; followers.
disciplinable ::: a. --> Capable of being disciplined or improved by instruction and training.
Liable or deserving to be disciplined; subject to disciplinary punishment; as, a disciplinable offense.
disciplinableness ::: n. --> The quality of being improvable by discipline.
disciplinal ::: a. --> Relating to discipline.
disciplinant ::: n. --> A flagellant. See Flagellant.
disciplinarian ::: a. --> Pertaining to discipline. ::: n. --> One who disciplines; one who excels in training, especially with training, especially with regard to order and obedience; one who enforces rigid discipline; a stickler for the observance of rules and methods of training; as, he is a better
disciplinary ::: a. --> Pertaining to discipline; intended for discipline; corrective; belonging to a course of training.
disciplined ::: 1. Trained mentally or physically by instruction or exercise. 2. Having or exhibiting discipline, i.e. activity, exercise or a regimen that develops or improves a skill; training.
disciplined ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discipline
discipline(d)
discipline ::: n. --> The treatment suited to a disciple or learner; education; development of the faculties by instruction and exercise; training, whether physical, mental, or moral.
Training to act in accordance with established rules; accustoming to systematic and regular action; drill.
Subjection to rule; submissiveness to order and control; habit of obedience.
Severe training, corrective of faults; instruction by
discipliner ::: n. --> One who disciplines.
disciplines ::: branches of knowledge as well as training for the improvement of physical powers, self-control, etc.
discipling ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disciple
disciplining ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discipline
disci ::: pl. --> of Discus
disclaimed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disclaim
disclaimer ::: n. --> One who disclaims, disowns, or renounces.
A denial, disavowal, or renunciation, as of a title, claim, interest, estate, or trust; relinquishment or waiver of an interest or estate.
A public disavowal, as of pretensions, claims, opinions, and the like.
disclaiming ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disclaim
disclaim ::: v. t. --> To renounce all claim to deny; ownership of, or responsibility for; to disown; to disavow; to reject.
To deny, as a claim; to refuse.
To relinquish or deny having a claim; to disavow another&
disclamation ::: n. --> A disavowing or disowning.
disclame ::: v. t. --> To disclaim; to expel.
disclaunder ::: v. t. --> To injure one&
discloak ::: v. t. --> To take off a cloak from; to uncloak.
disclose ::: 1. To make known; reveal or uncover. 2. To cause to appear; allow to be seen; lay open to view. discloses, disclosed, disclosing , heart-disclosing.
disclosed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disclose ::: p. a. --> Represented with wings expanded; -- applied to doves and other birds not of prey.
discloser ::: n. --> One who discloses.
disclose ::: v. t. --> To unclose; to open; -- applied esp. to eggs in the sense of to hatch.
To remove a cover or envelope from;; to set free from inclosure; to uncover.
To lay open or expose to view; to cause to appear; to bring to light; to reveal.
To make known, as that which has been kept secret or hidden; to reveal; to expose; as, events have disclosed his designs.
disclosing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disclose
disclosure ::: the act or an instance of disclosing; exposure; revelation.
disclosure ::: v. t. --> The act of disclosing, uncovering, or revealing; bringing to light; exposure.
That which is disclosed or revealed.
discloud ::: v. t. --> To clear from clouds.
disclout ::: v. t. --> To divest of a clout.
disclusion ::: n. --> A shutting off; exclusion.
disc ::: n. --> A flat round plate
A circular structure either in plants or animals; as, a blood disc, a germinal disc, etc. Same as Disk.
discoast ::: v. i. --> To depart; to quit the coast (that is, the side or border) of anything; to be separated.
discoblastic ::: a. --> Applied to a form of egg cleavage seen in osseous fishes, which occurs only in a small disk that separates from the rest of the egg.
discoboli ::: pl. --> of Discobolus
discobolus ::: n. --> A thrower of the discus.
A statue of an athlete holding the discus, or about to throw it.
discodactylia ::: n. pl. --> A division of amphibians having suctorial disks on the toes, as the tree frogs.
discodactyl ::: n. --> One of the tree frogs.
discodactylous ::: a. --> Having sucking disks on the toes, as the tree frogs.
discoherent ::: a. --> Incoherent.
discoid ::: a. --> Having the form of a disk, as those univalve shells which have the whorls in one plane, so as to form a disk, as the pearly nautilus. ::: n. --> Anything having the form of a discus or disk; particularly, a discoid shell.
discoidal ::: a. --> Disk-shaped; discoid.
discolith ::: n. --> One of a species of coccoliths, having an oval discoidal body, with a thick strongly refracting rim, and a thinner central portion. One of them measures about / of an inch in its longest diameter.
discolorate ::: v. t. --> To discolor.
discoloration ::: n. --> The act of discoloring, or the state of being discolored; alteration of hue or appearance.
A discolored spot; a stain.
discolored ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discolor ::: a. --> Altered in color; /tained.
Variegated; of divers colors.
discoloring ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discolor
discolor ::: v. t. --> To alter the natural hue or color of; to change to a different color; to stain; to tinge; as, a drop of wine will discolor water; silver is discolored by sea water.
To alter the true complexion or appearance of; to put a false hue upon.
discolouring ::: changing or causing to change in colour; fading or staining, often in an undesired manner.
discomfited ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discomfit
discomfiting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discomfit
discomfiture ::: v. t. --> The act of discomfiting, or the state of being discomfited; rout; overthrow; defeat; frustration; confusion and dejection.
discomfit ::: v. t. --> To scatter in fight; to put to rout; to defeat.
To break up and frustrate the plans of; to balk/ to throw into perplexity and dejection; to disconcert. ::: a. --> Discomfited; overthrown.
discomfortable ::: a. --> Causing discomfort; occasioning uneasiness; making sad.
Destitute of comfort; uncomfortable.
discomforted ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discomfort
discomforting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discomfort
discomfort ::: v. t. --> To discourage; to deject.
To destroy or disturb the comfort of; to deprive o/ quiet enjoyment; to make uneasy; to pain; as, a smoky chimney discomforts a family.
Discouragement.
Want of comfort; uneasiness, mental or physical; disturbance of peace; inquietude; pain; distress; sorrow.
discommendable ::: a. --> Deserving, disapprobation or blame.
discommendation ::: n. --> Blame; censure; reproach.
discommender ::: n. --> One who discommends; a dispraiser.
discommend ::: v. t. --> To mention with disapprobation; to blame; to disapprove.
To expose to censure or ill favor; to put out of the good graces of any one.
discommission ::: v. t. --> To deprive of a commission or trust.
discommodate ::: v. t. --> To discommode.
discommoded ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discommode
discommode ::: v. t. --> To put inconvenience; to incommode; to trouble.
discommoding ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discommode
discommodious ::: a. --> Inconvenient; troublesome; incommodious.
discommodity ::: n. --> Disadvantage; inconvenience.
discommon ::: v. t. --> To deprive of the right of common.
To deprive of privileges.
To deprive of commonable quality, as lands, by inclosing or appropriating.
discommunity ::: n. --> A lack of common possessions, properties, or relationship.
discompany ::: v. t. --> To free from company; to dissociate.
discomplexion ::: v. t. --> To change the complexion or hue of.
discompliance ::: n. --> Failure or refusal to comply; noncompliance.
discomposed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discompose ::: a. --> Disordered; disturbed; disquieted.
discompose ::: v. t. --> To disarrange; to interfere with; to disturb; to disorder; to unsettle; to break up.
To throw into disorder; to ruffle; to destroy the composure or equanimity; to agitate.
To put out of place or service; to discharge; to displace.
discomposing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discompose
discomposition ::: n. --> Inconsistency; discordance.
discomposure ::: n. --> The state of being discomposed; disturbance; disorder; agitation; perturbation.
Discordance; disagreement of parts.
discompt ::: v. t. --> To discount. See Discount.
disconcerted ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disconcert
disconcerting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disconcert
disconcertion ::: n. --> The act of disconcerting, or state of being disconcerted; discomposure; perturbation.
disconcert ::: v. t. --> To break up the harmonious progress of; to throw into disorder or confusion; as, the emperor disconcerted the plans of his enemy.
To confuse the faculties of; to disturb the composure of; to discompose; to abash. ::: n.
disconducive ::: a. --> Not conductive; impeding; disadvantageous.
disconformable ::: a. --> Not conformable.
disconformity ::: n. --> Want of conformity or correspondence; inconsistency; disagreement.
discongruity ::: n. --> Incongruity; disagreement; unsuitableness.
disconnected ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Disconnect
disconnecting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Disconnect
disconnection ::: n. --> The act of disconnecting, or state of being disconnected; separation; want of union.
disconnect ::: v. t. --> To dissolve the union or connection of; to disunite; to sever; to separate; to disperse.
disconsecrate ::: v. t. --> To deprive of consecration or sacredness.
disconsolacy ::: n. --> The state of being disconsolate.
disconsolated ::: a. --> Disconsolate.
disconsolate ::: n. --> Disconsolateness. ::: v. t. --> Destitute of consolation; deeply dejected and dispirited; hopelessly sad; comfortless; filled with grief; as, a bereaved and disconsolate parent.
Inspiring dejection; saddening; cheerless; as, the
disconsolation ::: n. --> Dejection; grief.
discontent ::: 1. A restless desire or craving for something one does not have. 2. Lack of content; dissatisfaction.
discontent ::: a. --> Not content; discontented; dissatisfied. ::: v. t. --> To deprive of content; to make uneasy; to dissatisfy. ::: n.
discontentation ::: n. --> Discontent.
discontented ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discontent ::: p. p. & a. --> Dissatisfied; uneasy in mind; malcontent.
discontented ::: not content or satisfied; restlessly unhappy.
discontentful ::: a. --> Full of discontent.
discontenting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discontent ::: a. --> Discontented.
Causing discontent; dissatisfying.
discontentive ::: a. --> Relating or tending to discontent.
discontentment ::: n. --> The state of being discontented; uneasiness; inquietude.
discontinuable ::: a. --> Admitting of being discontinued.
discontinuance ::: n. --> The act of discontinuing, or the state of being discontinued; want of continued connection or continuity; breaking off; cessation; interruption; as, a discontinuance of conversation or intercourse; discontinuance of a highway or of travel.
A breaking off or interruption of an estate, which happened when an alienation was made by a tenant in tail, or other tenant, seized in right of another, of a larger estate than the tenant was entitled to, whereby the party ousted or injured was driven to his
discontinuation ::: n. --> Breach or interruption of continuity; separation of parts in a connected series; discontinuance.
discontinued ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discontinue
discontinuee ::: n. --> One whose possession of an estate is broken off, or discontinued; one whose estate is subject to discontinuance.
discontinuer ::: n. --> One who discontinues, or breaks off or away from; an absentee.
discontinue ::: v. t. --> To interrupt the continuance of; to intermit, as a practice or habit; to put an end to; to cause to cease; to cease using, to stop; to leave off. ::: v. i. --> To lose continuity or cohesion of parts; to be disrupted or broken off.
discontinuing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discontinue
discontinuity ::: n. --> Want of continuity or cohesion; disunion of parts.
discontinuor ::: n. --> One who deprives another of the possession of an estate by discontinuance. See Discontinuance, 2.
discontinuous ::: a. --> Not continuous; interrupted; broken off.
Exhibiting a dissolution of continuity; gaping.
disconvenience ::: n. --> Unsuitableness; incongruity.
disconvenient ::: a. --> Not convenient or congruous; unsuitable; ill-adapted.
discophora ::: n. pl. --> A division of acalephs or jellyfishes, including most of the large disklike species.
discord ::: 1. An inharmonious combination of musical tones sounded together. 2. Lack of concord or harmony between persons or things. discords.
discordable ::: a. --> That may produce discord; disagreeing; discordant.
discordance ::: n. --> Alt. of Discordancy
discordancy ::: n. --> State or quality of being discordant; disagreement; inconsistency.
discordant ::: n. --> Disagreeing; incongruous; being at variance; clashing; opposing; not harmonious.
Dissonant; not in harmony or musical concord; harsh; jarring; as, discordant notes or sounds.
Said of strata which lack conformity in direction of bedding, either as in unconformability, or as caused by a fault.
discordful ::: a. --> Full of discord; contentious.
discordous ::: a. --> Full of discord.
discord ::: v. i. --> Want of concord or agreement; absence of unity or harmony in sentiment or action; variance leading to contention and strife; disagreement; -- applied to persons or to things, and to thoughts, feelings, or purposes.
Union of musical sounds which strikes the ear harshly or disagreeably, owing to the incommensurability of the vibrations which they produce; want of musical concord or harmony; a chord demanding resolution into a concord.
discorporate ::: a. --> Deprived of the privileges or form of a body corporate.
discorrespondent ::: a. --> Incongruous.
discosent ::: v. i. --> To differ; to disagree; to dissent.
discost ::: v. i. --> Same as Discoast.
discounsel ::: v. t. --> To dissuade.
discountable ::: a. --> Capable of being, or suitable to be, discounted; as, certain forms are necessary to render notes discountable at a bank.
discounted ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discount
discountenanced ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discountenance
discountenancer ::: n. --> One who discountenances; one who disfavors.
discountenance ::: v. t. --> To ruffle or discompose the countenance of; to put of countenance; to put to shame; to abash.
To refuse to countenance, or give the support of one&
discountenancing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discountenance
discounter ::: n. --> One who discounts; a discount broker.
discounting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discount
discount ::: v. --> To deduct from an account, debt, charge, and the like; to make an abatement of; as, merchants sometimes discount five or six per cent for prompt payment of bills.
To lend money upon, deducting the discount or allowance for interest; as, the banks discount notes and bills of exchange.
To take into consideration beforehand; to anticipate and form conclusions concerning (an event).
To leave out of account; to take no notice of.
discourageable ::: a. --> Capable of being discouraged; easily disheartened.
discouraged ::: 1. Deprived of courage, hope, or confidence; disheartened; dispirited. 2. Obstructed by opposition or difficulty; hindered. discouraging.
discouraged ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discourage
discouragement ::: n. --> The act of discouraging, or the state of being discouraged; depression or weakening of confidence; dejection.
That which discourages; that which deters, or tends to deter, from an undertaking, or from the prosecution of anything; a determent; as, the revolution was commenced under every possible discouragement.
discourager ::: n. --> One who discourages.
discourage ::: v. t. --> To extinguish the courage of; to dishearten; to depress the spirits of; to deprive of confidence; to deject; -- the opposite of encourage; as, he was discouraged in his undertaking; he need not be discouraged from a like attempt.
To dishearten one with respect to; to discountenance; to seek to check by disfavoring; to deter one from; as, they discouraged his efforts.
discouraging ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discourage ::: a. --> Causing or indicating discouragement.
discoure ::: v. t. --> To discover.
discoursed ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discourse
discourse ::: n. --> The power of the mind to reason or infer by running, as it were, from one fact or reason to another, and deriving a conclusion; an exercise or act of this power; reasoning; range of reasoning faculty.
Conversation; talk.
The art and manner of speaking and conversing.
Consecutive speech, either written or unwritten, on a given line of thought; speech; treatise; dissertation; sermon, etc.;
discourser ::: n. --> One who discourse; a narrator; a speaker; an haranguer.
The writer of a treatise or dissertation.
discoursing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discourse
discoursive ::: a. --> Reasoning; characterized by reasoning; passing from premises to consequences; discursive.
Containing dialogue or conversation; interlocutory.
Inclined to converse; conversable; communicative; as, a discoursive man. ::: n.
discourteous ::: a. --> Uncivil; rude; wanting in courtesy or good manners; uncourteous.
discourtesy ::: n. --> Rudeness of behavior or language; ill manners; manifestation of disrespect; incivility.
discourtship ::: n. --> Want of courtesy.
discous ::: a. --> Disklike; discoid.
discovenant ::: v. t. --> To dissolve covenant with.
discover ::: 1. To determine the existence, presence, or fact of. 2. To be the first to find or find out or about something. 3. To reveal or make known. discovers, discovered, discovering, all-discovering, new-discovering,
discoverability ::: n. --> The quality of being discoverable.
discoverable ::: a. --> Capable of being discovered, found out, or perceived; as, many minute animals are discoverable only by the help of the microscope; truths discoverable by human industry.
discovered ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discover
discovered ::: made known; revealed, disclosed.
discoverer ::: n. --> One who discovers; one who first comes to the knowledge of something; one who discovers an unknown country, or a new principle, truth, or fact.
A scout; an explorer.
discoverer ::: someone who is the first to observe something unknown or unseen. discoverers.
discoveries ::: pl. --> of Discovery
discovering ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discover
discoverment ::: n. --> Discovery.
discovert ::: a. --> Not covert; not within the bonds of matrimony; unmarried; -- applied either to a woman who has never married or to a widow. ::: n. --> An uncovered place or part.
discoverture ::: n. --> Discovery.
A state of being released from coverture; freedom of a woman from the coverture of a husband.
discover ::: v. t. --> To uncover.
To disclose; to lay open to view; to make visible; to reveal; to make known; to show (what has been secret, unseen, or unknown).
To obtain for the first time sight or knowledge of, as of a thing existing already, but not perceived or known; to find; to ascertain; to espy; to detect.
To manifest without design; to show.
discovery ::: n. --> The action of discovering; exposure to view; laying open; showing; as, the discovery of a plot.
A making known; revelation; disclosure; as, a bankrupt is bound to make a full discovery of his assets.
Finding out or ascertaining something previously unknown or unrecognized; as, Harvey&
discovery ::: the fact of revealing or making known something that was hidden or unknown previously. flame-discovery, self-discovery, self-discovery"s, discoveries, form-discoveries.
discradle ::: v. t. --> To take from a cradle.
discrasies ::: pl. --> of Dyscrasy
discreditable ::: a. --> Not creditable; injurious to reputation; disgraceful; disreputable.
discredited ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discredit
discrediting ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Discredit
discredit ::: loss or lack of repute or esteem; impaired reputation; disrepute.
discredit ::: n. --> The act of discrediting or disbelieving, or the state of being discredited or disbelieved; as, later accounts have brought the story into discredit.
Hence, some degree of dishonor or disesteem; ill repute; reproach; -- applied to persons or things. ::: v. t.
discreditor ::: n. --> One who discredits.
discreet ::: superl. --> Possessed of discernment, especially in avoiding error or evil, and in the adaptation of means to ends; prudent; sagacious; judicious; not rash or heedless; cautious.
Differing; distinct.
discrepance ::: n. --> Alt. of Discrepancy
discrepancy ::: n. --> The state or quality of being discrepant; disagreement; variance; discordance; dissimilarity; contrariety.
discrepant ::: a. --> Discordant; at variance; disagreeing; contrary; different. ::: n. --> A dissident.
discrete ::: a. --> Separate; distinct; disjunct.
Disjunctive; containing a disjunctive or discretive clause; as, "I resign my life, but not my honor," is a discrete proposition.
Separate; not coalescent; -- said of things usually coalescent. ::: v. t.
discretely ::: adv. --> Separately; disjunctively.
discretional ::: --> Alt. of Discretionary
discretionally ::: adv. --> Alt. of Discretionarily
discretionarily ::: adv. --> At discretion; according to one&
discretionary ::: --> Left to discretion; unrestrained except by discretion or judgment; as, an ambassador with discretionary powers.
discretion ::: n. --> Disjunction; separation.
The quality of being discreet; wise conduct and management; cautious discernment, especially as to matters of propriety and self-control; prudence; circumspection; wariness.
Discrimination.
Freedom to act according to one&
discretive ::: a. --> Marking distinction or separation; disjunctive.
discretively ::: adv. --> In a discretive manner.
discriminable ::: a. --> Capable of being discriminated.
discriminal ::: a. --> In palmistry, applied to the line which marks the separation between the hand and the arm.
discriminant ::: n. --> The eliminant of the n partial differentials of any homogenous function of n variables. See Eliminant.
discs ::: phonograph records.
disdainful ::: expressive of disdain; scornful and contemptuous.
disdain ::: n. 1. A feeling of contempt for anything regarded as unworthy; haughty contempt; scorn. v. 2. To look upon or treat with contempt; despise; scorn. disdained, disdaining.
disengage ::: 1. To release from something that holds fast, connects, or entangles. 2. To free or detach oneself; withdraw. disengaging.
disfigured ::: marred or spoiled the beauty, appearance or shape of; deformed.
disframe ::: to derange or destroy the form of.
disgrace ::: a person, act, or thing that causes shame, reproach, or dishonour, or is dishonourable or shameful.
disgrace or public shame; dishonour.
disguised ::: 1. Hid the identity of by altering the appearance etc. 2. An outward semblance that misrepresents the true nature of something.
disguise ::: n. 1. A mask, costume, or manner that conceals the identity of. 2. Something that serves or is intended for concealment of identity, character, or quality; a deceptive covering, condition, manner, etc. 3. The state of being disguised; masquerade. disguises, self-disguise. v. 4. To hide under a false appearance. disguised.
disharmonising ::: causing to sound harsh and unpleasant; making discordant or disharmonious.
disharmony ::: lack of harmony; discord.
disillusion ::: 1. To deprive of belief, idealism, etc. to disenchant. 2. To free from false belief or illusions. disillusioned, world-disillusion"s.
disintegrating ::: reducing to components, fragments, or particles. self-disintegrating.
disjoined ::: have the connection undone.
disjointed ::: lacking order or coherence; disconnected.
disk ::: any surface that appears to the eye as flat and round.
dislodge ::: to remove or force out of a particular place.
dismal ::: causing gloom or dejection; dreary.
dismissed ::: sent away; dispersed; disbanded; expelled.
disordered ::: adj. Thrown into confusion or disarray.
disorder ::: n. 1. A lack of order; disarray; confusion. 2. v. disordering. Upsetting the order or function of; disarranging; muddling; confusing.
disown ::: to deny any connection with; refuse to acknowledge.
disparate ::: fundamentally distinct or different in kind; entirely dissimilar.
dispensation ("s) ::: the divine ordering of worldly affairs.
dispenser ::: one who bestows or administers.
displaced ::: 1. Removed or shifted (something) from its place; put out of the proper or usual place. 2. Took the place of; supplanted.
display ::: to show or make visible; make manifest; reveal. displayed.
disputants ::: those who argue or dispute.
disputed ::: 1. Engaged in argument or debate. 2. Questioned the truth or validity of; doubted. disputing.
disquieting ::: causing anxiety or uneasiness; disturbing.
disrobe ::: fig. To divest, strip. disrobed.
disrupt ::: 1. To cause disorder or turmoil in. 2. To destroy, usually temporarily, the normal continuance or unity of; interrupt. 3. To break apart. disrupted.
dissatisfied ::: 1. Not satisfied or pleased; discontented. 2. Feeling or exhibiting a lack of contentment or satisfaction.
dissatisfies ::: fails to satisfy; disappoints.
dissects ::: examines minutely part by part, to analyze.
dissidence ::: disagreement.
dissident ::: that which disagrees, differs.
dissident ::: Yet some minutest dissident might escape
dissolution ("s) ::: decomposition into fragments or parts; disintegration.
dissolve ::: 1. To cause to disappear or vanish; dispel. ::: 2. To cause to fade away. dissolved, dissolving.
dissonant ::: harsh and inharmonious in sound; discordant; jarring.
distance ::: 1. The extent of space between two objects or the fact or condition of being apart in space; remoteness. 2. The interval between two points of time; an extent of time. 3. Separation or remoteness in relationship; disparity. distances.
distant ::: 1. Far away or apart in space or time. 2. Apart in relevance, association, or relationship.
distinguishing ::: perceiving clearly by sight or other sense; discerning something as being different or distinct.
distorted ::: twisted, deformed, misshapen. distorting.
distrustful ::: unable or unwilling to trust; doubtful; suspicious.
distrust ::: lack of trust or confidence.
disturbance ::: an interruption or intrusion that breaks up tranquillity or peace.
disturbed ::: interrupted the quiet, rest, peace, or order of; unsettled. disturbs.
disturbing ::: n. 1. A disturbance. adj. 2. Upsetting or disquieting; dismaying. heart-disturbing.**
disvalued ::: regarded as of little or no value.
Discernment ::: “A swift intuitive discernment shone.”
Discipline
Discovered suddenly Hell"s trademark there.
Discovered suddenly Hell’s trademark there.
DISCUSSIONS. ::: They usually bring on the sadhaka a stress of the opposing atmosphere and cannot be helpful to his pro- gress. Reserve is the best attitude.
Disinterfsted work is work done with no other motive than that of doing as well as possible the Divine work.
Displaced the spirit’s finer view of things:
DISQUALIFICATIONS. ::: One who fears monotony and wants something new would not be able to do yoga or at least this yoga which needs an inexhaustible perseverance and patience.
DISTRUST. ::: Distrust and disobedience are like falsehood
DISTURBANCES. ::: There are always two things that can rise up and assail the silence — vital suggestions, the physical mind’s mechanical recurrences. Calm rejection for both is the cure
TERMS ANYWHERE
1. A distinctive and pervasive quality or character; air; atmosphere. 2. A subtle emanation from and enveloping living persons and things, viewed by mystics as consisting of the essence of the individual.
1. Activity or motion that is often unduly hurried; haste, often due to agitation, pressure or eagerness to accomplish something. 2. Commotion or agitation; disturbance, tumult; bustle. hurries, hurried, hurrying.
1. An intense, painful feeling of repugnance, fear and shock. 2. Something or someone that inspires dislike; dread; fright; something horrible.
1. Came in rough contact while moving; pushed and shoved. 2. Contended with. 3. Unsettled; disturbed. jostling.
1. Causing irreversible ruin, destruction or death; disastrous. 2. Decisively important; fateful. 3. Proceeding from or decreed by fate; inevitable. 4. Influencing or concerned with fate; fatalistic.
1. Disappeared gradually; vanished. 2. Having lost freshness, brilliance of colour, etc.
1. Fiendishly evil. 2. A mythical watchdog of hell.
1. Having momentous significance or consequences; decisively important. 2. Fatal, deadly, or disastrous. 3. Controlled or determined by destiny; inexorable. 4. Prophetic; ominous.
1. Misfortunes, calamities, disasters; adversities. 2. Bodily disorder, disease, sickness.
1. Reduced to fragments. 2. Existing or functioning as though broken into separate parts; disorganized; disunified.
1. The state or quality of being immense; vastness; enormity; boundlessness. 2. Something immense or infinite. 3. Enormous expanse, distance, or volume. Immensity, immensities.
1. To become dim, as light, or lose brightness of illumination. 2.* Become less clearly visible or distinguishable; disappear gradually or seemingly, lit. and fig. *3. To lose strength or vitality; wane. 4. To vanish slowly; die out. 5. To grow dim, fade away, become less loud. fades, faded, fading.
1. To or at a greater extent or degree or a more advanced stage. 2. More distant in especially space, degree or time.
abandon ::: 1. To give oneself up, devote oneself to (a person or thing); to yield oneself without restraint. 2. To withdraw one"s support or help from, especially in spite of duty, allegiance, or responsibility; desert: leave behind. 3. To give up; discontinue; withdraw from. abandons, abandoned, abandoning.
A being of the lower vital planes who has assumed the discarded vital sheath of a departed human being or a fragment of his vital personality and appears and acts in the form and perhaps with the surface thoughts and memories of that person.
abhorred ::: regarded with extreme repugnance, aversion or disgust; detested; loathed. abhorring.
absent ::: 1. Being away, withdrawn from, or not present (at a place). 2. Of time: Not present, distant, far off.
absolve ::: 1. To free from guilt, blame or their consequences; discharge (from obligations, liabilities, etc.). 2. To set free, release. 3. To clear off, discharge, acquit oneself of (a task, etc.); to perform completely, accomplish, finish. absolves, absolved.
accent ::: 1. The way in which anything is said; pronunciation, tone, voice; sound, modulation or modification of the voice expressing feeling. 2. A mark indicating stress or some other distinction in pronunciation or value. accents.
accident ::: 1. Any event that happens unexpectedly, without a deliberate plan or cause. 2. A fortuitous circumstance, quality, or characteristic. 3. An unfortunate event, a disaster, a mishap. accidents.
"A cosmos or universe is always a harmony, otherwise it could not exist, it would fly to pieces. But as there are musical harmonies which are built out of discords partly or even predominantly, so this universe (the material) is disharmonious in its separate elements — the individual elements are at discord with each other to a large extent; it is only owing to the sustaining Divine Will behind that the whole is still a harmony to those who look at it with the cosmic vision. But it is a harmony in evolution in progress — that is, all is combined to strive towards a goal which is not yet reached, and the object of our yoga is to hasten the arrival to this goal. When it is reached, there will be a harmony of harmonies substituted for the present harmony built up on discords. This is the explanation of the present appearance of things.” Letters on Yoga
acquittance ::: release from a debt or obligation; discharge.
adamant ::: n. 1. Any impenetrably or unyieldingly hard substance. 2. A legendary stone of impenetrable hardness, formerly sometimes identified with the diamond. adj. **3. Unshakeable, inflexible, utterly unyielding. 4. Incapable of being broken, dissolved, or penetrated; immovable, impregnable. adamantine.**
adj. 1. Lacking in colour or brightness, vividness, clearness, loudness, strength, etc. 2. Indistinct, ill-defined; dim; faded; slight. 3. Feeble through hunger, fear, exhaustion, etc. 4. Inclined to ‘faint" or swoon. faintest, faint-foot. v. 5. To lose strength, brightness, colour, courage etc.; to fade. 6. To grow weak. 7. To feel weak, dizzy or exhausted; falter; about to lose consciousness. 8. To weaken in purpose or spirit. faints, fainted, fainting.
adj. 1. Not imprisoned or enslaved; being at liberty. 2. Unconstrained; unconfined. 3. Unobstructed; clear. 4. Ready or generous in using or giving; liberal; lavish. 5. Exempt from external authority, interference, restriction, etc., as a person or one"s will, thought, choice, action, etc.; independent; unrestricted. 6. Exempt or released from something specified that controls, restrains, burdens, etc. (usually followed by from or of). 7. Given readily or in profusion. freer, thought-free, world-free. *adv. *8. In a free manner; without constraints; unimpeded. v. 9. To make free; set at liberty; release from bondage, imprisonment, or restraint. 10. To disengage or clear something from an entanglement. 11. To relieve or rid of a burden, an inconvenience or an obligation. freed. set free. Released; liberated; freed.
adversity ::: the condition of adverse fortune or fate; a state opposed to well-being or prosperity; misfortune, distress, trial, or affliction.
afar ::: far, far away, at or to a distance; fig. remotely.from afar. From a long way off.
afflicted ::: distressed with mental or bodily pain; troubled greatly; grievously depressed, oppressed, cast down; tormented.
afflicting ::: 1. Grievously painful, distressing. 2. Distressing with bodily or mental suffering; troubling grievously, tormenting. self-afflicting.
age ::: n. **1. A great period or stage of the history of the Earth. 2. Hist. Any great period or portion of human history distinguished by certain characters real or mythical, as the Golden Age, the Patriarchal Age, the Bronze Age, the Age of the Reformation, the Middle Ages, the Prehistoric Age. 3. A generation or a series of generations. 4. Advanced years; old age. age"s, ages, ages". v. 5.** To grow old; to become aged.
agent ::: n. **1. One who does the actual work of anything, as distinguished from the instigator or employer; hence, one who acts for another, a deputy, steward, factor, substitute, representative, or emissary. adj. 2. That which acts or exerts power. agents.**
aggrandise ::: to make (something) appear greater; to widen in scope ,magnify. aggrandising.
*[Agni]. Sri Aurobindo: "Agni is the leader of the sacrifice and protects it in the great journey against the powers of darkness. The knowledge and purpose of this divine Puissance can be entirely trusted; he is the friend and lover of the soul and will not betray it to evil gods. Even for the man sitting far off in the night, enveloped by the darkness of the human ignorance, this flame[Agni] is a light which, when it is perfectly kindled and in proportion as it mounts higher and higher, enlarges itself into the vast light of the Truth. Flaming upward to heaven to meet the divine Dawn, it rises through the vital or nervous mid-world and through our mental skies and enters at last the Paradise of Light, its own supreme home above where joyous for ever in the eternal Truth that is the foundation of the sempiternal Bliss the shining Immortals sit in their celestial sessions and drink the wine of the infinite beatitude.” *The Secret of the Veda
agony ::: 1. Anguish of mind, sore trouble or distress, a paroxysm of grief. 2. The convulsive throes, or pangs of death; the death struggle. 3. Extreme bodily suffering, such as to produce writhing or throes of the body. agonies.
"All disease is a means towards some new joy of health, all evil & pain a tuning of Nature for some more intense bliss & good, all death an opening on widest immortality. Why and how this should be so, is God"s secret which only the soul purified of egoism can penetrate.” Essays Divine and Human
"All depends on the meaning you attach to words used; it is a matter of nomenclature. Ordinarily, one says a man has intellect if he can think well; the nature and process and field of the thought do not matter. If you take intellect in that sense, then you can say that intellect has different strata, and Ford belongs to one stratum of intellect, Einstein to another — Ford has a practical and executive business intellect, Einstein a scientific discovering and theorising intellect. But Ford too in his own field theorises, invents, discovers. Yet would you call Ford an intellectual or a man of intellect? I would prefer to use for the general faculty of mind the word intelligence. Ford has a great and forceful practical intelligence, keen, quick, successful, dynamic. He has a brain that can deal with thoughts also, but even there his drive is towards practicality. He believes in rebirth (metempsychosis), for instance, not for any philosophic reason, but because it explains life as a school of experience in which one gathers more and more experience and develops by it. Einstein has, on the other hand, a great discovering scientific intellect, not, like Marconi, a powerful practical inventive intelligence for the application of scientific discovery. All men have, of course, an ‘intellect" of a kind; all, for instance, can discuss and debate (for which you say rightly intellect is needed); but it is only when one rises to the realm of ideas and moves freely in it that you say, ‘This man has an intellect".” Letters on Yoga
". . . all error is a disfiguration of some misunderstood fragments of truth. . . .” The Synthesis of Yoga*
"All life is only a lavish and manifold opportunity given us to discover, realise , express the Divine.” Social and Political Thought
allotted ::: 1. Divided or distributed by share or portion; apportioned. 2. Assigned as a portion, set apart, dedicated.
all- ::: prefix: Wholly, altogether, infinitely. Since 1600, the number of these [combinations] has been enormously extended, all-** having become a possible prefix, in poetry at least, to almost any adjective of quality. all-affirming, All-Beautiful, All-Beautiful"s, All-Bliss, All-Blissful, All-causing, all-concealing, all-conquering, All-Conscient, All-Conscious, all-containing, All-containing, all-creating, all-defeating, All-Delight, all-discovering, all-embracing, all-fulfilling, all-harbouring, all-inhabiting, all-knowing, All-knowing, All-Knowledge, all-levelling, All-Life, All-love, All-Love, all-negating, all-powerful, all-revealing, All-ruler, all-ruling, all-seeing, All-seeing, all-seeking, all-shaping, all-supporting, all-sustaining, all-swallowing, All-Truth, All-vision, All-Wisdom, all-wise, All-Wise, all-witnessing, All-Wonderful, All-Wonderful"s.**
aloof ::: 1. At a distance; distant; hence, detached, unsympathetic. 2. Away at some distance (from), with a clear space intervening, apart. aloofness.
"Always keep in touch with the Divine Force. The best thing for you is to do that simply and allow it to do its own work; wherever necessary, it will take hold of the inferior energies and purify them; at other times it will empty you of them and fill you with itself. But if you let your mind take the lead and discuss and decide what is to be done, you will lose touch with the Divine Force and the lower energies will begin to act for themselves and all go into confusion and a wrong movement.” Letters on Yoga
amber ::: a pale yellow, sometimes reddish or brownish, fossil resin of vegetable origin, translucent, brittle, and capable of gaining a negative electrical charge by friction and of being an excellent insulator. 2. The yellowish-brown colour of resin.
ambiguous ::: 1. Open to or having several possible meanings or interpretations; equivocal; questionable; indistinct, obscure, not clearly defined. 2. Of doubtful or uncertain nature; difficult to comprehend, distinguish, or classify; admitting more than one interpretation, or explanation; of double meaning. 3. Of oracles, people, using words of double meaning. ambiguously.
ambition ::: an earnest desire for some type of achievement or distinction, as power, honour, fame, or wealth, and the willingness to strive for its attainment. ambitions.
A mental formation stamped by the thoughts and feelings of a departed human being on the atmosphere of a place or locality, wandering about there or repeating itself, till that formation either exhausts itself or is dissolved by one means or another. This is the explanation of such phenomena as the haunted house in which the scenes attending or surrounding or preceding a murder are repeated over and over again and many other similar phenomena.
::: "A Mind, a Will seems to have imagined and organised the universe, but it has veiled itself behind its creation; its first erection has been this screen of an inconscient Energy and a material form of substance, at once a disguise of its presence and a plastic creative basis on which it could work as an artisan uses for his production of forms and patterns a dumb and obedient material.” The Life Divine
amorous ::: inclined or disposed to love; in love, enamoured, fond. 2. Showing or expressing love. 3. Being in love; enamoured.
anarchy ::: a state of society without government or law ; lawlessness, confusion, chaos, disorder.
anguish ::: excruciating or acute distress, suffering, or pain. anguished.
another ::: adj. 1. Being one more or more of the same; further; additional. 2. Very similar to; of the same kind or category as. 3. Different; distinct; of a different period, place, or kind. pron. **4. A person other than oneself or the one specified. 5. One more; an additional one. another"s**.
anxious ::: full of mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune; greatly worried.
"A philosophy of change?(1) But what is change? In ordinary parlance change means passage from one condition to another and that would seem to imply passage from one status to another status. The shoot changes into a tree, passes from the status of shoot to the status of tree and there it stops; man passes from the status of young man to the status of old man and the only farther change possible to him is death or dissolution of his status. So it would seem that change is not something isolated which is the sole original and eternal reality, but it is something dependent on status, and if status were non-existent, change also could not exist. For we have to ask, when you speak of change as alone real, change of what, from what, to what? Without this ‘what" change could not be. ::: —Change is evidently the change of some form or state of existence from one condition to another condition.” Essays Divine and Human
appalling ::: causing dismay or horror; shocking.
appear ::: 1. To come into sight; become visible; come into view, as from a place or state of concealment, or from a distance; esp. of angels, spirits, visions. 2. To come into existence; be created. 3. To be clear to the understanding. 4. To seem or look to be. appears, appeared, appearing.
apt ::: 1. Having a natural tendency; inclined; disposed. 2. Unusually intelligent; able to learn quickly and easily. 3. Exactly suitable; appropriate.
arbitrary ::: 1. Based on or subject to individual will, judgment or preference: judgment without restriction; contingent solely upon one"s discretion. 2. Capricious; unreasonable; unsupported. 3. Derived from mere opinion or preference; capricious; uncertain. 4. Having unlimited power; uncontrolled or unrestricted by law; despotic; tyrannical.
argument ::: 1. A fact or statement put forth as proof or evidence; a reason; persuasive discourse, debate. 2. A process of reasoning; series of reasons.
arrange ::: 1. To put into a specific order or relation; dispose. 2. To settle the order, manner, and circumstantial relations of (a thing to be done); to prepare or plan beforehand. arranged, arranging, self-arranged.
array ::: an orderly, often imposing arrangement or series of things displayed; an imposing series.
arrogant ::: 1. Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. 2. Marked by or arising from a feeling or assumption of one"s superiority toward others.
ascetic ::: one who dedicates his or her life to a pursuit of contemplative ideals, whether by seclusion or by abstinence from creature comforts, and practices extreme self-denial, rigorous self-discipline or self-mortification. ascetic"s, ascetics.
::: "As for immortality, it cannot come if there is attachment to the body, — for it is only by living in the immortal part of oneself which is unidentified with the body and bringing down its consciousness and force into the cells that it can come. I speak of course of yogic means. The scientists now hold that it is (theoretically at least) possible to discover physical means by which death can be overcome, but that would mean only a prolongation of the present consciousness in the present body. Unless there is a change of consciousness and change of functionings it would be a very small gain.” Letters on Yoga
ashamed ::: feeling shame; distressed or embarrassed by feeling of guilt, foolishness, or disgrace.
aside ::: 1. On or to one"s side; to or at a short distance apart; away from some position or direction. 2. To or toward the side. 3. Out of one"s thoughts or mind. 4. In reserve; in a separate place, as for safekeeping; apart; away.
asphodel ::: a genus of liliaceous plants with very attractive white, pink or yellow flowers, mostly natives of the south of Europe; by the poets made an immortal flower, and said to cover the Elysian (heavenly, paradisal) fields.
"A spiritual knowledge, moved to arrive at the true Self in us, must reject, as the traditional way of knowledge rejects, all misleading appearances. It must discover that the body is not our self, our foundation of existence; it is a sensible form of the Infinite.” The Synthesis of Yoga
a star so distant from Earth that its position in relation to other stars appears not to change.
astonished ::: 1. Amazed, filled with sudden and overpowering surprise or wonder. 2. Filled with consternation; dismayed. astonishing.
a stroke, beat; in music and prosody the stress or accent marking the rhythm; the intensity of delivery which distinguishes one syllable or note from others.
astuce ::: astuteness, i.e. of keen penetration or discernment, sagacious.
at a distance ::: far, remote from someone or something.
"At every turn it is the divine Reality which we can discover behind that which we are yet compelled by the nature of the superficial consciousness in which we dwell to call undivine and in a sense are right in using that apellation; for these appearances are a veil over the Divine Perfection, a veil necessary for the present, but not at all the true and complete figure.” The Life Divine
atheist ::: adj. Disbelieving or denying the existence of a supreme God.
"A third step is to find out that there is something in him other than his instrumental mind, life and body, not only an immortal ever-developing individual soul that supports his nature but an eternal immutable self and spirit, and to learn what are the categories of his spiritual being, until he discovers that all in him is an expression of the spirit and distinguishes the link between his lower and his higher existence; thus he sets out to remove his constitutional self-ignorance. Discovering self and spirit he discovers God; he finds out that there is a Self beyond the temporal: he comes to the vision of that Self in the cosmic consciousness as the divine Reality behind Nature and this world of beings; his mind opens to the thought or the sense of the Absolute of whom self and the individual and the cosmos are so many faces; the cosmic, the egoistic, the original ignorance begin to lose the rigidness of their hold upon him.” The Life Divine
attaint ::: disgrace, corruption; taint; stain .
austere ::: 1. Severe in manner or appearance; uncompromising; strict; forbidding; stark. 2. Rigorously self-disciplined and severely moral; ascetic; abstinent. 3. Grave; sober; solemn; serious. 4. Without excess, luxury, or ease; severely simple; without ornament. austerity.
babble ::: 1. v. To utter sounds or words imperfectly, indistinctly, or without meaning. 2.* **n. *A murmuring sound or a confusion of sounds.
babel ::: "The reference is to the mythological story of the construction of the Tower of Babel, which appears to be an attempt to explain the diversity of human languages. According to Genesis, the Babylonians wanted to make a name for themselves by building a mighty city and tower ‘with its top in the heavens". God disrupted the work by so confusing the language of the workers that they could no longer understand one another. The tower was never completed and the people were dispersed over the face of the earth.” (Encyclopaedia Britannica) Glossary and Index of Proper Names in Sri Aurobindo"s Works Sri Aurobindo: "The legend of the Tower of Babel speaks of the diversity of tongues as a curse laid on the race; but whatever its disadvantages, and they tend more and more to be minimised by the growth of civilisation and increasing intercourse, it has been rather a blessing than a curse, a gift to mankind rather than a disability laid upon it. The purposeless exaggeration of anything is always an evil, and an excessive pullulation of varying tongues that serve no purpose in the expression of a real diversity of spirit and culture is certainly a stumbling-block rather than a help: but this excess, though it existed in the past, is hardly a possibility of the future. The tendency is rather in the opposite direction. In former times diversity of language helped to create a barrier to knowledge and sympathy, was often made the pretext even of an actual antipathy and tended to a too rigid division. The lack of sufficient interpenetration kept up both a passive want of understanding and a fruitful crop of active misunderstandings. But this was an inevitable evil of a particular stage of growth, an exaggeration of the necessity that then existed for the vigorous development of strongly individualised group-souls in the human race. These disadvantages have not yet been abolished, but with closer intercourse and the growing desire of men and nations for the knowledge of each other"s thought and spirit and personality, they have diminished and tend to diminish more and more and there is no reason why in the end they should not become inoperative.” The Human Cycle
bare ::: v. 1. To make bare; uncover or reveal. 2. Fig. To expose. bared, baring. adj. 3. Lacking clothing or covering; naked 4. Fig. Exposed to view; undisguised. 5. Just sufficient; mere. 6. Lacking embellishment or ornamentation; unembellished; simple; plain. 7. Unprotected; without defence. 8. Devoid of covering, a leafless trees. 9. Sheer, as bare cliffs. heaven-bare, bareness.
baulked ::: checked, foiled, hindered, thwarted; disappointed.
disappear ::: 1. To pass out of sight; vanish. 2. To cease to exist. 3. Become less intense and fade away gradually. disappears, disappeared, disappearing.
disarmed ::: divested or relieved of hostility, suspicion, etc.; won the affection or approval of; charmed. disarming.
disarray ::: disorder; confusion.
disaster ::: an occurrence that causes great distress or destruction. disasters".
disastrous ::: causing great distress or injury; ruinous; very unfortunate; calamitous.
discarded ::: adj. Cast off, rejected; discharged.
discarding ::: getting rid of; rejecting; throwing away.
discernment ::: **The act or process of exhibiting keen insight and keen perception; acuteness of judgement, discrimination and understanding. discernment"s.**
discern ::: to perceive by the sight or some other sense or by the intellect; see, recognize, distinguish, discriminate. discerned.
discharged ::: relieved of a burden, load, or weight or obligation. discharging.
disciples ::: those who are pupils or adherents of the doctrines of another; followers.
disciplined ::: 1. Trained mentally or physically by instruction or exercise. 2. Having or exhibiting discipline, i.e. activity, exercise or a regimen that develops or improves a skill; training.
disciplines ::: branches of knowledge as well as training for the improvement of physical powers, self-control, etc.
disclose ::: 1. To make known; reveal or uncover. 2. To cause to appear; allow to be seen; lay open to view. discloses, disclosed, disclosing , heart-disclosing.
disclosure ::: the act or an instance of disclosing; exposure; revelation.
discolouring ::: changing or causing to change in colour; fading or staining, often in an undesired manner.
discontent ::: 1. A restless desire or craving for something one does not have. 2. Lack of content; dissatisfaction.
discontented ::: not content or satisfied; restlessly unhappy.
discord ::: 1. An inharmonious combination of musical tones sounded together. 2. Lack of concord or harmony between persons or things. discords.
discouraged ::: 1. Deprived of courage, hope, or confidence; disheartened; dispirited. 2. Obstructed by opposition or difficulty; hindered. discouraging.
discover ::: 1. To determine the existence, presence, or fact of. 2. To be the first to find or find out or about something. 3. To reveal or make known. discovers, discovered, discovering, all-discovering, new-discovering,
discovered ::: made known; revealed, disclosed.
discoverer ::: someone who is the first to observe something unknown or unseen. discoverers.
discovery ::: the fact of revealing or making known something that was hidden or unknown previously. flame-discovery, self-discovery, self-discovery"s, discoveries, form-discoveries.
discredit ::: loss or lack of repute or esteem; impaired reputation; disrepute.
discs ::: phonograph records.
disdainful ::: expressive of disdain; scornful and contemptuous.
disdain ::: n. 1. A feeling of contempt for anything regarded as unworthy; haughty contempt; scorn. v. 2. To look upon or treat with contempt; despise; scorn. disdained, disdaining.
disengage ::: 1. To release from something that holds fast, connects, or entangles. 2. To free or detach oneself; withdraw. disengaging.
disfigured ::: marred or spoiled the beauty, appearance or shape of; deformed.
disframe ::: to derange or destroy the form of.
disgrace ::: a person, act, or thing that causes shame, reproach, or dishonour, or is dishonourable or shameful.
disgrace or public shame; dishonour.
disguised ::: 1. Hid the identity of by altering the appearance etc. 2. An outward semblance that misrepresents the true nature of something.
disguise ::: n. 1. A mask, costume, or manner that conceals the identity of. 2. Something that serves or is intended for concealment of identity, character, or quality; a deceptive covering, condition, manner, etc. 3. The state of being disguised; masquerade. disguises, self-disguise. v. 4. To hide under a false appearance. disguised.
disharmonising ::: causing to sound harsh and unpleasant; making discordant or disharmonious.
disharmony ::: lack of harmony; discord.
disillusion ::: 1. To deprive of belief, idealism, etc. to disenchant. 2. To free from false belief or illusions. disillusioned, world-disillusion"s.
disintegrating ::: reducing to components, fragments, or particles. self-disintegrating.
disjoined ::: have the connection undone.
disjointed ::: lacking order or coherence; disconnected.
disk ::: any surface that appears to the eye as flat and round.
dislodge ::: to remove or force out of a particular place.
dismal ::: causing gloom or dejection; dreary.
dismissed ::: sent away; dispersed; disbanded; expelled.
disordered ::: adj. Thrown into confusion or disarray.
disorder ::: n. 1. A lack of order; disarray; confusion. 2. v. disordering. Upsetting the order or function of; disarranging; muddling; confusing.
disown ::: to deny any connection with; refuse to acknowledge.
disparate ::: fundamentally distinct or different in kind; entirely dissimilar.
dispensation ("s) ::: the divine ordering of worldly affairs.
dispenser ::: one who bestows or administers.
displaced ::: 1. Removed or shifted (something) from its place; put out of the proper or usual place. 2. Took the place of; supplanted.
display ::: to show or make visible; make manifest; reveal. displayed.
disputants ::: those who argue or dispute.
disputed ::: 1. Engaged in argument or debate. 2. Questioned the truth or validity of; doubted. disputing.
disquieting ::: causing anxiety or uneasiness; disturbing.
disrobe ::: fig. To divest, strip. disrobed.
disrupt ::: 1. To cause disorder or turmoil in. 2. To destroy, usually temporarily, the normal continuance or unity of; interrupt. 3. To break apart. disrupted.
dissatisfied ::: 1. Not satisfied or pleased; discontented. 2. Feeling or exhibiting a lack of contentment or satisfaction.
dissatisfies ::: fails to satisfy; disappoints.
dissects ::: examines minutely part by part, to analyze.
dissidence ::: disagreement.
dissident ::: that which disagrees, differs.
dissolution ("s) ::: decomposition into fragments or parts; disintegration.
dissolve ::: 1. To cause to disappear or vanish; dispel. ::: 2. To cause to fade away. dissolved, dissolving.
dissonant ::: harsh and inharmonious in sound; discordant; jarring.
distance ::: 1. The extent of space between two objects or the fact or condition of being apart in space; remoteness. 2. The interval between two points of time; an extent of time. 3. Separation or remoteness in relationship; disparity. distances.
distant ::: 1. Far away or apart in space or time. 2. Apart in relevance, association, or relationship.
distinguishing ::: perceiving clearly by sight or other sense; discerning something as being different or distinct.
distorted ::: twisted, deformed, misshapen. distorting.
distrustful ::: unable or unwilling to trust; doubtful; suspicious.
distrust ::: lack of trust or confidence.
disturbance ::: an interruption or intrusion that breaks up tranquillity or peace.
disturbed ::: interrupted the quiet, rest, peace, or order of; unsettled. disturbs.
disturbing ::: n. 1. A disturbance. adj. 2. Upsetting or disquieting; dismaying. heart-disturbing.**
disvalued ::: regarded as of little or no value.
"Beauty is Ananda taking form — but the form need not be a physical shape. One speaks of a beautiful thought, a beautiful act, a beautiful soul. What we speak of as beauty is Ananda in manifestation; beyond manifestation beauty loses itself in Ananda or, you may say, beauty and Ananda become indistinguishably one.” The Future Poetry
belt ::: 1. Any encircling or transverse band, strip, or stripe characteristically distinguished from the surface it crosses. 2. An elongated region having distinctive properties or characteristics and long in proportion to its breadth. 3. A zone or district.
bequeathed ::: disposed of (property, etc.) by last will; fig. handed down, passed on.
betray ::: 1. To be false or disloyal to. 2. To lead astray; deceive. 3. To divulge, disclose in a breach of confidence, a secret. 4. To show signs of; reveal; indicate. betrays, betrayed, betraying, moon-betrayed.
bird of paradise
bitter ::: 1. Having or being a taste that is sharp, acrid, and unpleasant. 2. Difficult or distasteful to accept, admit; bear or endure. 3. Proceeding from or exhibiting strong animosity. 4. Causing a sharply unpleasant, painful, or stinging sensation; harsh; severe. bitterness.
blank ::: n. 1. Fig. Any void space. blanks. adj. 2. Empty, without contents, void, bare. 3. Devoid of activity, interest, or distinctive character; empty. 4. Mere, bare, simple. 5. Lacking expression; expressionless, showing no interest or emotion, vacant. 6. Absolute; complete. blankness.
blaspheme ::: to speak in an irreverent, contemptuous or disrespectful manner; curse; (esp. God, a divine being or sacred things).
blaze ::: n. 1. A brilliant burst of fire, a bright glowing flame. 2. A brilliant, striking display; a brilliant light; resplendent with bright colour. 3. A steady, clear light. 4. Fig. An intense outburst of passion, etc. ::: sun-blaze. v. 5. blazed.
blazoned ::: proclaimed loudly or displayed ostentatiously or conspicuously.
blind ::: adj. 1. Unable to see; lacking the sense of sight; sightless. Also fig. 2. Unwilling or unable to perceive or understand. 3. Lacking all consciousness or awareness. 4. Not having or based on reason or intelligence; absolute and unquestioning. 5. Not characterized or determined by reason or control. 6. Purposeless; fortuitous, random. 7. Undiscriminating; heedless; reckless. 8. Enveloped in darkness; dark, dim, obscure. 9. Dense enough to form a screen. 10. Covered or concealed from sight; hidden from immediate view. 11. Having no openings or passages for light; (a window or door) walled up. blindest, half-blind. v. 12. To deprive of sight permanently or temporarily. 13. To make sightless momentarily; dazzle. blinded.* n. 14. A blind person, esp. as pl., those who are blind. 15. Fig.* Any thing or action intended to conceal one"s real intention; a pretence, a pretext; subterfuge.
blithe ::: joyous, merry, or gay in disposition; glad; cheerful.
blow ::: 1. A sudden, hard stroke with a hand, fist, or weapon; a stroke. 2. A sudden attack or drastic action. 3. Fig. A sudden shock, calamity, severe disaster experienced by someone. blows.
blur ::: a smudge or smear that partially obscures; indistinctness.
body ::: 1. The entire material or physical structure of an organism, especially of a human or animal as differentiated from the soul. 2. The entire physical structure of a human being. 3. A mass of matter that is distinct from other masses. 4. Substance. 5. An agent or entity. 6. The mass of a thing. 7. A mass of matter that is distinct from other masses. 8. The largest or main part of anything; the foundation; central part. body"s, bodies.
bold ::: 1. Fearless and daring; courageous. 2. Clear and distinct to the eye.
bouge ::: fr. A hovel, dive, slum, or disreputable place.
breaks up. ::: 1. Breaks into many parts; divides or become divided into pieces. 2. Dissolves, disbands, puts an end to, gives up; breaks up a house, household, etc.
break ::: v. 1. To destroy by or as if by shattering or crushing. 2. To force or make a way through (a barrier, etc.). 3. To vary or disrupt the uniformity or continuity of. 4. To overcome or put an end to. 5. To destroy or interrupt a regularity, uniformity, continuity, or arrangement of; interrupt. 6. To intrude upon; interrupt a conversation, etc. 7. To discontinue or sever an association, an agreement, or a relationship. **8. To overcome or wear down the spirit, strength, or resistance of. 9. (usually followed by in, into or out). 10. To filter or penetrate as sunlight into a room. 11. To come forth suddenly. 12. To utter suddenly; to express or start to express an emotion, mood, etc. 13. Said of waves, etc. when they dash against an obstacle, or topple over and become surf or broken water in the shallows. 14. To part the surface of water, as a ship or a jumping fish. breaks, broke, broken, breaking.* *n. 15.** An interruption or a disruption in continuity or regularity.
bright ::: 1. Emitting or reflecting light readily or in large amounts; shining; radiant. 2. Magnificent; glorious. 3. Favourable or auspicious. 4. Fig. Characterized by happiness or gladness; full of promise and hope. 5. Distinct and clear to the mind, etc. 6. Intensely clear and vibrant in tone or quality. 7. Polished; glistening as with brilliant color. brighter, brightest, bright-hued, bright-pinioned, flame-bright, moon-bright, pearl-bright, sun-bright.
brilliant ::: 1. Full of light; shining; lustrous. 2. Of surpassing excellence; splendid; highly impressive; distinguished. 3. Strong and clear in tone; vivid; bright. pale-brilliant.
brittle ::: easily damaged or disrupted; fragile.
broken ::: 1. Forcibly separated into two or more pieces; fractured. 2. Crushed in spirit or temper; discouraged; overcome. 3. Incomplete. 4. Interrupted disturbed; disconnected. 5. Torn; ruptured. (Also pp. of break.)
burdensome ::: 1. Oppressively heavy; onerous. 2. Distressing, troublesome.
"But in the path of knowledge as it is practised in India concentration is used in a special and more limited sense. It means that removal of the thought from all distracting activities of the mind and that concentration of it on the idea of the One by which the soul rises out of the phenomenal into the one reality.” The Synthesis of Yoga*
"But man also has a life-mind, a vital mentality which is an instrument of desire: this is not satisfied with the actual, it is a dealer in possibilities; it has the passion for novelty and is seeking always to extend the limits of experience for the satisfaction of desire, for enjoyment, for an enlarged self-affirmation and aggrandisement of its terrain of power and profit. It desires, enjoys, possesses actualities, but it hunts also after unrealised possibilities, is ardent to materialise them, to possess and enjoy them also. It is not satisfied with the physical and objective only, but seeks too a subjective, an imaginative, a purely emotive satisfaction and pleasure.” *The Life Divine
calamitous ::: disastrous; catastrophic, ruinous; devastating.
calamity ::: 1. An event that brings terrible loss, lasting distress, or severe affliction; a disaster. 2. Dire distress resulting from loss or tragedy. calamities.
call ::: Sri Aurobindo: "All Yoga is in its nature a new birth; it is a birth out of the ordinary, the mentalised material life of man into a higher spiritual consciousness and a greater and diviner being. No Yoga can be successfully undertaken and followed unless there is a strong awakening to the necessity of that larger spiritual existence. The soul that is called to this deep and vast inward change, may arrive in different ways to the initial departure. It may come to it by its own natural development which has been leading it unconsciously towards the awakening; it may reach it through the influence of a religion or the attraction of a philosophy; it may approach it by a slow illumination or leap to it by a sudden touch or shock; it may be pushed or led to it by the pressure of outward circumstances or by an inward necessity, by a single word that breaks the seals of the mind or by long reflection, by the distant example of one who has trod the path or by contact and daily influence. According to the nature and the circumstances the call will come.” *The Synthesis of Yoga
calm ::: n. 1. Serenity; tranquillity; peace. 2. Nearly or completely motionless as a condition of no wind. Calm, Calm"s, calms, calmness. adj. 3. Not excited or agitated; composed; tranquil; 4. Without rough motion; still or nearly still. calmer, calm-lipped, stone-calm. *adv. calmly.
Sri Aurobindo: "Calm is a still unmoved condition which no disturbance can affect — it is a less negative condition than quiet.” Letters on Yoga*
"Calm is a positive tranquillity which can exist in spite of superficial disturbances.” *Letters on Yoga
"Calm is a strong and positive quietude, firm and solid — ordinary quietude is mere negation, simply the absence of disturbance.” *Letters on Yoga
"But more powerful still is the giving up of the fruit of one"s works, because that immediately destroys all causes of disturbance and brings and preserves automatically an inner calm and peace, and calm and peace are the foundation on which all else becomes perfect and secure in possession by the tranquil spirit.” Essays on the Gita
The Mother: "Calm is self-possessed strength, quiet and conscious energy, mastery of the impulses, control over the unconscious reflexes.” Words of the Mother, MCW Vol. 14*.
caricature ::: a grotesque imitation, misrepresentation or distorted image, as a drawing or description of a person which exaggerates characteristic features for comic effect.
castaway ::: a shipwrecked person. Also fig. a rejected or discarded person or thing.
cast off ::: discard; thrown away; let go.
cease ::: v. 1. To come to an end; stop. 2. To put an end to a condition or state of being; discontinue. 3. To come to an end; pass away; no longer exist. ceases, ceased* *n. 4.** Cessation.
cessation ::: a ceasing or stopping; discontinuance; pause. cessations.
chaos ::: 1. The infinity of space or formless matter supposed to have preceded the existence of the ordered universe. 2. A condition, place, or state of great disorder or confusion. 3. A disorderly mass; a jumble. Chaos.
characters ::: 1. The combination of qualities, features and traits that distinguishes one person, group, or thing from another. 2. The marks or symbols used in writing systems such as the letters of the alphabet.
charts ::: visual displays of information, as maps, graphs, tables, or sheets of information in the form of a diagram delineating a particular subject.
chastise ::: 1. To discipline or punish, esp. by beating. *v. *2. Purify; refine.
chastisement ::: verbal (often physical) punishment; discipline.
cheat ::: v. 1. To deceive by trickery; swindle. 2. To mislead; fool. n. **3.** A fraud or swindle; a dishonest trick.
chides ::: expresses disapproval of; scolds; reproaches. chiding.
childish ::: 1. Of, like, or befitting a child. 2. Marked by or indicating a lack of maturity; puerile.
child ::: 1. A person between birth and full growth. 2. A baby or infant. 3. A person who has not attained maturity. 4. One who is childish or immature. 5. An individual regarded as strongly affected by another or by a specified time, place, or circumstance. 6. Any person or thing regarded as the product or result of particular agencies, influences, etc. Child, child"s, children, Children, children"s, child-god, Child-Godhead, child-heart, child-heart"s, child-laughter, child-soul, child-sovereign, child-thought, flame-child, foster-child, God-child, King-children.
chill ::: adj. 1. Cold, often unpleasantly so; numbing. 2. Discouraging; dispiriting. 3. Unduly formal; unfriendly; unfeeling. v. 4. To lower in temperature; cool; make cold. 5. Fig. To depress (enthusiasm, etc.); discourage. chilled, chilling.
chrysoprase ::: a brittle, translucent, semiprecious chalcedony (q.v.), a variety of the silica mineral quartz. It owes its bright apple-green colour to colloidally dispersed hydrated nickel silicate. Valued in ancient times as it shone in the dark.
clarity ::: 1. Clearness or lucidity as to perception or understanding; freedom from indistinctness or ambiguity. 2. The state or quality of being clear or transparent to the eye; pellucidity; brightness, splendour.
clatter ::: 1. A rattling noise or a series of rattling noises. 2. Noisy disturbance; din; racket.
clause ::: a distinct article, stipulation, or provision, in a document.
clear ::: 1. Not obscured or darkened; bright. 2. Free from darkness, obscurity, or cloudiness; transparent. 3. Serene; calm; untroubled. 4. Free from doubt or confusion; certain. 5. Easily perceptible to the eye or ear; distinct. 6. Easily understood; without ambiguity. 7. Free from impediment, obstruction, or hindrance; open. clearer, sun-clear, surface-clear.
cloak ::: 1. A loose outer garment, such as a cape. 2. Anything that covers or conceals. 3. Something that covers or conceals; a disguise. world-cloak.
cloud ::: 1. A visible collection of particles of water or ice suspended in the air, usually at an elevation above the earth"s surface. 2. Any similar mass, esp. of smoke or dust. 3. Something fleeting or unsubstantial. 4. Anything that obscures or darkens something, or causes gloom, trouble, suspicion, disgrace, etc. clouds, clouds", cloud-veils.
cloying ::: causing or tending to cause disgust or aversion through excess.
coilas ::: (Most often spelled Kailas.) "One of the highest and most rugged mountains of the Himalayan range, located in the southwestern part of China. It is an important holy site both to the Hindus, who identify it with the paradise of Shiva and also regard it as the abode of Kubera, and to the Tibetan Buddhists, who identify it with Mount Sumeru, cosmic centre of the universe.” Glossary and Index of Proper Names in Sri Aurobindo"s Works
colony ::: a group of emigrants or their descendants who settle in a distant territory but remain subject to or closely associated with the parent country. colonies.
columns ::: long, narrow formations of troops in which there are more members in line in the direction of movement than at right angles to the direction.—(distinguished from line).
coma ::: a state of deep, often prolonged unconsciousness, usually the result of injury, disease, or poison, in which an individual is incapable of sensing or responding to external stimuli and internal needs.
combatant ::: a person engaged in or prepared for a fight, struggle, or dispute. combatants.
command ::: n. 1. An order; mandate. 2. The possession or exercise of controlling authority. Command. v. 3. To direct with specific authority or prerogative; order. 4. To give orders. 5. To have or exercise authority or control over; be master of; have at one"s bidding or disposal. commands, commanded.
common ::: 1. Belonging equally to or shared alike by two or more. 2. Of or relating to the community or humanity as a whole. 3. Belonging equally to or shared equally by two or more; joint. 4. Not distinguished by superior or noteworthy characteristics; average; ordinary. 5. Occurring frequently or habitually; usual. commonest.
commonalty ::: not distinguished by superior or noteworthy characteristics; average; ordinary.
commonness ::: the quality of being commonplace and ordinary; undistinguished.
complained ::: expressed feelings of pain, dissatisfaction, or resentment. complaining.
complaint ::: an expression of pain, dissatisfaction, discontent or resentment.
concealed ::: kept from being seen, found, observed, or discovered; hidden. conceals, concealing, all-concealing, deep-concealed.
conditions ::: circumstances that are indispensable to the appearance or occurrence of another; prerequisites.
confidante ::: a woman to whom secrets are confided or with whom private matters and problems are discussed.
confine ::: 1. To enclose within bounds, limit, restrict. 2. To shut or keep in; prevent from leaving a place because of imprisonment, illness, discipline, etc. confined.
conflicting ::: in disagreement or opposition.
confused ::: 1. Lacking logical order or sense. 2. *adj. Disordered and difficult to understand or make sense of. *3. Chaotic; jumbled.
*consciousforce. ::: Sri Aurobindo: "In actual fact Mind measures Time by event and Space by Matter; but it is possible in pure mentality to disregard the movement of event and the disposition of substance and realise the pure movement of Conscious-Force which constitutes Space and Time; these two are then merely two aspects of the universal force of Consciousness which in their intertwined interaction comprehend the warp and woof of its action upon itself. And to a consciousness higher than Mind which should regard our past, present and future in one view, containing and not contained in them, not situated at a particular moment of Time for its point of prospection, Time might well offer itself as an eternal present. And to the same consciousness not situated at any particular point of Space, but containing all points and regions in itself, Space also might well offer itself as a subjective and indivisible extension, — no less subjective than Time.” The Life Divine
consisting of small, disconnected parts.
contemning ::: treating or regarding with disdain, scorn, or contempt.
contest ::: to try to disprove; call in question.
contradiction ::: 1. The act of going against; opposition; denial. 2. Inconsistency; discrepancy. contradictions.
contrariety ::: an instance of such opposition; discordance; inconsistency; discrepancy.
contrast ::: a difference, especially a strong dissimilarity, between entities or objects compared.
coral ::: a reddish yellow; light yellowish red; pinkish yellow.
cosmic mind ::: Sri Aurobindo: "Nevertheless, the fact of this intervention from above, the fact that behind all our original thinking or authentic perception of things there is a veiled, a half-veiled or a swift unveiled intuitive element is enough to establish a connection between mind and what is above it; it opens a passage of communication and of entry into the superior spirit-ranges. There is also the reaching out of mind to exceed the personal ego limitation, to see things in a certain impersonality and universality. Impersonality is the first character of cosmic self; universality, non-limitation by the single or limiting point of view, is the character of cosmic perception and knowledge: this tendency is therefore a widening, however rudimentary, of these restricted mind areas towards cosmicity, towards a quality which is the very character of the higher mental planes, — towards that superconscient cosmic Mind which, we have suggested, must in the nature of things be the original mind-action of which ours is only a derivative and inferior process.” *The Life Divine
"If we accept the Vedic image of the Sun of Truth, . . . we may compare the action of the Higher Mind to a composed and steady sunshine, the energy of the Illumined Mind beyond it to an outpouring of massive lightnings of flaming sun-stuff. Still beyond can be met a yet greater power of the Truth-Force, an intimate and exact Truth-vision, Truth-thought, Truth-sense, Truth-feeling, Truth-action, to which we can give in a special sense the name of Intuition; . . . At the source of this Intuition we discover a superconscient cosmic Mind in direct contact with the supramental Truth-Consciousness, an original intensity determinant of all movements below it and all mental energies, — not Mind as we know it, but an Overmind that covers as with the wide wings of some creative Oversoul this whole lower hemisphere of Knowledge-Ignorance, links it with that greater Truth-Consciousness while yet at the same time with its brilliant golden Lid it veils the face of the greater Truth from our sight, intervening with its flood of infinite possibilities as at once an obstacle and a passage in our seeking of the spiritual law of our existence, its highest aim, its secret Reality.” The Life Divine
"There is one cosmic Mind, one cosmic Life, one cosmic Body. All the attempt of man to arrive at universal sympathy, universal love and the understanding and knowledge of the inner soul of other existences is an attempt to beat thin, breach and eventually break down by the power of the enlarging mind and heart the walls of the ego and arrive nearer to a cosmic oneness.” *The Synthesis of Yoga
"[The results of the opening to the cosmic Mind:] One is aware of the cosmic Mind and the mental forces that move there and how they work on one"s mind and that of others and one is able to deal with one"s own mind with a greater knowledge and effective power. There are many other results, but this is the fundamental one.” Letters on Yoga
"The cosmic consciousness has many levels — the cosmic physical, the cosmic vital, the cosmic Mind, and above the higher planes of cosmic Mind there is the Intuition and above that the overmind and still above that the supermind where the Transcendental begins. In order to live in the Intuition plane (not merely to receive intuitions), one has to live in the cosmic consciousness because there the cosmic and individual run into each other as it were, and the mental separation between them is already broken down, so nobody can reach there who is still in the separative ego.” Letters on Yoga*
counters ::: anything used in keeping account, as a disk of metal or wood, used in some games, as checkers, for marking a player"s position or for keeping score.
covering ::: n. **1. Anything that veils, screens, disguises or shuts from sight. 2. Something that covers or is laid, placed, or spread over or upon something else. v. 3. Protecting or shielding from harm, loss, or danger. coverings.**
cover ::: n. 1. Fig. Something, such as darkness, that screens, conceals, or disguises. v. 2. To spread over a surface to protect or conceal or warm something. 3. To hide from view or knowledge; conceal. covers, covered, covering.
credulous ::: disposed to believe too readily, esp. without proper or adequate evidence; gullible.
crooked ::: 1. Bent, angled or winding; deformed or contorted. 2. Dishonest or unscrupulous; fraudulent; perverse.
crown ::: n. **1. An ornament worn on the head by kings and those having sovereign power, often made of precious metal and ornamented with gems. 2. A wreath or garland for the head, awarded as a sign of victory, success, honour, etc. 3. The distinction that comes from a great achievement; reward, honour. 4. The top or summit of something, esp. of a rounded object. etc. 5. The highest or more nearly perfect state of anything. 6. An exalting or chief attribute. 7. The acme or supreme source of honour, excellence, beauty, etc. v. 8. To put a crown on the head of, symbolically vesting with royal title, powers, etc. 9. To place something on or over the head or top of. crowns, crowned.**
crucified ::: 1. Afflicted with severe pain or distress; tormented. 2. In reference to being put to death by nailing or otherwise fastening to a cross.
crumble ::: 1. To fall into small pieces; break or part into small fragments. 2. To decay or disintegrate gradually. crumbles, crumbling.
cult ::: 1. Obsessive, especially faddish, devotion to or veneration for a person, principle, or thing. 2. A specific system of religious worship, esp. with reference to its rites and deity. 3. A group or sect bound together by veneration of the same thing, person, ideal. cults.
cunning ::: 1. Skill or adeptness in execution or performance; dexterity. 2. Artfully subtle or shrewd. 3. Cunning implies a shrewd, often instinctive skill in concealing or disguising the real purposes of one"s actions. cunningly.
cure ::: n. 1. A means of correcting or relieving anything that is troublesome or detrimental. v. 2. To remove or remedy (something harmful or disturbing). curing.
customs-line ::: an area (or line) where a governmental agency checks baggage or merchandise for contraband and goods subject to duty.
cynic ::: 1. A person who believes all people are motivated by selfishness and whose outlook is scornfully and often habitually negative. 2. *adj. *Bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous, or pessimistic.
dark ::: adj. 1. Lacking or having very little light. 2. Concealed or secret; mysterious. 3. Difficult to understand; obscure. 4. Characterized by gloom; dismal. 5. Fig. Sinister; evil; absent moral or spiritual values. 6. (used of color) Having a dark hue; almost black. 7. Showing a brooding ill humor. 8. Having a complexion that is not fair; swarthy. darker, darkest, dark-browed, dark-robed.* n. 9. Absence of light; dark state or condition; darkness, esp. that of night. 10. A dark place: a place of darkness. 11. The condition of being hidden from view, obscure, or unknown; obscurity. *in the dark: in concealment or secrecy.
"Death has no reality except as a process of life. Disintegration of substance and renewal of substance, maintenance of form and change of form are the constant process of life; death is merely a rapid disintegration subservient to life"s necessity of change and variation of formal experience. Even in the death of the body there is no cessation of Life, only the material of one form of life is broken up to serve as material for other forms of life.” The Life Divine
debate ::: 1. A discussion involving opposing points; an argument. 2. A formal contest in which the affirmative and negative sides of a proposition are advocated by opposing speakers.
deceit ::: the act or practice of deceiving; concealment or distortion of the truth for the purpose of misleading; duplicity; fraud; cheating.
deciding ::: that settles a question or dispute or leads to a final decision; determining; decisive.
defaced ::: marred or spoiled the appearance, beauty or surface of; disfigured.
deformity ::: the quality or state of being deformed, disfigured, or misshapen.
deform ::: to spoil the natural form of; misshape; to spoil the beauty or appearance of; disfigure. deformed, deforming.
delicate ::: 1. Distinguishing subtle differences. 2. Of instruments: precise, skilled, or sensitive in action or operation. 3. Marked by sensitivity of discrimination and skillful in expression, technique, etc. 4. Exquisitely or beautifully fine in texture, construction, or finish. 5. Exquisite, fine, or subtle in quality, character, construction, etc. 6. (of colour, tone, taste, etc.) Pleasantly subtle, soft, or faint.
delirium ::: 1. A more or less temporary disorder of the mental faculties, as in fevers, disturbances of consciousness, or intoxication, characterised by restlessness, excitement, delusions, hallucinations, etc. 2. A state of violent excitement or emotion.
deliver ::: 1. To give into another"s possession or keeping; surrender. 2. To set free or liberate; emancipate, release. 3. To rescue or save. 4. To assist (a female) in bringing forth young. 5. To disburden (oneself) of thoughts, opinions, etc. delivered, delivering, deliverers.
demoniac ::: v. 1. Possessed, produced, or influenced by a demon. 2. Of, resembling, or suggestive of a devil; fiendish. n. 3. One who is or seems to be possessed by a demon.
denial ::: 1. A refusal to accept or believe something, such as a doctrine or belief. 2. A refusal to grant the truth of a statement or allegation; a contradiction; a disavowal. denial"s, denials.
deny ::: 1. To refuse to recognize or acknowledge; disavow. 2. To declare untrue; contradict. 3. To refuse to fulfil the requests or expectations; refuse to give. 4. To give a refusal to; turn down or away. 5. To withhold the possession, user, or enjoyment of. denies, denied, denying.
deprived ::: divested, stripped, bereaved, dispossessed of (or from) a possession.
depth ::: 1. The quality of a state of consciousness. 2. Beyond one"s knowledge or capability. 3. Emotional intensity, profundity. 4. The quality of being deep; deepness. 5. Complexity or profundity. 6. The extent, measurement, or distance downwards, backwards, or inwards. depths, depths", spirit-depths, wave-depths.
descry ::: 1. To see (something unclear or distant) by looking carefully; discern. 2. To discover, perceive, detect. descried.
"Desire is the root of all sorrow, disappointment, affliction, for though it has a feverish joy of pursuit and satisfaction, yet because it is always a straining of the being, it carries into its pursuit and its getting a labour, hunger, struggle, a rapid subjection to fatigue, a sense of limitation, dissatisfaction and early disappointment with all its gains, a ceaseless morbid stimulation, trouble, disquiet, asânti. ” The Synthesis of Yoga
desolate ::: 1. Uninhabited, laid waste, deserted, without any sign of life, barren. 2. Devoid of inhabitants; deserted. 3. Bereft of friends or hope; sad and forlorn. 4. Wretched or forlorn. 5. Dreary, dismal, gloomy. desolately.
despised ::: regarded with contempt, distaste, disgust, or disdain; scorned; loathed.
destroy ::: 1. To reduce anything to useless fragments, a useless form, or remains, as by rending, burning, or dissolving; injuring beyond repair or renewal; demolish; ruin; annihilate. 2. To subdue or defeat completely; crush. 3. To slay, to kill. destroys, destroyed, destroying, world-destroying.
detached ::: 1. Impartial or objective; disinterested; unbiased. 2. Not involved or concerned; aloof. ::: Sri Aurobindo: "Detachment means that one stands back from [imperfections and weakness of the nature, etc.] , does not identify oneself with them or get upset or troubled because they are there, but rather looks on them as something foreign to one"s true consciousness and true self, rejects them and calls in the Mother"s Force into these movements to eliminate them and bring the true consciousness and its movements there.” Letters on Yoga
detect ::: to discover or ascertain the existence, presence, or fact of. detected.
difference ::: 1. The quality or condition of being unlike or dissimilar. 2. An instance of disparity or unlikeness. differences.
different ::: 1. Not alike in character or quality; differing; dissimilar. 2. Not identical; separate or distinct.
differ ::: to be of a different opinion; disagree.
dim ::: 1. Obscure to the mind or the senses. 2. Not clearly seen; indistinct; faint. 3. Having weak or indistinct vision. 4. Faintly outlined; indistinct. 5. Lacking in brightness. v. 1. To cause to seem less bright, as by comparison. 2. Make dim or lusterless. dimly, dim-eyed, dim-heart, dim-hearted, dim-masked, dim-souled.
dimmed ::: v.**1. Made or became dim; lost brightness. Also fig. adj. 2. Not brilliant; dull in lustre. 3.** Dulled; indistinct; not seen clearly or in detail as of sight or vision.
dimming ::: making or becoming dim, lacking sharpness or brightness; indistinct; obscure to the mind or the senses.
din ::: a jumble of loud, usually discordant sounds.
dingy ::: 1. Of a dark, dull, or dirty colour or aspect; lacking brightness or freshness. 2. Shabby; dismal.
dire ::: 1. Causing or involving great fear or suffering; dreadful; terrible. 2. Indicating trouble, disaster, misfortune, or the like. 3. Urgent; desperate. direr.
divided ::: 1. Separated; separate. 2. Disunited. 3. Being in a state of disagreement or disunity.
divorced ::: 1. Separated; cut off; as a complete or radical severance of closely connected things. 2. Dissolved the marriage bond between.
dole ::: grief, sorrow, mental distress.
doubt ::: n. 1. Lack of belief in or conviction about something. v. 2. To be undecided or skeptical about: tend to disbelieve or distrust. doubts, doubting, doubtful, doubtfully, doubtfulness.
draw ::: 1. To cause to move in a given direction or to a given position, as by leading. 2. To bring towards oneself or itself, as by inherent force or influence; attract. 3. To cause to come by attracting; attract. 4. To cause to move in a particular direction by or as by a pulling force; pull; drag. 5. To get, take or obtain as from a source; to derive. 6. To bring, take, or pull out, as from a receptacle or source. 7. To draw a (or the) line (fig.) to determine or define the limit between two things or groups; in modern colloquial use (esp. with at), to lay down a definite limit of action beyond which one refuses to go. 8. To make, sketch (a picture or representation of someone or something) in lines or words; to design, trace out, delineate; depict; also, to mould, model. 9. To mark or lay out; trace. 10. To compose or write out in legal format. 11. To write out (a bill of exchange or promissory note). 12. To disembowel. 13. To move or pull so as to cover or uncover something. 14. To suck or take in (air, for example); inhale. 15. To extend, lengthen, prolong, protract. 16. To cause to move after or toward one by applying continuous force; drag. draws, drew, drawn, drawing, wide-drawn.
dread ::: n. **1. Profound fear; terror. 2. An object of fear, awe, or reverence. v. 3. To be in fear or terror of. 4. To anticipate with alarm, distaste, or reluctance. adj. 5. Fearful terrible; causing terror. 6. Held in awe or reverential fear. Dread, dreads, dreaded.**
drear ::: sad, doleful, sorrowful; dismal, gloomy.
drift ::: n. 1. A driving movement or force; impulse; impetus; pressure. 2. A gradual deviation from an original course, model, method, or intention. 3. Tendency, trend, meaning, or purport. 4. A bank or pile, as of sand or snow, heaped up by currents of air or water. 5. Something moving along in a current of air or water. 6. Any group of stars having a random distribution of velocities; usually applied to a group of stars with an apparent systematic motion towards some point in the sky. v. 7. To be carried along by or as if by currents of air or water. 8. To move leisurely or sporadically from place to place, especially without purpose. drifts, drifted, drifting, sleet-drift, slow-drifting.
eclipse ::: n. **1. A temporary or permanent dimming or cutting off of light. 2. A fall into obscurity or disuse; a decline. v. 3. To obscure; darken. eclipsed, eclipsing.**
eden ::: any delightful region or abode; paradise. Edens.
ego ::: the "I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing, and distinguishing itself from the selves of others and from objects of its thought. **ego, ego"s, egos, egoless, world-egos.
elevation ::: a drawing of a building or other object made in projection on a vertical plane, as distinguished from a ground plan.
embroiled ::: thrown into disorder; entangled.
emotion ::: 1. An affective state of consciousness in which joy, sorrow, fear, hate, or the like, is experienced, as distinguished from cognitive or volitional states of consciousness. Also abstract ‘feeling" as distinguished from the other classes of mental phenomena. 2. A state of mental agitation or disturbance. **emotion"s, emotions.
"Emptiness is not in itself a bad condition, only if it is a sad and restless emptiness of the dissatisfied vital. In sadhana emptiness is very usually a necessary transition from one state to another. When mind and vital fall quiet and their restless movements, thoughts and desires cease, then one feels empty. This is at first often a neutral emptiness with nothing in it, nothing in it either good or bad, happy or unhappy, no impulse or movement. This neutral state is often or even usually followed by the opening to inner experience. There is also an emptiness made of peace and silence, when the peace and silence come out from the psychic within or descend from the higher consciousness above. This is not neutral, for in it there is the sense of peace, often also of wideness and freedom. There is also a happy emptiness with the sense of something close or drawing near which is not yet there, e.g. the closeness of the Mother or some other preparing experience.” Letters on Yoga*
engender ::: 1. To give rise to, produce, cause (a state of things, a disease, force, quality, feeling, etc.). 2. To beget; procreate. engenders, engendered, engendering.
ennui ::: a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom.
ensnare ::: 1. To catch or trap in a snare. 2. To trap or gain power over someone by dishonest or underhand means.
entity ::: something having real or distinct existence. **Entity, entities.
envy ::: a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another"s advantages, success, possessions, etc.; longing to possess something awarded to or achieved by another.
equal ::: adj. 1. As great as; the same as (often followed by to or with). 2. Having the same quantity, value, or measure as another. 3. Evenly proportioned or balanced. 4. Tranquil; equable; undisturbed. 5. Impartial; just; equitable. n. 6. One who is equal to another in any specified quality. v. **7. To become equal or level with. equalled.**
". . . equality is the sign of unity with the Brahman, of becoming Brahman, of growing into an undisturbed spiritual poise of being in the Infinite. Its importance can hardly be exaggerated; for it is the sign of our having passed beyond the egoistic determinations of our nature, of our having conquered our enslaved response to the dualities, of our having transcended the shifting turmoil of the gunas, of our having entered into the calm and peace of liberation. Equality is a term of consciousness which brings into the whole of our being and nature the eternal tranquillity of the Infinite.” The Synthesis of Yoga*
::: Equality means a quiet and unmoved mind and vital, it means not to be touched or disturbed by things that happen or things said or done to you, but to look at them with a straight look, free from the distortions created by personal feeling, and to try to understand what is behind them, why they happen, what is to be learnt from them, what is it in oneself which they are cast against and what inner profit or progress one can make out of them; it means self-mastery over the vital movements, — anger and sensitiveness and pride as well as desire and the rest, — not to let them get hold of the emotional being and disturb the inner peace, not to speak and act in the rush and impulsion of these things, always to act and speak out of a calm inner poise of the spirit.” *Letters on Yoga
equipoise ::: equality in distribution, as of weight, relationship, or emotional forces; equilibrium.
estranged ::: kept at a distance; withdrawn; withheld; displaying or evincing a feeling of alienation.
". . . evil is the fruit of a spiritual ignorance and it will disappear only by the growth of a spiritual consciousness and the light of spiritual knowledge.” The Life Divine
evil ::: n. 1. Morally bad or wrong; wicked, sinful, as opposed to good. 2. Anything causing injury or harm. Evil, evil"s, Evil"s. adj. 3. Characterized by or indicating future misfortune; ominous; disastrous. 4. Harmful; injurious. 5. Boding ill.
exercised ::: discharged, performed, fulfilled (functions).
expenditure ::: the act of expending something, especially funds; disbursement; consumption.
experiment ::: n. **1. A test, trial, or tentative procedure; an act or operation for the purpose of discovering something unknown or of testing a principle, supposition, etc. v. 2.* To try something new, especially in order to gain experience. experiments. adj.* experimenting.
explore ::: 1. To examine or investigate, esp. systematically. 2. To search into or travel in for the purpose of discovery. explores, exploring.
extended far or over a great distance.
extent ::: the range, magnitude, or distance over which a thing extends.
exude ::: to project or display conspicuously or abundantly; radiate.
**"Faith in the heart is the obscure & often distorted reflection of a hidden knowledge.” Essays Divine and Human
fear ::: n. 1. A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. v. 2. To regard with fear; be afraid of. 3. To have reverential awe of.** fear"s, fears, feared, fearing, fear-filled.
featureless ::: without distinctive features; uninteresting, plain, or drab.
feeble ::: 1. Lacking in volume, loudness, brightness, distinctness, etc. 2. Lacking in force, strength or effectiveness.
fig. Hearts filled with despair; disillusionment; devastating sorrow, especially from disappointment or tragedy in love.
files ::: a line of persons or things placed one behind another (distinguished from ‘rank").
flame ::: n. 1. Burning gas or vapor, as from wood or coal, that is undergoing combustion; a portion of ignited gas or vapor. 2. Fig. A brilliant light; fiery glow. 3. Fig. Intense ardour, zeal, passion, vitality. 4. Spiritual fire. 5. Inner fire. 6. Bright colouring; a streak or patch of color. Flame, flames, flame-ascensions, flame-born, flame-bright, flame-child, flame-discovery, flame-edge, flame-eyed, flame-foot, flame-hills, flame-pure, flame-signs, flame-stabs, flame-throw, flame-white, flame-wrapped, moon-flame. v. 8. To burn with a flame or flames; burst into flames; blaze. 7. To burn or glow as if with fire; become red or fiery 8. To burn or burst forth with strong emotion. flames, flamed. ::: flames out. Bursts out in or as if in flames.
flaming ::: adj. 1. Emitting flames; blazing; burning; fiery. 2. Glowing brightly; brilliant. 3. Intensely ardent or passionate. 4. Resembling a flame in brilliance, color, or form. 5. Like a flame in brilliance, heat or shape. 6. Very intense, ardent; fiery, as a disposition. flaming-silent.* n. 7. The action of burning or being on fire. Also fig. *flamings.
flawless ::: having no discernible blemishes or shortcomings; perfect.
"For if evolution is the progressive manifestation by Nature of that which slept or worked in her, involved, it is also the overt realisation of that which she secretly is. We cannot, then, bid her the right to condemn with the religionist as perverse and presumptuous or with the rationalist as a disease or hallucination any intention she may evince or effort she may make to go beyond. If it be true that Spirit is involved in Matter and apparent Nature is secret God, then the manifestation of the divine in himself and the realisation of God within and without are the highest and most legitimate aim possible to man upon earth.” The Life Divine
"For it is only the few who can make the past Teacher and his teaching, the past Incarnation and his example and influence a living force in their lives. For this need also the Hindu discipline provides in the relation of the Guru and the disciple. The Guru may sometimes be the Incarnation or World-Teacher; but it is sufficient that he should represent to the disciple the divine wisdom, convey to him something of the divine ideal or make him feel the realised relation of the human soul with the Eternal.” The Synthesis of Yoga*
formidable ::: 1. Arousing fear, dread, or alarm. 2. Of discouraging or awesome strength, size, difficulty, etc.; intimidating. 3. Arousing feelings of awe or admiration because of grandeur, strength, etc. 4. Of great strength; forceful; powerful.
" . . . for there is only one thing essential, needful, indispensable, to grow conscious of the Divine Reality and live in it and live it always.” Letters on Yoga
fortune ::: chance personified, commonly regarded as a mythical being distributing arbitrarily or capriciously the lots of life. Fortune.
frank ::: direct; ingenuous, open, sincere; undisguised; straightforward. frankness.
frescoed ::: painted on fresh moist plaster with pigments dissolved in water. many-frescoed.
fretful ::: regretful; discontented; vexed; worried; tormented.
frown ::: any expression or show of disapproval.
frustration (‘s) ::: a feeling of dissatisfaction resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems.
gap ::: 1. A break or opening; breach. 2. An unfilled space or interval; a blank or deficiency; a break in continuity. 3. A wide divergence; disparity. gaps.
glean ::: 1. To gather laboriously, bit by bit. 2. To gather (grain or the like) after the reapers or regular gathers. 3. To learn, discover, of find out, usually little by little or slowly. gleaner.
glory ::: n. 1. Majestic and radiant beauty and splendour; resplendence. 2. Great honour, praise, or distinction accorded by common consent; renown. 3. A state of extreme happiness or exaltation. 4. A state of absolute happiness; gratification. Glory, glory"s, glories, self-glory. v. 5. Rejoice proudly (usually followed by in). glories, gloried, glorying.
gong ::: a large bronze disk of Asian origin, having an upturned rim that produces a vibrant, hollow tone when struck, usually with a soft mallet.
grace ::: Sri Aurobindo: "Grace is something spontaneous which wells out from the Divine Consciousness as a free flow of its being. ::: It is a power that is superior to any rule, even to the Cosmic Law — for all spiritual seers have distinguished between the Law and Grace. Yet it is not indiscriminate — only it has a discrimination of its own which sees things and persons and the right times and seasons with another vision than that of the Mind or any other normal Power. A state of Grace is prepared in the individual often behind thick veils by means not calculable by the mind and when the state of Grace comes, then the Grace itself acts. ” *Letters on Yoga
grey ::: 1. A neutral tone, intermediate between black and white, that has no hue and reflects and transmits only a little light. 2.* Fig. Dismal or dark, esp. from lack of light; gloomy. 3. Dull, dreary or monotonous. 4. Used often in reference to twilight or a gloomy or an overcast day. greyer, grey-eyed, grey-hued, silver-grey. n. *greyness.
grief ::: 1. Deep or intense sorrow or distress, esp. at the death of someone. 2. Something that causes great unhappiness. grief"s, griefs, griefless.
grimacing ::: making a sharp contortion of the face expressive of pain, contempt, or disgust.
grotesques ::: characterized by ludicrous or incongruous distortion, as of appearance or manner; bizarre; outlandish.
grudging ::: displaying or reflecting unwillingness, reluctance; resentfulness, envy.
guard ::: n. 1. Something that gives protection; a safeguard. 2. A body of people, esp. soldiers, charged with guarding a place from disturbance, theft, etc. guards. v. 3. To keep safe from harm or danger; to take care of, watch over, protect, defend. 4. To protect from harm by or as if by watching over. guards, guarded, guarding, deep-guarded, self-guarded. ::: on guard. Vigilant; watchful.
habit ::: 1. A recurrent, often unconscious pattern of behaviour that is acquired through frequent repetition. 2. A dominant or regular disposition or tendency; prevailing character or quality. habit"s, habits, earth-habit"s, Nature-habit"s.
half-way ::: adv. 1. At or to half the distance; at or to the middle. adj. **2.** Midway between two points or conditions.
hallucination ::: 1. A sensory experience of something that does not exist outside the mind, caused by various physical and mental disorders. 2. A false notion, belief, or impression; illusion; delusion.
halo ::: a geometric shape, usually in the form of a disk, circle, ring or rayed structure, traditionally representing a radiant light around or above the head of a divine or sacred personage. haloed.
harassed ::: disturbed persistently; tormented, as with troubles or cares; bothered continually; pestered; persecuted.
harbour ::: n. 1. A sheltered port where ships can take on or discharge cargo. 2. Any place of shelter or refuge. v. 3. To give shelter or refuge to. 4. To cherish within one"s breast. 5. To house or contain. harbours, harboured, harbouring, all-harbouring.
harmony ::: 1. A pleasing combination of elements in a whole. 2. Agreement in feeling or opinion; accord. 3. Combination of sounds considered pleasing to the ear. 4. A simultaneous combination of tones, esp. when blended into chords pleasing to the ear; chordal structure, as distinguished from melody and rhythm. harmony"s, harmonies, harmonious, harmoniously.
harrow ::: a farm implement consisting of a heavy frame with sharp teeth or upright disks, used to break up and even off ploughed ground.
hate ::: n. 1. Intense animosity or dislike; hatred. hates. v. 2. To dislike intensely or passionately; feel aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest. hates.
hatred ::: the feeling of one who hates; intense dislike or extreme aversion or hostility; detestation, loathing, enmity.
haze ::: 1. An aggregation in the atmosphere of very fine, widely dispersed, solid or liquid particles, or both, giving the air an opalescent appearance that subdues colours. 2. Reduced visibility in the air as a result of condensed water vapour, dust, etc., in the atmosphere. 3. Vagueness of obscurity, as of the mind or perception; confused or vague thoughts, feelings, etc.
heart-cords, heart-close, heart-disclosing, heart-disturbing, heart-plan, heart-pulse, heart-seeking, cave-heart, child-heart, child-heart"s, dim-heart, earth-heart, earth-hearts, fire-heart"s, lotus-heart, sea-heart, world-heart.
hero ::: 1. One who is distinguished by exceptional courage, nobility, fortitude, etc. 2. A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life (Sri Aurobindo also employs the word as an adj.) hero"s, heroes.
heroic ::: having, displaying, or characteristic of the qualities appropriate to a hero, such as bravery and courageousness.
**"I certainly won"t have ‘attracted" [in place of ‘allured"] — there is an enormous difference between the force of the two words and merely ‘attracted by the Ecstasy" would take away all my ecstasy in the line — nothing so tepid can be admitted. Neither do I want ‘thrill" [in place of ‘joy"] which gives a false colour — precisely it would mean that the ecstasy was already touching him with its intensity which is far from my intention.Your statement that ‘joy" is just another word for ‘ecstasy" is surprising. ‘Comfort", ‘pleasure", ‘joy", ‘bliss", ‘rapture", ‘ecstasy" would then be all equal and exactly synonymous terms and all distinction of shades and colours of words would disappear from literature. As well say that ‘flashlight" is just another word for ‘lightning" — or that glow, gleam, glitter, sheen, blaze are all equivalents which can be employed indifferently in the same place. One can feel allured to the supreme omniscient Ecstasy and feel a nameless joy touching one without that Joy becoming itself the supreme Ecstasy. I see no loss of expressiveness by the joy coming in as a vague nameless hint of the immeasurable superior Ecstasy.” Letters on Savitri*
::: "Identity is the first truth of existence; division is the second truth; all division is a division in oneness. There is one Existence which looks at itself from many self-divided unities observing other similar and dissimilar self-divided unities by the device of division. Being is one; division is a device or a secondary condition of consciousness; but the primary truth of consciousness also is a truth of oneness and identity.” Essays Divine and Human
"If discipline of all the members of our being by purification and concentration may be described as the right arm of the body of Yoga, renunciation is its left arm. By discipline or positive practice we confirm in ourselves the truth of things, truth of being, truth of knowledge, truth of love, truth of works and replace with these the falsehoods that have overgrown and perverted our nature; by renunciation we seize upon the falsehoods, pluck up their roots and cast them out of our way so that they shall no longer hamper by their persistence, their resistance or their recurrence the happy and harmonious growth of our divine living.” The Synthesis of Yoga*
::: "If there is an evolution in material Nature and if it is an evolution of being with consciousness and life as its two key-terms and powers, this fullness of being, fullness of consciousness, fullness of life must be the goal of development towards which we are tending and which will manifest at an early or later stage of our destiny. The Self, the Spirit, the Reality that is disclosing itself out of the first inconscience of life and matter, would evolve its complete truth of being and consciousness in that life and matter. It would return to itself, — or, if its end as an individual is to return into its Absolute, it could make that return also, — not through a frustration of life but through a spiritual completeness of itself in life. Our evolution in the Ignorance with its chequered joy and pain of self-discovery and world-discovery, its half-fulfilments, its constant finding and missing, is only our first state. It must lead inevitably towards an evolution in the Knowledge, a self-finding and self-unfolding of the Spirit, a self-revelation of the Divinity in things in that true power of itself in Nature which is to us still a Supernature.” The Life Divine
ignorance ::: the state or fact of being ignorant; lack of knowledge, learning, information. Ignorance, ignorance"s, Ignorance"s, ignorance", world-ignorance, World-Ignorance.
Sri Aurobindo: "Ignorance is the absence of the divine eye of perception which gives us the sight of the supramental Truth; it is the non-perceiving principle in our consciousness as opposed to the truth-perceiving conscious vision and knowledge.” *The Life Divine
"Ignorance is the consciousness of being in the successions of Time, divided in its knowledge by dwelling in the moment, divided in its conception of self-being by dwelling in the divisions of Space and the relations of circumstance, self-prisoned in the multiple working of the unity. It is called the Ignorance because it has put behind it the knowledge of unity and by that very fact is unable to know truly or completely either itself or the world, either the transcendent or the universal reality.” The Life Divine
"Ignorance means Avidya, the separative consciousness and the egoistic mind and life that flow from it and all that is natural to the separative consciousness and the egoistic mind and life. This Ignorance is the result of a movement by which the cosmic Intelligence separated itself from the light of the Supermind (the divine Gnosis) and lost the Truth, — truth of being, truth of divine consciousness, truth of force and action, truth of Ananda. As a result, instead of a world of integral truth and divine harmony created in the light of the divine Gnosis, we have a world founded on the part truths of an inferior cosmic Intelligence in which all is half-truth, half-error. . . . All in the consciousness of this creation is either limited or else perverted by separation from the integral Light; even the Truth it perceives is only a half-knowledge. Therefore it is called the Ignorance.” The Mother
". . . all ignorance is a penumbra which environs an orb of knowledge . . . .”The Life Divine
"This world is not really created by a blind force of Nature: even in the Inconscient the presence of the supreme Truth is at work; there is a seeing Power behind it which acts infallibly and the steps of the Ignorance itself are guided even when they seem to stumble; for what we call the Ignorance is a cloaked Knowledge, a Knowledge at work in a body not its own but moving towards its own supreme self-discovery.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga
"Knowledge is no doubt the knowledge of the One, the realisation of the Being; Ignorance is a self-oblivion of Being, the experience of separateness in the multiplicity and a dwelling or circling in the ill-understood maze of becomings: . . . .” The Life Divine*
"I have started writing about doubt, but even in doing so I am afflicted by the ‘doubt" whether any amount of writing or of anything else can ever persuade the eternal doubt in man which is the penalty of his native ignorance. In the first place, to write adequately would mean anything from 60 to 600 pages, but not even 6000 convincing pages would convince doubt. For doubt exists for its own sake; its very function is to doubt always and, even when convinced, to go on doubting still; it is only to persuade its entertainer to give it board and lodging that it pretends to be an honest truth-seeker. This is a lesson I have learnt from the experience both of my own mind and of the minds of others; the only way to get rid of doubt is to take discrimination as one"s detector of truth and falsehood and under its guard to open the door freely and courageously to experience.” Letters on Yoga
"I may say that the opening upwards, the ascent into the Light and the subsequent descent into the ordinary consciousness and normal human life is very common as the first decisive experience in the practice of yoga and may very well happen even without the practice of yoga in those who are destined for the spiritual change, especially if there is a dissatisfaction somewhere with the ordinary life and a seeking for something more, greater or better.” Letters on Yoga*
immune ::: totally protected against, or naturally resistant to, a disease; injury etc. Immune, immunity.
impress ::: a distinctive character or effect imparted.
in a disdainfully proud manner; snobbishly, scornfully arrogant, superciliously.
inapt ::: 1. Without aptitude or capacity; incapable. 2. Not inclined or disposed.
indiscernible ::: that cannot be seen or perceived clearly; imperceptible.
indissolubly ::: perpetually binding; unable to be dissolved.
indistinct ::: not clearly distinguishable or perceptible, as to the eye, ear, or mind. indistinctness.
incline ::: n. 1. A steep slope or rise. *v. 2. To bow, nod, or bend (the head, body, etc.). 3. To dispose (a person) in mind, habit, etc. (usually followed by to). 4. To listen, especially willingly or favourably. *inclined, inclining.
incoherent ::: without logical or meaningful connection; disjointed; rambling. incoherence, incoherencies.
inconscient ::: Sri Aurobindo: "The Inconscient and the Ignorance may be mere empty abstractions and can be dismissed as irrelevant jargon if one has not come in collision with them or plunged into their dark and bottomless reality. But to me they are realities, concrete powers whose resistance is present everywhere and at all times in its tremendous and boundless mass.” *Letters on Savitri
". . . in its actual cosmic manifestation the Supreme, being the Infinite and not bound by any limitation, can manifest in Itself, in its consciousness of innumerable possibilities, something that seems to be the opposite of itself, something in which there can be Darkness, Inconscience, Inertia, Insensibility, Disharmony and Disintegration. It is this that we see at the basis of the material world and speak of nowadays as the Inconscient — the Inconscient Ocean of the Rigveda in which the One was hidden and arose in the form of this universe — or, as it is sometimes called, the non-being, Asat.” Letters on Yoga
"The Inconscient itself is only an involved state of consciousness which like the Tao or Shunya, though in a different way, contains all things suppressed within it so that under a pressure from above or within all can evolve out of it — ‘an inert Soul with a somnambulist Force".” Letters on Yoga
"The Inconscient is the last resort of the Ignorance.” Letters on Yoga
"The body, we have said, is a creation of the Inconscient and itself inconscient or at least subconscient in parts of itself and much of its hidden action; but what we call the Inconscient is an appearance, a dwelling place, an instrument of a secret Consciousness or a Superconscient which has created the miracle we call the universe.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga :::
"The Inconscient is a sleep or a prison, the conscient a round of strivings without ultimate issue or the wanderings of a dream: we must wake into the superconscious where all darkness of night and half-lights cease in the self-luminous bliss of the Eternal.” The Life Divine
"Men have not learnt yet to recognise the Inconscient on which the whole material world they see is built, or the Ignorance of which their whole nature including their knowledge is built; they think that these words are only abstract metaphysical jargon flung about by the philosophers in their clouds or laboured out in long and wearisome books like The Life Divine. Letters on Savitri :::
"Is it really a fact that even the ordinary reader would not be able to see any difference between the Inconscient and Ignorance unless the difference is expressly explained to him? This is not a matter of philosophical terminology but of common sense and the understood meaning of English words. One would say ‘even the inconscient stone" but one would not say, as one might of a child, ‘the ignorant stone". One must first be conscious before one can be ignorant. What is true is that the ordinary reader might not be familiar with the philosophical content of the word Inconscient and might not be familiar with the Vedantic idea of the Ignorance as the power behind the manifested world. But I don"t see how I can acquaint him with these things in a single line, even with the most. illuminating image or symbol. He might wonder, if he were Johnsonianly minded, how an Inconscient could be teased or how it could wake Ignorance. I am afraid, in the absence of a miracle of inspired poetical exegesis flashing through my mind, he will have to be left wondering.” Letters on Savitri
**inconscient, Inconscient"s.**
inconstant ::: changing or varying, especially often and without discernible pattern or reason.
incredulous ::: disinclined or indisposed to believe; sceptical.
indignant ::: angered at something unjust or wrong; expressing strong displeasure at something considered unjust, offensive, insulting, or base.
individual ::: a distinct, indivisible entity; a single thing, being, instance, or item.
indolent ::: 1. Having or showing a disposition to avoid exertion; slothful. 2. Lazy, idle, torpid.
inextricable ::: intricately involved; incapable of being disentangled, loosed, or undone. inextricably.
infamies ::: infamous, shameful, or utterly disgraceful acts.
infernal ::: fiendish; diabolical.
"Influence is more important than example. Influence is not the outward authority of the Teacher over his disciple, but the power of his contact, of his presence, of the nearness of his soul to the soul of another, infusing into it, even though in silence, that which he himself is and possesses. This is the supreme sign of the Master. For the greatest Master is much less a Teacher than a Presence pouring the divine consciousness and its constituting light and power and purity and bliss into all who are receptive around him.” The Synthesis of Yoga*
inordinate ::: 1. Not regulated or controlled; disorderly. 2. Exceeding reasonable limits; excessive; immoderate.
in political and legal philosophy and theology, doctrines based on the theory that there are certain unchanging laws which pertain to man"s nature, which can be discovered by reason, and therefore ethically binding in human society, and to which man-made laws should conform.
insight ::: penetrating mental vision or discernment; faculty of seeing into the inner character or underlying truth of things.
insignia ::: a badge or emblem of membership, office, rank or dignity; an official or distinguishing sign.
insignificant ::: 1. Too small to be important. 2. Unimportant, trifling, or petty; of no consequence, influence or distinction. 3. Without meaning. insignificance.
intellect ::: the power or faculty of the mind by which one knows or understands, as distinguished from that by which one feels and that by which one wills; the understanding; the faculty of thinking and acquiring knowledge. intellect"s.
intuition ::: direct perception of truth, fact, etc., independent of any reasoning process. intuition"s, intuitions, half-intuition.
Sri Aurobindo: "Intuition is a power of consciousness nearer and more intimate to the original knowledge by identity; for it is always something that leaps out direct from a concealed identity. It is when the consciousness of the subject meets with the consciousness in the object, penetrates it and sees, feels or vibrates with the truth of what it contacts, that the intuition leaps out like a spark or lightning-flash from the shock of the meeting; or when the consciousness, even without any such meeting, looks into itself and feels directly and intimately the truth or the truths that are there or so contacts the hidden forces behind appearances, then also there is the outbreak of an intuitive light; or, again, when the consciousness meets the Supreme Reality or the spiritual reality of things and beings and has a contactual union with it, then the spark, the flash or the blaze of intimate truth-perception is lit in its depths. This close perception is more than sight, more than conception: it is the result of a penetrating and revealing touch which carries in it sight and conception as part of itself or as its natural consequence. A concealed or slumbering identity, not yet recovering itself, still remembers or conveys by the intuition its own contents and the intimacy of its self-feeling and self-vision of things, its light of truth, its overwhelming and automatic certitude.” *The Life Divine
"Intuition is always an edge or ray or outleap of a superior light; it is in us a projecting blade, edge or point of a far-off supermind light entering into and modified by some intermediate truth-mind substance above us and, so modified, again entering into and very much blinded by our ordinary or ignorant mind-substance; but on that higher level to which it is native its light is unmixed and therefore entirely and purely veridical, and its rays are not separated but connected or massed together in a play of waves of what might almost be called in the Sanskrit poetic figure a sea or mass of ``stable lightnings"". When this original or native Intuition begins to descend into us in answer to an ascension of our consciousness to its level or as a result of our finding of a clear way of communication with it, it may continue to come as a play of lightning-flashes, isolated or in constant action; but at this stage the judgment of reason becomes quite inapplicable, it can only act as an observer or registrar understanding or recording the more luminous intimations, judgments and discriminations of the higher power. To complete or verify an isolated intuition or discriminate its nature, its application, its limitations, the receiving consciousness must rely on another completing intuition or be able to call down a massed intuition capable of putting all in place. For once the process of the change has begun, a complete transmutation of the stuff and activities of the mind into the substance, form and power of Intuition is imperative; until then, so long as the process of consciousness depends upon the lower intelligence serving or helping out or using the intuition, the result can only be a survival of the mixed Knowledge-Ignorance uplifted or relieved by a higher light and force acting in its parts of Knowledge.” *The Life Divine
"I use the word ‘intuition" for want of a better. In truth, it is a makeshift and inadequate to the connotation demanded of it. The same has to be said of the word ‘consciousness" and many others which our poverty compels us to extend illegitimately in their significance.” *The Life Divine - Sri Aurobindo"s footnote.
"For intuition is an edge of light thrust out by the secret Supermind. . . .” The Life Divine
". . . intuition is born of a direct awareness while intellect is an indirect action of a knowledge which constructs itself with difficulty out of the unknown from signs and indications and gathered data.” The Life Divine
"Intuition is above illumined Mind which is simply higher Mind raised to a great luminosity and more open to modified forms of intuition and inspiration.” Letters on Yoga
"Intuition sees the truth of things by a direct inner contact, not like the ordinary mental intelligence by seeking and reaching out for indirect contacts through the senses etc. But the limitation of the Intuition as compared with the supermind is that it sees things by flashes, point by point, not as a whole. Also in coming into the mind it gets mixed with the mental movement and forms a kind of intuitive mind activity which is not the pure truth, but something in between the higher Truth and the mental seeking. It can lead the consciousness through a sort of transitional stage and that is practically its function.” Letters on Yoga
inviolate ::: unable to be violated or profaned; undisturbed; intact.
iridescent ::: displaying a play of lustrous colors like those of the rainbow.
iron out. *v. To iron or press (an item of clothing or the like). Hence, fig.* to work out, resolve or clear up (difficulties, disagreements, etc.).
issue ::: 1. The ultimate result, event, or outcome of a proceeding, affair, etc. 2. The act of sending out or putting forth; distribution. 3. Something that is sent out or put forth in any form. 4. The act of sending out or putting forth; promulgation; distribution. issues, issued, issuing, issueless.
jar ::: 1. A harsh, grating sound. 2. A sudden unpleasant effect upon the mind or feelings; shock. 3. A quarrel or disagreement, especially a minor one. jars, jarring.
lacerated ::: 1. *Lit. Torn; mangled. 2. Fig.* Torn with deep emotional pain; distress.
lacking moral discipline or ignoring legal restraint, especially in sexual conduct.
lame ::: 1. Crippled. 2. Disabled so that movement, especially walking, is difficult or impossible. lamed.
landscape ::: an extensive area of land regarded as being visually distinct. landscapes.
latitudes ::: distances on the globe, north or south of the equator, measured in degrees.
leave ::: 1. To go away from, depart from permanently, quit (a place, person, or thing). 2. To let remain or have remaining behind after going, disappearing, ceasing, etc. 3. To go without taking. 4. To permit, allow. 5. To let (someone) remain in a position to do something without interference. 6. To give in charge; entrust. 7. Have as a result or residue. leaves. (All other references to leaves are as pl. of leaf.)
"Life is universal Force working so as to create, energise, maintain and modify, even to the extent of dissolving and reconstructing, substantial forms with mutual play and interchange of an overtly or secretly conscious energy as its fundamental character.” The Life Divine
lineaments ::: distinctive shapes, contours, or lines, especially of the face.
listless ::: lacking energy or disinclined to exert effort; lethargic.
longing ::: strong, persistent desire or craving, esp. for something unattainable or distant. longing"s, longings, longings".
longitudes ::: distances, measured in degrees on the map, of places that are east or west of a standard north-south line, usually that which passes through Greenwich.
loomed ::: 1. Came into view as a massive, distorted, or indistinct image. 2. Rose before the vision with an appearance of great or portentous size. looming.
"Love is the power and passion of the divine self-delight and without love we may get the rapt peace of its infinity, the absorbed silence of the Ananda, but not its absolute depth of richness and fullness. Love leads us from the suffering of division into the bliss of perfect union, but without losing that joy of the act of union which is the soul"s greatest discovery and for which the life of the cosmos is a long preparation. Therefore to approach God by love is to prepare oneself for the greatest possible spiritual fulfilment. ” The Synthesis of Yoga
maim ::: 1. To injure, disable, or disfigure, usually by depriving of the use of a limb or other part of the body. 2. To make imperfect or defective; impair. Also fig. maims.
maimed ::: crippled or disabled. maimless.
malady ::: 1. Any disorder or disease of the body, esp. one that is chronic or deep-seated. 2. Any unwholesome, unhealthy, morbid or desperate condition. maladies.
malignancy ::: the quality of being disposed to evil; intense ill will.
malignant ::: 1. Showing great malevolence; disposed to do evil. 2. Very dangerous or harmful in influence or effect.
Man alive, your proposed emendations are an admirable exposition of the art of bringing a line down the steps till my poor "slow miraculous” above-mind line meant to give or begin the concrete portrayal of an act of some hidden Godhead finally becomes a mere metaphor thrown out from its more facile mint by a brilliantly imaginative poetic intelligence. First of all, you shift my "dimly” out of the way and transfer it to something to which it does not inwardly belongs make it an epithet of the gesture or an adverb qualifying its epithet instead of something that qualifies the atmosphere in which the act of the Godhead takes place. That is a preliminary havoc which destroys what is very important to the action, its atmosphere. I never intended the gesture to be dim, it is a luminous gesture, but forcing its way through the black quietude it comes dimly. Then again the bald phrase "a gesture came” without anything to psychicise it becomes simply something that "happened”, "came” being a poetic equivalent for "happened”, instead of the expression of the slow coming of the gesture. The words "slow” and "dimly” assure this sense of motion and this concreteness to the word"s sense here. Remove one or both whether entirely or elsewhere and you ruin the vision and change altogether its character. That is at least what happens wholly in your penultimate version and as for the last its "came” gets another meaning and one feels that somebody very slowly decided to let out the gesture from himself and it was quite a miracle that it came out at all! "Dimly miraculous” means what precisely or what "miraculously dim” — it was miraculous that it managed to be so dim or there was something vaguely miraculous about it after all? No doubt they try to mean something else — but these interpretations come in their way and trip them over. The only thing that can stand is the first version which is no doubt fine poetry, but the trouble is that it does not give the effect I wanted to give, the effect which is necessary for the dawn"s inner significance. Moreover, what becomes of the slow lingering rhythm of my line which is absolutely indispensable? Letters on Savitri
mangled ::: injured severely, disfigured, or mutilated by cutting, slashing, or crushing.
manifest ::: v. 1. To show or demonstrate plainly; reveal, display. manifested. adj. 2. Readily noticed or perceived; evident; obvious; apparent; plain; visible. manifesting.
mantra ::: Sri Aurobindo: "The mantra as I have tried to describe it in The Future Poetry is a word of power and light that comes from the Overmind inspiration or from some very high plane of Intuition. Its characteristics are a language that conveys infinitely more than the mere surface sense of the words seems to indicate, a rhythm that means even more than the language and is born out of the Infinite and disappears into it, and the power to convey not merely the mental, vital or physical contents or indications or values of the thing uttered, but its significance and figure in some fundamental and original consciousness which is behind all these and greater.” *The Future Poetry
mark ::: n. **1. A sign, symbol, action, event or other indication that distinguishes something. 2. A visible impression on something. 3. A distinctive trait or characteristic. 4. A fixed or recognized standard. caste-mark, hoof-mark, question-mark. v. 5. To make a visible trace or impression on, as with a spot, line, or dent. Also fig. 6. To record; to indicate in writing, note. 7. Fig. To designate as if by placing a mark upon; to indicate. 8. To take notice. marks, marked, marking.**
masked ::: disguised; concealed; hidden.
mask ::: n. 1. A covering for all or part of the face, worn to conceal one"s identity. 2. Anything that disguises, conceals, or hides from view. Mask, masks. v. 3. To disguise or conceal; hide, veil, screen, cloak. **masked, masking.
masquerade ::: 1. A party, dance, or other festive gathering of persons wearing masks and other disguises, and often elegant, historical, or fantastic costumes. 2. False outward show; façade; pretense.
massacre ::: the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder.
mass ::: n. 1. A body of coherent matter, usually of indefinite shape and often of considerable size. 2. A large amount or number, such as a great body of people. masses, flower-masses. 3. Bulk, size, expanse, or massiveness. 4. The main body, bulk, or greater part of anything. 5. Physics. A measure of the amount of matter contained in or constituting a physical body. adj. 6. Of, involving, composed of masses of people (or things) or the majority of people (or a society, group, etc.); done, made, etc., on a large scale. v. 7. To gather into or dispose in a mass or masses; assemble. massed.
master ::: a respectful term of address, esp. as used by disciples when addressing or referring to a religious teacher.
::: ". . . matter means the involution of the conscious delight of existence in self-oblivious force and in a self-dividing, infinitesimally disaggregated form of substance.” *The Synthesis of Yoga
::: "Maya is the supreme and universal consciousness and force of the Eternal and Infinite and, being by its very nature unbound and illimitable, it can put forth many states of consciousness at a time, many dispositions of its Force, without ceasing to be the same consciousness-force for ever. It is at once transcendental, universal and individual; it is the supreme supracosmic Being that is aware of itself as All-Being, as the Cosmic Self, as the Consciousness-Force of cosmic Nature, and at the same time experiences itself as the individual being and consciousness in all existences.” The Life Divine
mediator ::: one that mediates, especially one that reconciles differences between disputants. mediators.
mellow ::: 1. Rich and soft in quality. 2. Pleasantly agreeable; free from tension or discord.
melody ::: 1. Musical sounds in agreeable succession or arrangement. 2. The succession of single tones in musical compositions, as distinguished from harmony and rhythm. melodies, far-melodied.
melt ::: 1. To become liquid; dissolve; evaporate; disperse. 2. To pass, change, or blend gradually (often followed by into). 3. To remake or refashion into something else. melted, melting.
melting ::: that liquefies or dissolves.
meted ::: distributed or allotted (something, often unpleasant).
metric ::: of or relating to distance.
mild ::: 1. Gentle or temperate in character, climate, behaviour, etc. 2. Gentle or kind in disposition, manners, or behavior. 3. Warm and full of sunshine; pleasant.
mind, Self of ::: Sri Aurobindo: "If one stands back from the mind and its activities so that they fall silent at will or go on as a surface movement of which one is the detached and disinterested witness, it becomes possible eventually to realise oneself as the inner Self of mind, the true and pure mental being, the Purusha; . . . .” The Life Divine
mind ::: Sri Aurobindo: "The ‘Mind" in the ordinary use of the word covers indiscriminately the whole consciousness, for man is a mental being and mentalises everything; but in the language of this yoga the words ‘mind" and ‘mental" are used to connote specially the part of the nature which has to do with cognition and intelligence, with ideas, with mental or thought perceptions, the reactions of thought to things, with the truly mental movements and formations, mental vision and will, etc., that are part of his intelligence.” *Letters on Yoga
"Mind in its essence is a consciousness which measures, limits, cuts out forms of things from the indivisible whole and contains them as if each were a separate integer.” The Life Divine
"Mind is an instrument of analysis and synthesis, but not of essential knowledge. Its function is to cut out something vaguely from the unknown Thing in itself and call this measurement or delimitation of it the whole, and again to analyse the whole into its parts which it regards as separate mental objects.” The Life Divine
"The mind proper is divided into three parts — thinking Mind, dynamic Mind, externalising Mind — the former concerned with ideas and knowledge in their own right, the second with the putting out of mental forces for realisation of the idea, the third with the expression of them in life (not only by speech, but by any form it can give).” Letters on Yoga
"The difference between the ordinary mind and the intuitive is that the former, seeking in the darkness or at most by its own unsteady torchlight, first, sees things only as they are presented in that light and, secondly, where it does not know, constructs by imagination, by uncertain inference, by others of its aids and makeshifts things which it readily takes for truth, shadow projections, cloud edifices, unreal prolongations, deceptive anticipations, possibilities and probabilities which do duty for certitudes. The intuitive mind constructs nothing in this artificial fashion, but makes itself a receiver of the light and allows the truth to manifest in it and organise its own constructions.” The Synthesis of Yoga
"He [man] has in him not a single mentality, but a double and a triple, the mind material and nervous, the pure intellectual mind which liberates itself from the illusions of the body and the senses, and a divine mind above intellect which in its turn liberates itself from the imperfect modes of the logically discriminative and imaginative reason.” The Synthesis of Yoga
"Our mind is an observer of actuals, an inventor or discoverer of possibilities, but not a seer of the occult imperatives that necessitate the movements and forms of a creation. . . .” *The Life Divine
"The human mind is an instrument not of truth but of ignorance and error.” Letters on Yoga
"For Mind as we know it is a power of the Ignorance seeking for Truth, groping with difficulty to find it, reaching only mental constructions and representations of it in word and idea, in mind formations, sense formations, — as if bright or shadowy photographs or films of a distant Reality were all that it could achieve.” The Life Divine
The Mother: "The true role of the mind is the formation and organization of action. The mind has a formative and organizing power, and it is that which puts the different elements of inspiration in order for action, for organizing action. And if it would only confine itself to that role, receiving inspirations — whether from above or from the mystic centre of the soul — and simply formulating the plan of action — in broad outline or in minute detail, for the smallest things of life or the great terrestrial organizations — it would amply fulfil its function. It is not an instrument of knowledge. But is can use knowledge for action, to organize action. It is an instrument of organization and formation, very powerful and very capable when it is well developed.” Questions and Answers 1956, MCW Vol. 8.*
miracle-monger ::: a compound word denoting a person promoting something undesirable or discreditable, in this instance, miracles.
mirage ::: 1. An optical phenomenon that creates the illusion of water, often with inverted reflections of distant objects, and results from distortion of light by alternate layers of hot and cool air. 2. Something illusory, without substance or reality.
misery ::: 1. Severe mental or emotional unhappiness or distress. 2. The state of suffering and want as a result of physical circumstances or extreme poverty. 3. A cause or source of suffering. misery"s, miseries.
misrule ::: a disorder; bad or disorderly government.
n. 1. A humming sound. 2. A low continuous murmuring sound as of distant voices or noises. welcome-hum. v. 3. To emit the continuous droning sound of a bee on the wing; buzz. humming.
n. 1. The discomfort, weakness, or pain caused by a prolonged lack of food. v. 2.* Fig. To have a strong desire or craving. Hunger, *hunger"s, hungers hungered, hungering.
n. 1. The body or outward appearance of a person or an animal considered separately from the face or head; figure. 2. An object, person, or part of the human body or the appearance of any of these, esp. as seen in nature. 3. The mode in which a thing exists, acts, or manifests itself; kind. 4. The structure, pattern, organization or essential nature of anything. Form, form"s, forms, Forms, form-bound, form-discoveries, form-maker, form-smitten, thought-forms. v. 5. To give form to; shape. 6.* *To take or assume form; to be formed or produced. forms, formed, many-formed, sense-formed. ::: re-form.** To form a second time, form over again.
"Nor can the human confusion of values which obliterates the distinction between spiritual and moral and even claims that the moral is the only true spiritual element in our nature be of any use to us; for ethics is a mental control, and the limited erring mind is not and cannot be the free and ever-luminous spirit.” The Synthesis of Yoga
::: "Not to be disturbed by either joy or grief, pleasure or displeasure by what people say or do or by any outward things is called in yoga a state of samata , equality to all things.” Letters on Yoga
"One must go deep and find the soul, the self, the Divine Reality within us and only then can life become a true expression of what we can be instead of a blind and always repeated confused blur of the inadequate and imperfect thing we were. The choice is between remaining in the old jumble and groping about in the hope of stumbling on some discovery or standing back and seeking the Light within till we discover and can build the Godhead within and without us. "Letters on Yoga
"Ordinarily we mean by it [consciousness] our first obvious idea of a mental waking consciousness such as is possessed by the human being during the major part of his bodily existence, when he is not asleep, stunned or otherwise deprived of his physical and superficial methods of sensation. In this sense it is plain enough that consciousness is the exception and not the rule in the order of the material universe. We ourselves do not always possess it. But this vulgar and shallow idea of the nature of consciousness, though it still colours our ordinary thought and associations, must now definitely disappear out of philosophical thinking. For we know that there is something in us which is conscious when we sleep, when we are stunned or drugged or in a swoon, in all apparently unconscious states of our physical being. Not only so, but we may now be sure that the old thinkers were right when they declared that even in our waking state what we call then our consciousness is only a small selection from our entire conscious being. It is a superficies, it is not even the whole of our mentality. Behind it, much vaster than it, there is a subliminal or subconscient mind which is the greater part of ourselves and contains heights and profundities which no man has yet measured or fathomed.” Letters on Yoga
"Over each grade of our being a power of the Spirit presides; we have within us and discover when we go deep enough inwards a mind-self, a life-self, a physical self; there is a being of mind, a mental Purusha, expressing something of itself on our surface in the thoughts, perceptions, activities of our mind-nature, a being of life which expresses something of itself in the impulses, feelings, sensations, desires, external life-activities of our vital nature, a physical being, a being of the body which expresses something of itself in the instincts, habits, formulated activities of our physical nature. These beings or part selves of the self in us are powers of the Spirit and therefore not limited by their temporary expression, for what is thus formulated is only a fragment of its possibilities; but the expression creates a temporary mental, vital or physical personality which grows and develops even as the psychic being or soul-personality grows and develops within us.” The Life Divine
"Remind yourself always that the Divine Force is there, that you have felt it and that, even if you seem to lose consciousness of it for a time or it seems something distant, still it is there and is sure to prevail. For those whom the Force has touched and taken up, belong thenceforth to the Divine.” Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "But if the individual is a persistent reality, an eternal portion or power of the Eternal, if his growth of consciousness is the means by which the Spirit in things discloses its being, the cosmos reveals itself as a conditioned manifestation of the play of the eternal One in the being of Sachchidananda with the eternal Many.” *The Life Divine
Sri Aurobindo: "Chance is not *in this universe; the idea of illusion is itself an illusion. There was never illusion yet in the human mind that was not the concealing [?shape] and disfigurement of a truth.” Essays Divine and Human
Sri Aurobindo: "Concentration is a gathering together of the consciousness and either centralising at one point or turning on a single object, e.g., the Divine; there can also be a gathered condition throughout the whole being, not at a point. In meditation it is not indispensable to gather like this, one can simply remain with a quiet mind thinking of one subject or observing what comes in the consciousness and dealing with it.” *Letters on Yoga
*Sri Aurobindo: "Ego is only a faculty put forward by the discriminative mind to centralise round itself the experiences of the sense-mind and to serve as a sort of lynch-pin in the wheel which keeps together the movement. It is no more than an instrument, although it is true that so long as we are limited by our normal mentality, we are compelled by the nature of that mentality and the purpose of the instrument to mistake our ego-function for our very self.” The Upanishads
*Sri Aurobindo: "Fear is a creation of the vital plane, an instinct of the ignorance, a sense of danger with a violent vital reaction that replaces and usually prevents or distorts the intelligence of things. It might almost be considered as an invention of the hostile forces.” Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "Finally, we have the goddess Dakshina who may well be a female form of Daksha, himself a god and afterwards in the Purana one of the Prajapatis, the original progenitors, — we have Dakshina associated with the manifestation of knowledge and sometimes almost identified with Usha, the divine Dawn, who is the bringer of illumination. I shall suggest that Dakshina like the more famous Ila, Saraswati and Sarama, is one of four goddesses representing the four faculties of the Ritam or Truth-consciousness, — Ila representing truth-vision or revelation, Saraswati truth-audition, inspiration, the divine word, Sarama intuition, Dakshina the separative intuitional discrimination.” *The Secret of the Veda
Sri Aurobindo: "Further, vision is of value because it is often a first key to inner planes of one"s own being and one"s own consciousness as distinguished from worlds or planes of the cosmic consciousness. Yoga-experience often begins with some opening of the third eye in the forehead (the centre of vision in the brows) or with some kind of beginning and extension of subtle seeing which may seem unimportant at first but is the vestibule to deeper experience.” *Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "History teaches us nothing; it is a confused torrent of events and personalities or a kaleidoscope of changing institutions. We do not seize the real sense of all this change and this continual streaming forward of human life in the channels of Time. What we do seize are current or recurrent phenomena, facile generalisations, partial ideas. We talk of democracy, aristocracy and autocracy, collectivism and individualism, imperialism and nationalism, the State and the commune, capitalism and labour; we advance hasty generalisations and make absolute systems which are positively announced today only to be abandoned perforce tomorrow; we espouse causes and ardent enthusiasms whose triumph turns to an early disillusionment and then forsake them for others, perhaps for those that we have taken so much trouble to destroy. For a whole century mankind thirsts and battles after liberty and earns it with a bitter expense of toil, tears and blood; the century that enjoys without having fought for it turns away as from a puerile illusion and is ready to renounce the depreciated gain as the price of some new good. And all this happens because our whole thought and action with regard to our collective life is shallow and empirical; it does not seek for, it does not base itself on a firm, profound and complete knowledge. The moral is not the vanity of human life, of its ardours and enthusiasms and of the ideals it pursues, but the necessity of a wiser, larger, more patient search after its true law and aim.” *The Human Cycle etc.
Sri Aurobindo: "In considering the action of the Infinite we have to avoid the error of the disciple who thought of himself as the Brahman, refused to obey the warning of the elephant-driver to budge ::: from the narrow path and was taken up by the elephant"s trunk and removed out of the way; ‘You are no doubt the Brahman," said the master to his bewildered disciple, ‘but why did you not obey the driver Brahman and get out of the path of the elephant Brahman?"” *The Life Divine
*Sri Aurobindo: "In other words, ethics is a stage in evolution. That which is common to all stages is the urge of Sachchidananda towards self-expression. This urge is at first non-ethical, then infra-ethical in the animal, then in the intelligent animal even anti-ethical for it permits us to approve hurt done to others which we disapprove when done to ourselves. In this respect man even now is only half-ethical. And just as all below us is infra-ethical, so there may be that above us whither we shall eventually arrive, which is supra-ethical, has no need of ethics. The ethical impulse and attitude, so all-important to humanity, is a means by which it struggles out of the lower harmony and universality based upon inconscience and broken up by Life into individual discords towards a higher harmony and universality based upon conscient oneness with all existences. Arriving at that goal, this means will no longer be necessary or even possible, since the qualities and oppositions on which it depends will naturally dissolve and disappear in the final reconciliation.” The Life Divine
*Sri Aurobindo: "In our world error is continually the handmaid and pathfinder of Truth; for error is really a half-truth that stumbles because of its limitations; often it is Truth that wears a disguise in order to arrive unobserved near to its goal.” The Life Divine
*Sri Aurobindo: "It [falsehood] is created by an Asuric (hostile) power which intervenes in this creation and is not only separated from the Truth and therefore limited in knowledge and open to error, but in revolt against the Truth or in the habit of seizing the Truth only to pervert it. This Power, the dark Asuric Shakti or Rakshasic Maya, puts forward its own perverted consciousness as true knowledge and its wilful distortions or reversals of the Truth as the verity of things. It is the powers and personalities of this perverted and perverting consciousness that we call hostile beings, hostile forces. Whenever these perversions created by them out of the stuff of the Ignorance are put forward as the Truth of things, that is the Falsehood, in the yogic sense, . . . .” Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "It is an achievement to have got rid so rapidly and decisively of the shimmering mists and fogs which modern intellectualism takes for Light of Truth. The modern mind has so long and persistently wandered – and we with it – in the Valley of the False Glimmer that it is not easy for anyone to disperse its mists with the sunlight of clear vision.” Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "Material Nature is not ethical; the law which governs it is a co-ordination of fixed habits which take no cognisance of good and evil, but only of force that creates, force that arranges and preserves, force that disturbs and destroys impartially, non-ethically, according to the secret Will in it, according to the mute satisfaction of that Will in its own self-formations and self-dissolutions.” *The Life Divine
Sri Aurobindo: "Only those thoughts are true the opposite of which is also true in its own time and application; indisputable dogmas are the most dangerous kind of falsehoods.” Essays Divine and Human
Sri Aurobindo: ". . . our mind has the faculty of imagination; it can create and take as true and real its own mental structures: . . . . Our mental imagination is an instrument of Ignorance; it is the resort or device or refuge of a limited capacity of knowledge, a limited capacity of effective action. Mind supplements these deficiencies by its power of imagination: it uses it to extract from things obvious and visible the things that are not obvious and visible; it undertakes to create its own figures of the possible and the impossible; it erects illusory actuals or draws figures of a conjectured or constructed truth of things that are not true to outer experience. That is at least the appearance of its operation; but, in reality, it is the mind"s way or one of its ways of summoning out of Being its infinite possibilities, even of discovering or capturing the unknown possibilities of the Infinite.” The Life Divine
Sri Aurobindo: "So the possibility of the sunlit path is not a discovery or original invention of mine. The very first books on yoga I read more than thirty years ago spoke of the dark and sunlit way and emphasised the superiority of the latter over the former.” *Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "The first is the discovery of the soul, not the outer soul of thought and emotion and desire, but the secret psychic entity, the divine element within us. When that becomes dominant over the nature, when we are consciously the soul and when mind, life and body take their true place as its instruments, we are aware of a guide within that knows the truth, the good, the true delight and beauty of existence, controls heart and intellect by its luminous law and leads our life and being towards spiritual completeness.” *The Life Divine
*Sri Aurobindo: "The Indian explanation of fate is Karma. We ourselves are our own fate through our actions, but the fate created by us binds us; for what we have sown, we must reap in this life or another. Still we are creating our fate for the future even while undergoing old fate from the past in the present. That gives a meaning to our will and action and does not, as European critics wrongly believe, constitute a rigid and sterilising fatalism. But again, our will and action can often annul or modify even the past Karma, it is only certain strong effects, called utkata karma, that are non-modifiable. Here too the achievement of the spiritual consciousness and life is supposed to annul or give the power to annul Karma. For we enter into union with the Will Divine, cosmic or transcendent, which can annul what it had sanctioned for certain conditions, new-create what it had created, the narrow fixed lines disappear, there is a more plastic freedom and wideness. Neither Karma nor Astrology therefore points to a rigid and for ever immutable fate.” Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "The word ‘ghost" as used in popular parlance covers an enormous number of distinct phenomena which have no necessary connection with each other. To name a few only: ::: An actual contact with the soul of a human being in its subtle body and transcribed to our mind by the appearance of an image or the hearing of a voice.
Sri Aurobindo: "To act according to a standard of Truth or a rule or law of action (dharma) or in obedience to a superior authority or to the highest principles discovered by the reason and intelligent will and not according to one"s own fancy, vital impulses and desires. In yoga obedience to the Guru or to the Divine and the law of the Truth as declared by the Guru is the foundation of discipline.” *Letters on Yoga
Sri Aurobindo: "We have distinguished a fourfold principle of divine Being creative of the universe, — Existence, Conscious-Force, Bliss and Supermind.” *The Life Divine
Sri Aurobindo: "What the "void" feels as a clutch is felt by the Mother only as a reminding finger laid on her cheek. It is one advantage of the expression ‘as if" that it leaves the field open for such variation. It is intended to suggest without saying it that behind the sombre void is the face of a mother. The two other ‘as if"s have the same motive and I do not find them jarring upon me. The second is at a sufficient distance from the first and it is not obtrusive enough to prejudice the third which more nearly follows. . . .” Letters on Savitri
Sri Aurobindo: "Yet all the time the universal forces are pouring into him without his knowing it. He is aware only of thoughts, feelings, etc., that rise to the surface and these he takes for his own. Really they come from outside in mind waves, vital waves, waves of feeling and sensation, etc., which take particular form in him and rise to the surface after they have got inside. But they do not get into his body at once. He carries about with him an environmental consciousness (called by the Theosophists the Aura) into which they first enter. If you can become conscious of this environmental self of yours, then you can catch the thought, passion, suggestion or force of illness and prevent it from entering into you. If things in you are thrown out, they often do not go altogether but take refuge in this environmental atmosphere and from there they try to get in again. Or they go to a distance outside but linger on the outskirts or even perhaps far off, waiting till they get an opportunity to attempt entrance.” *Letters on Yoga
(Technically)** **Any of various birds of the family Paradisaeidae, native to New Guinea and adjacent islands, usually having brilliant plumage and long tail feathers in the male.
"The Absolute is beyond personality and beyond impersonality, and yet it is both the Impersonal and the supreme Person and all persons. The Absolute is beyond the distinction of unity and multiplicity, and yet it is the One and the innumerable Many in all the universes.” The Synthesis of Yoga
"The Adversary will disappear only when he is no longer necessary in the world. And we know very well that he is necessary, as the touch-stone for gold: to know if it is pure. But if one is really sincere, the Adversary can"t even approach him any longer; and he doesn"t try it, because that would be courting his own destruction.” Questions and Answers 1955, MCW Vol. 7.
"The animal is satisfied with a modicum of necessity; the gods are content with their splendours. But man cannot rest permanently until he reaches some highest good. He is the greatest of living beings because he is the most discontented, because he feels most the pressure of limitations. He alone, perhaps, is capable of being seized by the divine frenzy for a remote ideal.” The Life Divine
The Apsaras then are the divine Hetairae of Paradise, beautiful singers and actresses whose beauty and art relieve the arduous and world-long struggle of the Gods against the forces that tend towards disruption by the Titans who would restore Matter to its original atomic condition or of dissolution by the sages and hermits who would make phenomena dissolve prematurely into the One who is above phenomena. They rose from the Ocean, says Valmiki, seeking who should choose them as brides, but neither the Gods nor the Titans accepted them, therefore are they said to be common or universal. The Harmony of Virtue
"The Avatar does not come as a thaumaturgic magician, but as the divine leader of humanity and the exemplar of a divine humanity. Even human sorrow and physical suffering he must assume and use so as to show, first, how that suffering may be a means of redemption, — as did Christ, — secondly, to show how, having been assumed by the divine soul in the human nature, it can also be overcome in the same nature, — as did Buddha. The rationalist who would have cried to Christ, ‘If thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross," or points out sagely that the Avatar was not divine because he died and died too by disease, — as a dog dieth, — knows not what he is saying: for he has missed the root of the whole matter. Even, the Avatar of sorrow and suffering must come before there can be the Avatar of divine joy; the human limitation must be assumed in order to show how it can be overcome; and the way and the extent of the overcoming, whether internal only or external also, depends upon the stage of the human advance; it must not be done by a non-human miracle.” Essays on the Gita
"The cosmic consciousness is that in which the limits of ego, personal mind and body disappear and one becomes aware of a cosmic vastness which is or filled by a cosmic spirit and aware also of the direct play of cosmic forces, universal mind forces, universal life forces, universal energies of Matter, universal overmind forces. But one does not become aware of all these together; the opening of the cosmic consciousness is usually progressive. It is not that the ego, the body, the personal mind disappear, but one feels them as only a small part of oneself. One begins to feel others too as part of oneself or varied repetitions of oneself, the same self modified by Nature in other bodies. Or, at the least, as living in the larger universal self which is henceforth one"s own greater reality. All things in fact begin to change their nature and appearance; one"s whole experience of the world is radically different from that of those who are shut up in their personal selves. One begins to know things by a different kind of experience, more direct, not depending on the external mind and the senses. It is not that the possibility of error disappears, for that cannot be so long as mind of any kind is one"s instrument for transcribing knowledge, but there is a new, vast and deep way of experiencing, seeing, knowing, contacting things; and the confines of knowledge can be rolled back to an almost unmeasurable degree. The thing one has to be on guard against in the cosmic consciousness is the play of a magnified ego, the vaster attacks of the hostile forces — for they too are part of the cosmic consciousness — and the attempt of the cosmic Illusion (Ignorance, Avidya) to prevent the growth of the soul into the cosmic Truth. These are things that one has to learn from experience; mental teaching or explanation is quite insufficient. To enter safely into the cosmic consciousness and to pass safely through it, it is necessary to have a strong central unegoistic sincerity and to have the psychic being, with its divination of truth and unfaltering orientation towards the Divine, already in front in ::: —the nature.” Letters on Yoga*
"The evil forces are perversions of the Truth by the Ignorance — in any complete transformation they must disappear and the Truth behind them be delivered.” Letters on Yoga
"The ‘I" or the little ego is constituted by Nature and is at once a mental, vital and physical formation meant to aid in centralising and individualising the outer consciousness and action. When the true being is discovered, the utility of the ego is over and this formation has to disappear — the true being is felt in its place.” Letters on Yoga
::: "The lower nature is ignorant and undivine, not in itself hostile but shut to the Light and Truth. The hostile forces are anti-divine, not merely undivine; they make use of the lower nature, pervert it, fill it with distorted movements and by that means influence man and even try to enter and possess or at least entirely control him.” *Letters on Yoga
The Mother: ‘There are four Asuras. Two have already been converted, and the other two, the Lord of Death and the Lord of Falsehood, made an attempt at conversion by taking on a physical body – they have been intimately associated with my life. The story of these Asuras would be very interesting to recount. . . the Lord of Death disappeared; he lost his physical body, and I don"t know what has become of him. As for the other, the Lord of Falsehood, the one who now rules over this earth, he tried hard to be converted but he found it disgusting!
*The Mother: "To conquer the Adversary is not a small thing. One must have a greater power than his to vanquish him. But one can liberate oneself totally from his influence. And from the minute one is completely free from his influence, one"s self-giving can be total. And with the self-giving comes joy, long before the Adversary is truly vanquished and disappears.”
::: "Then too we can see that even in the play of the forces and in spite of their distortions the Cosmic Will is working towards the eventual realisation of the Will of the Transcendent Divine.” *Letters on Yoga
"The personal and the impersonal are themselves posited and experienced by mind as separate realities and one or other is declared and seen as supreme, so that the personal can have laya in the Impersonal or, on the contrary, the impersonal disappears into the absolute reality of the supreme and divine Person — the impersonal in that view is only an attribute or power of the personal Divine. But at the summit of spiritual experience passing beyond mind one begins to feel the fusion of all these things into one. Consciousness, Existence, Ananda return to their indivisible unity, Sachchidananda. The personal and the impersonal become irrevocably one, so that to posit one as against the other appears as an act of ignorance.” *Letters on Yoga
"There is always the personal and the impersonal side of the Divine and the Truth and it is a mistake to think the impersonal alone to be true or important, for that leads to a void incompleteness in part of the being, while only one side is given satisfaction. Impersonality belongs to the intellectual mind and the static self, personality to the soul and heart and dynamic being. Those who disregard the personal Divine ignore something which is profound and essential.” Letters on Yoga ::: Impersonal"s.
::: **"There is no fear in the higher Nature. Fear is a creation of the vital plane, an instinct of the ignorance, a sense of danger with a violent vital reaction that replaces and usually prevents or distorts the intelligence of things.” Letters on Yoga
"The sunlit path can only be followed if the psychic is constantly or usually in front or if one has a natural spirit of faith and surrender or a face turned habitually towards the sun or psychic predisposition (e.g. a faith in one"s spiritual destiny) or, if one has acquired the psychic turn. That does not mean that the sunlit man has no difficulties; he may have many, but he regards them cheerfully as all in the day's work''. If he gets a bad beating, he is capable of saying,Well, that was a queer go but the Divine is evidently in a queer mood and if that is his way of doing things, it must be the right one; I am surely a still queerer fellow myself and that, I suppose, was the only means of putting me right."" Letters on Yoga
"This Godhead is one in all things that are, the self who lives in all and the self in whom all live and move; therefore man has to discover his spiritual unity with all creatures, to see all in the self and the self in all beings, even to see all things and creatures as himself, âtmaupamyena sarvatra, and accordingly think, feel and act in all his mind, will and living. This Godhead is the origin of all that is here or elsewhere and by his Nature he has become all these innumerable existences, abhût sarvâni bhûtâni; therefore man has to see and adore the One in all things animate and inanimate, to worship the manifestation in sun and star and flower, in man and every living creature, in the forms and forces, qualities and powers of Nature, vâsudevah sarvam iti.” Essays on the Gita ::: *godhead, godheads, godhead"s.
"This universal aesthesis of beauty and delight does not ignore or fail to understand the differences and oppositions, the gradations, the harmony and disharmony obvious to the ordinary consciousness; but, first of all, it draws a Rasa from them and with that comes the enjoyment, Bhoga. and the touch or the mass of the Ananda. It sees that all things have their meaning, their value, their deeper or total significance which the mind does not see, for the mind is only concerned with a surface vision, surface contacts and its own surface reactions. When something expresses perfectly what it was meant to express, the completeness brings with it a sense of harmony, a sense of artistic perfection; it gives even to what is discordant a place in a system of cosmic concordances and the discords become part of a vast harmony, and wherever there is harmony, there is a sense of beauty. ” Letters on Savitri*
to refuse to pay attention to; disregard intentionally.
"Usha is the divine illumination and Dakshina is the discerning knowledge that comes with the dawn and enables the Power in the mind, Indra, to know aright and separate the light from the darkness, the truth from the falsehood, the straight from the crooked, vrinîta vijânan.” The Secret of the Veda*
"We are not the body, but the body is still something of ourselves. With realisation the erroneous identification ceases — in certain experiences the existence of the body is not felt at all. In the full realisation the body is within us, not we in it, it is an instrumental formation in our wider being, — our consciousness exceeds but also pervades it, — it can be dissolved without our ceasing to be the self.” Letters on Yoga
". . . what is this strongly separative self-experience that we call ego? It is nothing fundamentally real in itself but only a practical constitution of our consciousness devised to centralise the activities of Nature in us. We perceive a formation of mental, physical, vital experience which distinguishes itself from the rest of being, and that is what we think of as ourselves in nature — this individualisation of being in becoming. We then proceed to conceive of ourselves as something which has thus individualised itself and only exists so long as it is individualised, — a temporary or at least a temporal becoming; or else we conceive of ourselves as someone who supports or causes the individualisation, an immortal being perhaps but limited by its individuality. This perception and this conception constitute our ego-sense.” The Life Divine
"When we study this Life as it manifests itself upon earth with Matter as its basis, we observe that essentially it is a form of the one cosmic Energy, a dynamic movement or current of it positive and negative, a constant act or play of the Force which builds up forms, energises them by a continual stream of stimulation and maintains them by an unceasing process of disintegration and renewal of their substance. This would tend to show that the natural opposition we make between death and life is an error of our mentality, one of those false oppositions — false to inner truth though valid in surface practical experience — which, deceived by appearances, it is constantly bringing into the universal unity.” The Life Divine ::: *life"s, life-born, life-curve, life-delight"s, life-drift, life-foam, life-giving, life-impulse, life-impulse"s, life-motives, life-nature"s, life-pain, life-plan, life-power, life-room, life-scene, life-self, life-thought, life-wants, all-life, sense-life.
"Yet there is still the unknown underlying Oneness which compels us to strive slowly towards some form of harmony, of interdependence, of concording of discords, of a difficult unity. But it is only by the evolution in us of the concealed superconscient powers of cosmic Truth and of the Reality in which they are one that the harmony and unity we strive for can be dynamically realised in the very fibre of our being and all its self-expression and not merely in imperfect attempts, incomplete constructions, ever-changing approximations.” The Life Divine*
KEYS (10k)
1 Saint Paul
1 Rilke
NEW FULL DB (2.4M)
19 Walt Disney
12 Anonymous
8 Thomas A Edison
7 Benjamin Disraeli
4 Plato
4 George Herbert
4 Anthony Kiedis
3 Voltaire
3 Toba Beta
3 Seneca
3 Robert Frost
3 Peter H Diamandis
3 Marie Kond
3 Kim Harrison
3 Horace
3 Hippocrates
3 Aesop
2 Zadie Smith
2 T S Eliot
2 Tahereh Mafi
1:For the Witness, if he exists, is not the individual embodied mind born in the world, but that cosmic Consciousness embracing the universe and appearing as an immanent Intelligence in all its works to which either world subsists eternally and really as Its own active existence or else from which it is born and into which it disappears by an act of knowledge or by an act of conscious power. Not organised mind, but that which, calm and eternal, broods equally in the living earth and the living human body and to which mind and senses are dis- pensable instruments, is the Witness of cosmic existence and its Lord. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine, 1.03, #KEYS
2:The majority of Buddhists and Buddhist teachers in the West are green postmodern pluralists, and thus Buddhism is largely interpreted in terms of the green altitude and the pluralistic value set, whereas the greatest Buddhist texts are all 2nd tier, teal (Holistic) or higher (for example, Lankavatara Sutra, Kalachakra Tantra, Longchenpa's Kindly Bent to Ease Us, Nagarjuna's Madhyamaka treatises, and so forth).
This makes teal (Holistic), or Integral 2nd tier in general, the lowest deeply adequate level with which to interpret Buddhism, ultimate Reality, and Suchness itself. Thus, interpreting Suchness in pluralistic terms (or lower) would have to be viewed ultimately as a dysfunction, certainly a case of arrested development, and one requiring urgent attention in any Fourth Turning.
These are some of the problems with interpreting states (in this case, Suchness states) with a too-low structure (in short, a severe misinterpretation and thus misunderstanding of the Ultimate). As for interpreting them with dysfunctional structures (of any altitude), the problem more or less speaks for itself. Whether the structure in itself is high enough or not, any malformation of the structure will be included in the interpretation of any state (or any other experience), and hence will deform the interpretation itself, usually in the same basic ways as the structure itself is deformed. Thus, for example, if there is a major Fulcrum-3 (red altitude) repression of various bodily states (sex, aggression, power, feelings), those repressions will be interpreted as part of the higher state itself, and so the state will thus be viewed as devoid of (whereas this is actually a repression of) any sex, aggression, power, feelings, or whatever it is that is dis-owned and pushed into the repressed submergent unconscious. If there is an orange altitude problem with self-esteem (Fulcrum-5), that problem will be magnified by the state experience, and the more intense the state experience, the greater the magnification. Too little self-esteem, and even profound spiritual experiences can be interpreted as "I'm not worthy, so this state-which seems to love me unconditionally-must be confused." If too much self-esteem, higher experiences are misinterpreted, not as a transcendence of the self, but as a reward for being the amazing self I am-"the wonder of being me." ~ Ken Wilber, The Religion Of Tomorrow,#KEYS
*** WISDOM TROVE ***
1:Someday is a dis-ease that will take your dreams to the grave with you. ~ tim-ferris, @wisdomtrove 2:How come you don't ever hear about gruntled employees? And who has been dis-ing them anyhow? ~ steven-wright, @wisdomtrove 3:Let yourself go with dis-ease, be with it, and keep it company. This is the way to be rid of it. ~ bruce-lee, @wisdomtrove 4:Don’t tolerate any form of average. Don’t accept Dis-excellence. Don’t stand for mediocre. If you’re going to settle, then please settle for the absolute best. ~ robin-sharma, @wisdomtrove 5:I accept perfect health as the natural state of my being. I now consciously release any mental patterns within me that could express as dis-ease in any way. Perfect health is my Divine right, and I claim it now. ~ louise-hay, @wisdomtrove 6:All dese governments and dis this and that, these people that say they're here to help, why them say you cannot smoke the herb? Herb... herb is a plant, you know? And when me check it, me can't find no reason. All them say is, & 7:It might interest you to know that the 1828 Noah Webster Dictionary identifies the optimist in complimentary terms, but says nothing about the pessimist. The word & 8:As an automobile needs premium fuel to operate well, our bodies need real, fresh food to maintain health. Packaged food creates dis-ease. There’s no nourishment in it. The body can only handle it for so long. Then, when you do have a problem, you usually take an over-the-counter or prescription drug. This is another form of poison. ~ louise-hay, @wisdomtrove 9:And I, the for¬≠mer mys¬≠tic, was think¬≠ing: Yes, man is stronger, greater than God. When Adam and Eve de¬≠ceived You, You chased them from par¬≠adise. When You were dis¬≠pleased by Noah’s generation, You brought down the Flood. When Sodom lost Your fa¬≠vour, You caused the heav¬≠ens to rain down fire and damna¬≠tion. But look at these men whom You have be¬≠trayed, al¬≠low¬≠ing them to be tortured, slaugh¬≠tered, gassed, and burned, what do they do? They pray be¬≠fore You! They praise Your name! ~ elie-wiesel, @wisdomtrove *** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***
1:Be at ease, not dis-ease. ~ Wayne Dyer, #NFDB
2:So, whazzit dis time, cizzen? ~ Ian McDonald, #NFDB
3:The gods thought otherwise.
Dis aliter visum. ~ Virgil,#NFDB
4:Dis am life; some go up and some go down. ~ Malcolm Gladwell, #NFDB
5:Dis-Moi, Ma Simple Et Ma Tranquille Amie
~ Emile Verhaeren,#NFDB
6:Old Testament prophets. ‘You savvy dis fetish thing? ~ William Boyd, #NFDB
7:Dis-moi, ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe! ~ Charles Baudelaire, #NFDB
8:Nema smisla remetiti besmislenost u svom toku. ~ Vladislav Petkovi Dis, #NFDB
9:The whole world is a disaster waiting to happen. ~ Chuck Palahniuk, #NFDB
10:Dis is bribery, is it?” he whispered. “This is taxation, ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
11:Life imitating bad literary criticism. Dis/inte/gration. ~ Edward St Aubyn, #NFDB
12:Self Hate: The deadliest 'dis-ease' experienced by wounded souls. ~ T F Hodge, #NFDB
13:Jer svako živi u grobu svom, samo što neće da vidi grob. ~ Vladislav Petkovi Dis, #NFDB
14:Gratitude is the miracle cure for every moment of dis-ease. ~ Neale Donald Walsch, #NFDB
15:Someday is a dis-ease that will take your dreams to the grave with you. ~ Tim Ferriss, #NFDB
16:Chaque jour, je me dis de ne pas regarder et, chaque jour, je regarde. ~ Paula Hawkins, #NFDB
17:Si ce que tu dis n'est pas plus beau que le silence, alors tais-toi ~ ric Emmanuel Schmitt, #NFDB
18:What makes us so unique is when TAPS comes in we try to dis-prove a haunting. ~ Jason Hawes, #NFDB
19:After recently acquiring a position as a seamstress at Damsels in Dis Dress, ~ Lorraine Heath, #NFDB
20:Is the lazy co-worker’s apathy a dis to your inner hard worker’s sense of ambition? ~ Issa Rae, #NFDB
21:Dis wat 'n mens Hollands kan maak. Hierdie water wat soos asem om jou is. ~ Etienne van Heerden, #NFDB
22:To repeat a well known expression, we do not treat the dis-ease, we treat the person ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
23:What is initially displaced by a familiar colloquialism is excavated by a pun. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
24:I don't write songs in order to stick it to my exes. I don't release underground dis tracks. ~ John Mayer, #NFDB
25:I agree with Donna Brazile who said about Benghazi: "We got to preven dis from hapinin agen. " ~ Joe Biden, #NFDB
26:Depuis un moment, mais pour toute ma vie,
J'aime, que dis-je, aimer ?
J'idolâtre Junie. ~ Jean Racine,#NFDB
27:Let yourself go with dis-ease, be with it, and keep it company. This is the way to be rid of it. ~ Bruce Lee, #NFDB
28:Comment dis-tu 'Oh my God, I don't know nearly enough French to pass French II' en français? ~ John Green, #NFDB
29:- Pourquoi me dis-tu ça ?
- Parce que tu es mon fils et que je te connais comme si je t'avais fait. ~ Marc Levy,#NFDB
30:Only when you get dis-identified, when you are able to be involved but not entangled, only then it can stop. ~ Sadguru, #NFDB
31:Well, for what's good, you have to go somewhere else. But for what Mother used to make, dis is da place... ~ Neil Simon, #NFDB
32:Dis-lui que les livres ont la puissance que leur accorde leur lecteur et que celle-ci peut être sans fin. ~ Bernard Werber, #NFDB
33:Il y a une femme dans toutes les affaires; aussitôt qu'on me fait un rapport, je dis: 'Cherchez la femme'. ~ Alexandre Dumas, #NFDB
34:During moments of strife and 'dis-ease', check your flow and redirect your focus to that which is naturally good. ~ T F Hodge, #NFDB
35:The mental thought patterns that cause the most dis-ease in the body are criticism, anger, resentment, and guilt. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
36:Silence speaks in vibes, not sentences. So stop repeating yourself to those who continue to dis your warning signals. ~ T F Hodge, #NFDB
37:If an organ gets a "dis-ease" you want to care for it like a wounded friend, not an enemy who's turned against you. ~ Judith Orloff, #NFDB
38:Il y a deux mensonges fondamentaux: celui qui proclame 'je dis la vérité' et celui qui affirme 'je ne peux pas dire. ~ Jacques Ranci re, #NFDB
39:J'accepte que ce que je dis n'est pas toujours ce qui est entendu et que ce que j'entends n'est pas forcément ce qui est dit. ~ Jacques Salom, #NFDB
40:Now we sing dis stupid song! Sing it as we run along! Why we sing dis we don’t know! We can’t make der words rhyme prop’ly! ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
41:all misbehaving children are dis-couraged. Having lost heart, they believe they must manipulate in order to get their needs met. ~ John Bradshaw, #NFDB
42:Je ne dispute donc pas que la médecine ne soit utile à quelques hommes, mais je dis qu’elle est funeste au genre humain. ~ Jean Jacques Rousseau, #NFDB
43:On dit souvent qu'il faut sauver les apparences. Moi je dis qu'il faut les assassiner car c'est le seul moyen d'être sauvé. ~ Fr d ric Beigbeder, #NFDB
44:Ce Français avec qui je sortais.
- Je l'avais oublié, dit-elle. Comment il s'appelait, déjà ?
- Enfoiré, dis-je.
- Exact. ~ Melissa Bank,#NFDB
45:dis·po·si·tion n. 1 a person's inherent qualities of mind and character: a sweet-natured girl of a placid disposition. ~ Oxford University Press, #NFDB
46:Now I knew from personal experience that DIS-EASE CAN BE HEALED, IF WE ARE WILLING TO CHANGE THE WAY WE THINK AND BELIEVE AND ACT! ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
47:Dis seker hoekom mens 'n beste vriendin moet hê, dink ek terwyl ek saam haar stap. Om jou hand vas te hou as jy uitmekaarval ~ Marita van der Vyver, #NFDB
48:Zis and zat' when uttered by the French is considered charming, but 'dis and dat' as an Africanism is ridiculed as gross and ugly. ~ Alice Childress, #NFDB
49:Les philosophes disent: Modérez vos joies. Moi je dis: Lâchez-leur la bride, à vos joies. Soyez épris comme des diables. Soyez enragés. ~ Victor Hugo, #NFDB
50:Je dis plus : la meilleure politique guerrière est de prendre un État intact ; une politique inférieure à celle-ci consisterait à le ruiner. ~ Sun Tzu, #NFDB
51:Car, je te le dis en vérité, Nathanaël,
chaque désir m'a plus enrichi que la possession toujours fausse
de l'objet même de mon désir. ~ Andr Gide,#NFDB
52:Eleanor Baker is een van Afrikaans se beste skrywers en dis jammer dat baie Suid-Afrikaners dit dalk nooit, of te laat, gaan agterkom nie. ~ Andr Brink, #NFDB
53:Je dis qu'il faut être voyant, se faire voyant. Le poète se fait voyant par un long, immense et raisonné dérèglement de tous les sens. ~ Arthur Rimbaud, #NFDB
54:Cura pii Dis sunt, & qui coluere coluntur. ~ Heaven rewards the pious; those who cherish God ~ Themselves are cherished. ~ Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIIL, 725, #NFDB
55:Don't be (dis.grun.tled), disgruntled that someone else is more successful than you are. Let their success motivate you to become successful. ~ Jon Jones, #NFDB
56:Don’t dis the geek,” J.J. said, turning his attention back to his laptop. “Diamonds are overrated; we are actually a girl’s best friend. ~ Robert J Crane, #NFDB
57:En vérité, je vous dis: si vous ne vous convertissez et ne devenez comme les petits enfants, vous n'entrerez point dans le royaume des cieux. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
58:Ne dis pas : je vis maintenant, je mourrai demain. Ne divise pas la réalité entre la vie et la mort. Dis : maintenant je vis et je meurs. ~ Marcel Schwob, #NFDB
59:Excarnation The process by which religion (and Christianity in particular) is dis-embodied and de-ritualized, turned into a “belief system. ~ James K A Smith, #NFDB
60:Boston's "That is good" is Berlin's "Das ist gut." It's an excellent way to start and leaves the listener thinking, 'Hey, Ich kann do dis.' :D ~ David Sedaris, #NFDB
61:Dis Papa, c'est quoi le ciel?
Un espace sans ligne ni partage
Une grande rêverie une nuite pleine de jour
Qui n'a ni fin ni soif ~ Philippe Claudel,#NFDB
62:…En wat is dit dié? Duitse owner van ʼn boereplaas met ʼn Franse naam waar ʼn Brit gekidnap is. Fucking United Nations of Crime, dis wat ons nou word. ~ Deon Meyer, #NFDB
63:Smejah se često, podrugljivo vazda,
Prirodi, Bogu, i govorah smelo,
Da onaj koji obličja nam sazda
Učini sramno,kukavičko delo. ~ Vladislav Petkovi Dis,#NFDB
64:Love is the ability to discover similarities in the dis-similar. The audience has a right not to be fooled - even if it insists on being fooled. ~ Theodor Adorno, #NFDB
65:Tell me... what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Dis-moi ce que tu planifies de faire de ta vie si précieuse, et si excitante! ~ ONE,#NFDB
66:He said not 'Thou shalt not be tempested, thou shalt not be travailed, thou shalt not be dis-eased'; but he said, 'Thou shalt not be overcome. ~ Julian of Norwich, #NFDB
67:Un jour, je te le dis, on ne verra plus de mexicains traverser la frontière...
-Et les Américains s'enfuiront au Mexique! répondit Jende. (p. 360) ~ Imbolo Mbue,#NFDB
68:we find people who are dependent on something outside of themselves in order to have an identity. These are examples of the dis-ease of co-dependence. ~ John Bradshaw, #NFDB
69:« Par ma foi ! il y a plus de quarante ans que je dis de la prose sans que j'en susse rien, et je vous suis le plus obligé du monde de m'avoir appris cela. » ~ Moli re, #NFDB
70:People will often say "You can't change other people." My research shows this societal belief is not only dis-empowering, it is scientifically false. ~ Michelle Gielan, #NFDB
71:Be willing for purpose; it pays huge returns on investment. And along the journey, those who dis your willing sacrifice(s) will ponder their own foolishness. ~ T F Hodge, #NFDB
72:Dis love! Dat’s just whut’s got us uh pullin’ and haulin’ and sweatin’ and doin’ from can’t see in de mornin’ till can’t see at night." Nanny to Janie ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
73:Attention leads to connection, connection to regulation, regulation to order, and order to ease (as opposed to dis-ease), or, more colloquially, to health. ~ Jon Kabat Zinn, #NFDB
74:Dis ain’t no business proposition, and no race after property and titles. Dis is uh love game. Ah done lived Grandma’s way, now Ah means tuh live mine. ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
75:- Restons amis !
Cette phrase était vraiment pire que tout.
- Je suis sûre qu'une fée meurt à chaque fois qu'on prononce ces mots quelque part, dis-je. ~ Kerstin Gier,#NFDB
76:Don’t tolerate any form of average. Don’t accept Dis-excellence. Don’t stand for mediocre. If you’re going to settle, then please settle for the absolute best. ~ Robin Sharma, #NFDB
77:L'Envoy
I t'ink for dis Canadian lan'
For mak' it t'rive an' grow,
De bes' ees Wilfrid Laurier's smile,
De wors' de Tupper blow.
~ Alexander MacGregor Rose,#NFDB
78:Je dis la folie, et non point la démence. La démence est la perte des facultés intellectuelles. La folie n'est qu'un usage bizarre et singulier de ces facultés. ~ Anatole France, #NFDB
79:Tout ce qu'on adore est cadavre, sauf Dieu [...]. C'est pourquoi je dis: mon corps est mort, ma voix est morte; toute science est cadavre, toute oeuvre est un cadavre ~ Ren Daumal, #NFDB
80:All my days I have done evil. Knowing godhood thrice, no man can endure wholly sane. At one period of my existence I was Dionysius; at another, Dis; at a third, Ares. ~ Russell Kirk, #NFDB
81:Ne dis pas ces choses, répétait-elle, car je n'aurais plus la force de te quitter, je resterais là... Donne moi du courage plutôt; dis-moi que nous nous verrons encore... ~ mile Zola, #NFDB
82:Ah ! Vous dirai-je maman
Ce qui cause mon tourment?
Papa veut que je raisonne
Comme une grande personne
Moi je dis que les bonbons
Valent mieux que la raison. ~ Anonymous,#NFDB
83:My kids are not interested in anything I do. And I mean that not in any dis to my children or dis to me. My kids have their own life, they could give a sh*t what I do. ~ Jamie Lee Curtis, #NFDB
84:Je vais te dire pourquoi je suis "serein", comme tu dis. Parce que l'on ne peut pas tout vivre, alors l'important est de vivre l'essentiel et chacun de nous a "son essentiel". ~ Marc Levy, #NFDB
85:Dis Papa, c'est quoi le mal?
C'est la bêtise des hommes qui parfois vont se perdre
Dans de sentiers de pierre
Et prennent des cailloux pour les lancer en l'air ~ Philippe Claudel,#NFDB
86:Je voudrais pas crever
Avant d'avoir usé
Sa bouche avec ma bouche
Son corps avec mes mains
Le reste avec mes yeux
J'en dis pas plus faut bien
Rester révérencieux ~ Boris Vian,#NFDB
87:...you know what quotes like that are called in the real world? they're called bullshit. they're called perjury, hearsay, impeaching a witness, slander, dis-fucking-respect. ~ Patricia Cornwell, #NFDB
88:I don't want to dis anybody, but someone like Robert Parker. I first read a Spenser book maybe 20 years ago and then read every one that came out. I did that with Tony Hillerman too. ~ Dave Barry, #NFDB
89:Some boy nuh know dis, dem only come around like tourist. On the beach with a few club sodas. Bedtime stories, and pose like dem name Chuck Norris and don't know the real hardcore. ~ Damian Marley, #NFDB
90:It’s the negative thought patterns that produce uncomfortable, unrewarding experiences with which we’re concerned. It’s our desire to change our dis-ease in life into perfect health. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
91:Madelyne, I would like to speak to you in private after dinner." "Speak to me about what?" Madelyne demanded with a disgruntled look. "Men and their horses," Duncan told her ~ Julie Garwood, #NFDB
92:Quel homme n'a jamais transgressé Ta loi, dis?
Une vie sans péché, quel goût a-t-elle, dis?
Si Tu punis le mal que je fais par le mal,
Quelle est le différence entre Toi et moi, dis? ~ Omar Khayy m,#NFDB
93:One who will not accept solitude, stillness and quiet recurring moments...is caught up in the wilderness of addictions; far removed from an original state of being and awareness. This is 'dis-ease. ~ T F Hodge, #NFDB
94:On ne peut pas chanter comme ça, uniquement pour faire plaisir à l'autre, aussi cher soit-il, non, le chant doit venir du cœur, voilà ce que je dis toujours, couler de source, comme des merles. ~ Samuel Beckett, #NFDB
95:I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no dis-advantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. ~ Mahatma Gandhi, #NFDB
96:In quixotically trying to conquer death doctors all too frequently do no good for their patients' ease but at the same time they do harm instead by prolonging and even magnifying patients' dis-ease. ~ Jack Kevorkian, #NFDB
97:Now we sing dis stupid song! Sing it as we run along! Why we sing dis we don’t know! We can’t make der words rhyme prop’ly!” “Sound off!” “One! Two!” “Sound off!” “Many! Lots!” “Sound off!” “Er…what? ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
98:Toute maladie, presque sans exception, peut céder à l’autosuggestion, si hardie et si invraisemblable que puisse paraître mon affirmation ; je ne dis pas cède toujours, mais peut céder, ce qui est différent. ~ mile Cou, #NFDB
99:« Comment ai-je pu laisser les apparences dicter ma vie à ce point-là? On dit souvent qu'« il faut sauver les apparencez ». Moi je dis qu'il faut les assassiner car c'est le sen moyen d'être sauvé. » ~ Fr d ric Beigbeder, #NFDB
100:Egan. Watse naam is Egan? Hoe kom jy op daai een? Hoe kyk jy vir hierdie baby, jou laaitie, en sê, 'nooit, dis 'n Egan'. Klink soos die naam van 'n alien in die Spielberg movie. Fokken Egan... Egan the Vegan ~ Deon Meyer, #NFDB
101:I accept perfect health as the natural state of my being. I now consciously release any mental patterns within me that could express as dis-ease in any way. Perfect health is my Divine right, and I claim it now. ~ Louise Hay, #NFDB
102:Moi je suis comme un cerf-volant, si quelqu’un ne tient pas la bobine, pfft, je m’envole… Et toi, c’est drôle, je me dis souvent que tu es assez fort pour me retenir et assez intelligent pour me laisser filer… ~ Anna Gavalda, #NFDB
103:This is how all social, ideological, or religious movements police their members-by making clear that agreement will be rewarded with greater social standing and support, and dis-agreement punished with ostracism. ~ Max Boot, #NFDB
104:Someone else has to be disseminating it. (Mark) Dis-a what? (Nick) Disseminating. It means distributing it. (Mark) Then why didn’t you say that? (Nick) Remind me to get him a word-of-the-day calendar. (Mark) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon, #NFDB
105:Anyone wishing to affect events must be opportunist to some extent. The real distinction is between those who adapt their purposes to reality and those who seek to mold reality in the light of their purposes. ~ Henry Kissinger, #NFDB
106:There is one class to whom reflection is a fault; is not only a fault, is a sin; is not only a sin, is an atrocity - who cannot bear to exist without their own existence dis-existencing somebody else's existence. ~ Dale Pendell, #NFDB
107:En vérité, je vous dis qu'un riche entrera difficilement dans le royaume des cieux; et je vous le dis encore: Il est plus facile qu'un chameau entre par un trou d'aiguille, qu'un riche n'entre dans le royaume de Dieu. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
108:Today, I find health in my illness. Today, I find well-being at the core of my dis-ease. I accept the condition unexpectedly thrust upon me. With this new landmark, I find my spiritual bearings and greater growth. ~ Julia Cameron, #NFDB
109:Tu dis que tu aimes les fleurs et tu leur coupes la queue, tu dis que tu aimes les chiens et tu leur mets une laisse, tu dis que tu aimes les oiseaux et tu les mets en cage, tu dis que tu m’aimes alors moi j’ai peur. ~ Jean Cocteau, #NFDB
110:It is also why there is so little tolerance for substantive dis- sent, or fundamental critique, in America. Since our identity is in fact quite brittle, we have to be constantly telling ourselves how fabulous we are. ~ Morris Berman, #NFDB
111:- Athos, c'est votre femme, vous dis-je, répétait d'Artagnan, ne vous rappelez-vous donc pas comme les deux signalements se ressemblent ?
- J'aurais cependant cru que l'autre était morte, je l'avais si bien pendu. ~ Alexandre Dumas,#NFDB
112:-Je pense qu'on doit aimer la vie par-dessus tout.
-Aimer la vie, plutôt que le sens de la vie?
-Certainement. L'aimer avant de raisonner, sans logique, comme tu dis; alors seulement on en comprendra le sens. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky,#NFDB
113:After Donald Trump wrote Lindsey Graham's cellphone number on a piece of paper and showed it to everybody, Graham said he's getting a new phone. Which explains Lindsey Graham's latest campaign slogan, 'New phone, who dis?' ~ Jimmy Fallon, #NFDB
114:Someone else has to be disseminating it. (Mark)
Dis-a what? (Nick)
Disseminating. It means distributing it. (Mark)
Then why didn’t you say that? (Nick)
Remind me to get him a word-of-the-day calendar. (Mark) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,#NFDB
115:Trauma is the great masquerader and participant in many maladies and “dis-eases” that afflict sufferers. It can perhaps be conjectured that unresolved trauma is responsible for a majority of the illnesses of modern mankind. ~ Peter A Levine, #NFDB
116:Les orages,les brumes, la neige, quelquefois ça t'embêtera. Pense alors à tous ceux qui ont connu ça avant toi, et dis toi simplement : ce que d'autres ont réussi, on peut toujours le réussir." le camarade Guillaumet ~ Antoine de Saint Exup ry, #NFDB
117:Resentment that is long held can eat away at the body and become the dis-ease we call cancer. Criticism as a permanent habit can often lead to arthritis in the body. Guilt always looks for punishment, and punishment creates pain. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
118:You don't understand my dis-mounting. It's like climbing a mountain. Would you rather climb the mountain or have a helicopter deposit you on the top? The continual climb, the continual remounting, makes it a richer experience, and so on. ~ Tom Wolfe, #NFDB
119:Dis Buk wil tel de store of de Burning, and of whi Each 80 yers Men hay to hid from Wind and Se and Ski. And how de first. Men first went Nord to fie de Burning Sun, And whi God rids de Wrld of Lif when Lif has jus begun. —Godbuk 1, 1, 1-4 ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
120:Perhaps I'd been a slow developer, but I was well into my forties before I realized that you don't have to comply with a request just because it's reasonable or reasonably put. Age is the great dis-obliger. You can be yourself and say no. ~ Ian McEwan, #NFDB
121:Take us to the guildhouse of Pasha Pook,” Drizzt said, getting to the point, wanting to be done with his business and out of Calimport, “then you are dismissed.” Sali Dalib paled at the request. “Pasha Poop?” he stammered. “Who is dis? ~ R A Salvatore, #NFDB
122:The structural unity of the parts is such that, if any one of them is displaced or removed, the whole will be disjointed and disturbed. For a thing whose presence or absence makes no visible difference is not an organic part of the whole. ~ Aristotle, #NFDB
123:C’est la nature, dis-tu, qui me donne tous ces biens. Ne vois-tu pas qu’en parlant ainsi tu ne fais que changer le nom de Dieu ? La nature est-elle autre chose que Dieu et la raison divine, incorporée au monde entier et à chacune de ses parties ? ~ Seneca, #NFDB
124:DIS ... DIS ... DIS ... it was a word it was a planet and the word thundered like a drum a drum the sound of its thunder surrounded and was a wasteland a planet of death a planet where living was dying and dying was very better than living DIS ~ Harry Harrison, #NFDB
125:The way I think I should stay out of trouble is by stayin' busy. With idle time comes a lot of biz, so the more my work load is heavy, I'll have no time to get into any trouble or makin' dis tracks or get into conversation about any other rappers. ~ Gucci Mane, #NFDB
126:Comfort is not the objective in a visionary company. Indeed, visionary companies install powerful mechanisms to create /dis/comfort--to obliterate complacency--and thereby stimulate change and improvement /before/ the external world demands it. ~ James C Collins, #NFDB
127:Je dis seulement qu'il y a sur cette terre des fléaux et des victimes et qu'il faut, autant qu'il est possible, refuser d'êre avec le fléau. Cela vous paraîra peut-être un peu simple, et je ne sais si cela est simple, mais je sais que cela est vrai. ~ Albert Camus, #NFDB
128:(..)Fate has always been a potent force in Russia, where, for generations, citizens have had little control over their own destinies. Fate can be a bitch, but, as Zaitsev, Dvornik, and Onofrecuk had discovered, it can also be a tiger. ~ John Vaillant, #NFDB
129:Dis-lui que la crainte de la souffrance est pire que la souffrance elle-même. Et qu’aucun cœur n’a jamais souffert alors qu’il était à la poursuite de ses rêves, parce que chaque instant de quête est un instant de rencontre avec Dieu et avec l’Éternité. ~ Paulo Coelho, #NFDB
130:Jenka: Iz dis de first time hyu faced down an entire army all by hyuself vit a veapon hyu vasn't sure vos gonna vork?
Gil: Well, yes ...
Jenka: Vell den. Dot's just hyu body bein' all surprized hyu ain't all blowed op and dead! ~ Phil Foglio,#NFDB
131:Did you see her?" the Marid said nervously, looking at her with great dark eyes. "Our daughter. Standing on the Gear. Dis you see her?"
"What?" said September—and then she winked out, like someone blowing out a candle, and all the field was still. ~ Catherynne M Valente,#NFDB
132:All dese governments and dis this and that, these people that say they're here to help, why them say you cannot smoke the herb? Herb... herb is a plant, you know? And when me check it, me can't find no reason. All them say is, 'it make you rebel'. Against what? ~ Bob Marley, #NFDB
133:« Je ne dis pas non, répondit Swann étonné. Ce que je reproche aux journaux, c’est de nous faire faire attention tous les jours à des choses insignifiantes tandis que nous lisons trois ou quatre fois dans notre vie les livres où il y a des choses essentielles. ~ Marcel Proust, #NFDB
134:When our lives are filled with frantic doing, we are generally driven by patterns from the past. Only by learning and practicing the timeless art of being can we dis-identify from and begin to change one-sided complexes and realize deeper and greater awareness. ~ Robert A. Johnson, #NFDB
135:There are two singles I did with Noah Breakfast, ["Talkin Greezy" and "New Phone (Who Dis),"] which was a cool experience. So it's cool either way, I think. It depends on the relationship you have with the other person - not everybody is going to work the same way. ~ Cakes da killa, #NFDB
136:Il répandait la confiance comme une lampe répandait la lumière. " Les orages, la brume, la neige, quelquesfois ça t' embêtera. Pense alors à tous ceux qui connu ça avant toi, et dis-moi toi simplement : ce que d'autres ont réussi, on peut toujours le réussir. ~ Antoine de Saint Exup ry, #NFDB
137:The art of healing, the art of ecstasy, the art of God-consciousness has millions of names in mystic terms. It has to do with rhythm and reality. When the body is in rhythm, there is ease. When the body, or any part of the body goes out of rhythm, there is dis-ease. ~ Harbhajan Singh Yogi, #NFDB
138:Oh shit did you just dis the feminine gender
I'll pummel your ass then stick you in a blender
You think I like Tori and Ani so I can't rhyme
But I got flow like Ghostbusters got slime
Objectify women and it's fuckin' on
You'll be dead and gone like ancient Babylon. ~ John Green,#NFDB
139:In truly good writing no matter how many times you read it you do not know how it is done. That is beacause there is a mystery in all great writing and that mystery does not dis-sect out. It continues and it is always valid. Each time you re-read you see or learn something new. ~ Ernest Hemingway, #NFDB
140:Je ne dis pas que l'ambition soit un vice inutile ; elle peut servir à fouetter l'âme. Seulement elle l'épuise. Je ne sache pas de succès qui ne s'achète par un demi-mensonge ; je ne sache pas d'auditeurs qui ne nous forcent à omettre, ou à exagérer quelque chose. (p. 81-82) ~ Marguerite Yourcenar, #NFDB
141:School presents daily exercises in dis-association. It forces unwelcome associations on most of its prisoners. It sets petty, meaningless competitions in motion on a daily basis, pitting potential associates against one another in contests for praise and other worthless prizes. ~ John Taylor Gatto, #NFDB
142:If they wants to see and know, why they don’t come kiss and be kissed? Ah could then sit down and tell ’em things. Ah been a delegate to de big ’ssociation of life. Yessuh! De Grand Lodge, de big convention of livin’ is just where Ah been dis year and a half y’all ain’t seen me. ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
143:Now it's easy for someone to set up a storefront and reach the entire world in very modest ways. So these technologies that we thought would dis-intermediate traditional sellers gave more people the tools to be sellers. It also changed the balance of power between sellers and buyers. ~ Daniel H Pink, #NFDB
144:Le monde ne sait que vous tuer comme un dormeur quand il se retourne le monde, sur vous, comme un dormeur tue ses puces. Voilà qui serait certes mourir bien sottement, que je me dis, comme tout le monde, c'est-à-dire. Faire confiance aux hommes c'est déjà se faire tuer un peu. ~ Louis Ferdinand C line, #NFDB
145:Under chronic stress, your body is more apt to enter a state of dis-ease. Unable to achieve its natural balance, it can’t function the way it should. The ripple effects can be profound. And yet Western medicine has trained us to focus on symptomsrather than root causes like stress. Page 71 ~ Nick Ortner, #NFDB
146:I have fourteen black wives an' one white, de chiefest one. I would sure enough shoo her away dis minute if you tek her place in my bed tonight, Mama Sam Moon."
Was sex all these people ever thought about? I guess life was short back then, and nobody had much time to waste on anything else. ~ J R Rain,#NFDB
147:Ignorance, which is contented and clumsy, will produce what is imperfect, but not offensive. But ignorance dis contented and dexterous, learning what it cannot understand, and imitating what it cannot enjoy, produces the most loathsome forms of manufacture that can disgrace or mislead humanity. ~ John Ruskin, #NFDB
148:« Maman ! hurle Carmen, en voyant que je partais et que j'avais déjà un pied dehors. Ne t'en va donc pas comme ça ! Laisse-nous quelque chose, en attendant que Lucien trouve du travail ! » « Tout ce que j'peux vous laisser, c'est ça ! » que j'leurs dis , en levant une jambe et en lâchant un pet. ~ Romain Gary, #NFDB
149:Je ne dis les autres, sinon pour d'autant plus me dire. ~ I do not speak the minds of others except to speak my own mind better. ~ Michel de Montaigne, "Of the Education of Children" (1575) ~ Variant: Je ne cite les autres que pour mieux exprimer ma pensée. ~ I quote others only the better to express myself., #NFDB
150:With increasing frequency in recent times, people have confused privileges with rights, objectivity with subjectivity, wishing with willing, wanting with needing, price with value, affluence with fulfillment, reality with appearance, and sameness with equality. Not to mention dis-ease with disease. ~ Lou Marinoff, #NFDB
151:Aux jeunes, je dis: regardez autour de vous, vous y trouverez les thèmes qui justifient votre indignation — le traitement faits aux immigrés, aux sans-papiers, aux Roms. Vous trouverez des situations concrètes qui vous amènent à donner cours à une action citoyenne forte. Cherchez et vous trouverez! ~ St phane Hessel, #NFDB
152:Any artistic achievement that is tailored to conform to social demands rather than to the real, uninhibited, feelings of its creator, is destined not to reach the heights of achievement, or even fail. It is only when an artist is dis-inhibited that he or she can reach the heights of artistic achievement. ~ Semir Zeki, #NFDB
153:Dis nie net die dooies wat in jou inweek en deel van jou word nie: dis almal, elke enkele een met wie jy 'n entjie pad saamreis; elkeen gee af aan jou, jy aan hulle. Nooit is dit net jy en jy alleen nie. Nooit gebeur iets net NOU nie. Altyd sleep dit slierte saam. Altyd suig dit by voorbaat al die toekoms in. ~ Andr Brink, #NFDB
154:Dis-moi, rose, d'où vient
qu'en toi-même enclose,
ta lente essence impose
à cet espace en prose
tous ces transports aérien?
Combien de fois cet air
prétend que les choses le trouent,
ou, avec une moue,
il se montre amer.
Tandis qu'autour de ta chair,
rose, il fait la roue. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,#NFDB
155:Ye’re a scholar — that’s easy to see, for a’ ye’re sae plain spoken. It dis a body’s hert guid to hear a man ‘at un’erstan’s things say them plain oot i’ the tongue his mither taucht him. Sic a ane ‘ill gang straucht till’s makker, an’ fin’ a’thing there hame-like. Lord, I wuss minnisters wad speyk like ither fowk! ~ George MacDonald, #NFDB
156:How do I know I’m in love if I don’t want to kill myself all the time? Mavis is the nicest person I’ve ever met, and it was hard to recognize I was in love with her because she never let so much time elapse between “hey wats up winky-face emoji” texts that I had deleted her number and had to respond, “NEW PHONE WHO DIS. ~ Samantha Irby, #NFDB
157:Oh, they’ll be punished.” Amaranthe smiled and pointed at the heretofore silent Sicarius.
“Pa here, he’s the farm dis-ci-pli-nar-i-an. He was a soldier and he knows how to lay into a man an’ make him wish he’d never thunk of running off. Ain’t that right, Pa?” She smiled up at Sicarius.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “Ma. ~ Lindsay Buroker,#NFDB
158:Mon aujourd’hui est si différent de chacun de mes hier, avec mes phases d’ascension et mes chutes, qu’il me semble avoir vécu non pas une existence, mais plusieurs, en tout point dissemblables. Car il m’arrive souvent, quand je dis sans y prendre garde : « Ma vie », de me demander involontairement : « Laquelle de mes vies ? » ~ Stefan Zweig, #NFDB
159:If Jupiter was in the ascendant when you were born, you are of a jovial disposition; and if you're not jovial but miserable and saturnine that's a disaster, because a disaster is a dis-astro, or misplaced planet. Disaster is Latin for ill-starred.
The fault, as Shakespeare put it, is not in our stars; but the language is. ~ Mark Forsyth,#NFDB
160:As an automobile needs premium fuel to operate well, our bodies need real, fresh food to maintain health. Packaged food creates dis-ease. There’s no nourishment in it. The body can only handle it for so long. Then, when you do have a problem, you usually take an over-the-counter or prescription drug. This is another form of poison. ~ Louise Hay, #NFDB
161:They thought we were just basically keeping ourselves underground on purpose. And it was just strange for people to approach music that way. And for rap, trying to get recognition, and be seen as a regular form of music like anything else. I mean, the Soul, R&B, Rock 'N Roll, they would dis the hell out of rap when it first came out. ~ Ice Cube, #NFDB
162:We cry ’cause we slave. In night time we cry, we say we born and raised to be free people and now we slave. We doan know why we be bring ’way from our country to work lak dis. It strange to us. Everybody lookee at us strange. We want to talk wid de udder colored folkses but dey doan know whut we say. Some makee de fun at us. ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
163:I remain
convinced as well by what I called the point zero argument: Those who would dis-
miss our human power to initiate actions have denied many of the very actions and
effects to which they appeal when seeking to lay individual responsibility at the feet
of others. They both assume and deny personal agency. ~ Lenn Evan Goodman,#NFDB
164:This disease of being “busy” (and let’s call it what it is, the dis-ease of being busy, when we are never at ease) is spiritually destructive to our health and wellbeing. It saps our ability to be fully present with those we love the most in our families, and keeps us from forming the kind of community that we all so desperately crave. ~ Omid Safi, #NFDB
165:il étouffe - le monde se couche sur lui - et l’étouffe - il est prisonnier - coincé par ses promesses …
on lui demande des comptes …
En face de lui …
une machine à compter - une machine à écrire des lettres d’amour - une machine à souffrir - le saisit …
s’accroche à lui …
Pierre dis-moi la vérité ~ Jacques Pr vert,#NFDB
166:[...] nothing comes from comfort but the fear of losing it, and that's exactly where my generation made its big mistake. Yet discomfort's no good either. There's just no winning, is there? Do it one way and lose your soul; do it the other way and lose your livelihood. You guys who run the world, you've got all the bases covered. ~ Duke Haney, #NFDB
167:- Alors, ce que je dis, c'est que le cancer, c'est rien, Rakel. Tu vas mourir de honte aussi, et je te promets que ce sera pire que tout. Je veillerai personnellement à ce que toutes les saloperies que t'as faites soient étalées au grand jour, et que ce soit là tout le souvenir que tu laisseras. Tu vas crever dans ta propre merde. ~ David Lagercrantz, #NFDB
168:But you'll see producers and theatre owners with a billion dollars worth of theaters come in here for lunch and you know why? Because it's cheap. You see those pictures on the wall? All young actors and actresses who you will never hear about in your life... And when 'dis place is gone, the entire Broadway will slide into the East River. ~ Neil Simon, #NFDB
169:Freeman denied the claim that he was a “man of God”, saying that “the question of faith is whatever you actually believe is. We take a lot of what we're talking about in science on faith; we posit a theory, and until it's dis-proven we have faith that it's true. If the mathematics work out, then it's true, until it's proven to be untrue. ~ Morgan Freeman, #NFDB
170:The implications are enormous – not just to corporations, but to governments as well. If everything can be dis-intermediated and decentralized, what about the services governments provide – healthcare, welfare and education? The bureaucratic middleman megalith that makes them so inefficient and expensive could be circumvented altogether. ~ Dominic Frisby, #NFDB
171:The Chinese traditionally have revered age and longevity - I have one and hope for the other! - so, in Taipei, a city-hub for global Chinese who dis-identify with the People's Republic of China's construction of a Communist nationalist Chineseness, I called on the Chinese muse of writing to witness my emergence out of the academic woods. ~ Shirley Geok lin Lim, #NFDB
172:It’s easy to see when our kids aren’t integrated—they become overwhelmed by their emotions, confused and chaotic. They can’t respond calmly and capably to the situation at hand. Tantrums, meltdowns, aggression, and most of the other challenging experiences of parenting—and life—are a result of a loss of integration, also known as dis-integration. ~ Daniel J Siegel, #NFDB
173:Je pense à Dora Bruder. Je me dis que sa fugue n'était pas aussi simple que la mienne une vingtaine d'années plus tard, dans un monde redevenu inoffensif. Cette ville de décembre 1941, son couvre-feu, ses soldats, sa police, tout lui était hostile et voulait sa perte. A seize ans, elle avait le monde entier contre elle, sans qu'elle sache pourquoi. ~ Patrick Modiano, #NFDB
174:Mais dans quelque ville que vous soyez entrés et qu'on ne vous reçoive pas, sortez dans ses rues et dites: La poussière même de votre ville, qui s'est attachée à nos pieds, nous la secouons contre vous; mais sachez ceci, que le royaume de Dieu s'est approché. Je vous dis que le sort de Sodome sera plus supportable en ce jour-là que celui de cette ville-là. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
175:My films are intended as polemical statements against the American 'barrel down' cinema and its dis-empowerment of the spectator. They are an appeal for a cinema of insistent questions instead of false (because too quick) answers, for clarifying distance in place of violating closeness, for provocation and dialogue instead of consumption and consensus. ~ Michael Haneke, #NFDB
176:Peace is not so much a political mandate as it is a shared state of consciousness that remains elevated and intact only to the degree that those who value it volunteer their existence as living examples of the same... Peace ends with the unraveling of individual hope and the emergence of the will to worship violence as a healer of private and social dis-ease. ~ Aberjhani, #NFDB
177:At the root of Spanglish is a very universal state of being. It is a dis placement from one place, home, to another place, home, in which feels at home in both places, Yet at home in neither place. It is a kind of banging-one's-head-against-the-wall state, and the only choice you have left is to embrace the transitory (read transnatiknal) state of in-between. ~ Ed Morales, #NFDB
178:[C]hange comes first and foremost from the process of paying meticulous attention to a thought. When we do, we have a greater chance of separating from it, a process that I call dis-identification. This means that we may continue to have the thought but realize that it is only a thought, that is a neurological-biochemical event: it is not who we are. ~ Judith Hanson Lasater, #NFDB
179:I swear, they need to make an app for Facebook that has little electrodes hooked up to our private parts, so when we see some idiot spouting off about something he really doesn’t know jack shit about, as soon as we reach for the keyboard, it sends 110 volts coursing through our dis-functioning erectiles, or better yet, through HIS, before he posts it to begin with. ~ Steve Bivans, #NFDB
180:I got a chance to be in a society where the barriers between classes - social and economic - are not insuperable, where money is not everything all the time. Americans have been manipulated into a space by those who profit from the arrangements of that system. People feel a conscious disease - a dis-ease or an unease - but I don't think they know what causes it. ~ Randall Robinson, #NFDB
181:Je pense, lui dis-je, que nous voilà, tous tant que nous sommes, à manger et à boire pour conserver notre précieuse existence et qu’il n’y a rien, rien, aucune raison d’exister… L’autodidacte répondit que la vie a un sens si on veut bien lui en donner un. Il faut d’abord agir, se jeter dans une entreprise. Il y a un but, Monsieur, il y a un but… il y a les hommes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
182:Pee-poo are like dis, Rachel had told me once, putting the peachy-pink Crayola that used to be called Flesh into my hand. As if all the flesh that mattered was that color. That crayon was called Peach now, but the ideas behind its old name were still alive and present. Present everywhere, all across the country, but more overt in Birchville. I wouldn’t raise Digby ~ Joshilyn Jackson, #NFDB
183:Rather than being medicalized or romanticized, mental disorders, or mental dis-eases, should be understood as nothing less or more than what they are, an expression of our deepest human nature. By recognizing their traits in ourselves and reflecting upon them, we may be able both to contain them and to put them to good use. This is, no doubt, the highest form of genius. ~ Neel Burton, #NFDB
184:Je ne dis pas que la fille de Constantine était née blanche comme neige ; je veux seulement montrer que l'amour que Constantine avait pour moi est né de l'absence de cette enfant. c'est peut-être à cela qu'il devait d'être si unique, si profond. Peu importe que je sois blanche. Elle voulait que sa fille lui soit rendue, je voulais que maman ne soit pas déçue par moi. ~ Kathryn Stockett, #NFDB
185:Maintenant messieurs, je veux vous raconter, que cela vous plaise ou non, pourquoi je n'ai même pas pu devenir un insecte. Je vous le dis avec solennité : j'ai voulu devenir un insecte à de nombreuses reprises. Et, même là, je n'ai pas eu l'honneur. Je vous assure, messieurs : avoir une conscience trop développée, c'est une maladie, une maladie dans le plein sens du terme. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky, #NFDB
186:Je fus encore une fois surprise par la vue de mon visage dans la glace: il n'avait rien à voir avec mes décombres. Ce n'était pas un visage de vaincu. Marqué par la fatigue, mais au fond des yeux il restait encore quelque chose. Je ne dis pas : quelque chose d'invincible. Et pourtant, peut-être y a-t-il invincibilité. Les hommes oublient toujours que ce qu'ils vivent n'est pas mortel. ~ Romain Gary, #NFDB
187:- M’sieur Ibrahim, quand je dis que c’est un truc de gens riches, le sourire, je veux dire que c’est un truc pour les gens heureux.
- Eh bien, c’est là que tu te trompes. C’est sourire, qui rend heureux.
[- M. Ibrahim, when I say a smile is a rich people thing, I mean it's a happy people thing.
- Well, that's where you're wrong. Smiling is what makes you happy.] ~ ric Emmanuel Schmitt,#NFDB
188:Pour le voir, il faut bien regarder, chercher. Je dis aux jeunes: cherchez un peu, vous allez trouver. La pire des attitudes est l'indifférence, dire «je n'y peux rien, je me débrouille». En vous comportant ainsi, vous perdez l'une des composantes essentielles qui fait l'humain. Une des composantes indispensables: la faculté d'indignation et l'engagement qui en est la conséquence. ~ St phane Hessel, #NFDB
189:Man and his deed are two distinct things. Whereas a good deed should call forth approbation and a wicked deed dis-approbation, the doer of the deed, whether good or wicked always deserves respect or pity as the case may be. Hate the sin and not the sinner is a precept which though easy enough to understand is rarely practised, and that is why the poison of hatred spreads in the world. ~ Mahatma Gandhi, #NFDB
190:— Sire, désormais je t’ai parlé de toutes les villes que je connais. — Il en reste une dont tu ne parles jamais. Marco Polo baissa la tête. — Venise, dit le Khan. Marco sourit. — Chaque fois que je fais la description d’une ville, je dis quelque chose de Venise. — Quand je t’interroge sur d’autres villes, je veux t’entendre parler d’elles. Et de Venise, quand je t’interroge sur Venise. ~ Italo Calvino, #NFDB
191:Entre
Ce que je pense,
Ce que je veux dire,
Ce que je crois dire,
Ce que je dis,
Ce que vous avez envie d'entendre,
Ce que vous croyez entendre,
Ce que vous entendez,
Ce que vous avez envie de comprendre,
Ce que vous croyez comprendre,
Ce que vous comprenez...
il y a dix possibilités qu'on ait des difficultés à communiquer. Mais essayons quand même... ~ Bernard Werber,#NFDB
192:If Jesus were to ask me, as He did that poor demoniac in the Gospel: "What is your name?" I too would have to reply: "My name is legion, for there are many of us" (Mk 5:9). There are as many of us as there are desires, plans and regrets which we harbor, each one different from and contrary to others which pull us in opposite directions. They literally dis-tract us, drag us apart. ~ Raniero Cantalamessa, #NFDB
193:In contrast to the knowledge that keeps man in a passive quietude, Desire dis-quiets him and moves him to action. Born of Desire, action tends to satisfy it, and can do so only by the 'negation,' the destruction or at least the transformation, of the desired object: to satisfy hunger, for example, the food must be destroyed or, in any case, transformed. Thus all action is 'negating'. ~ Alexandre Kojeve, #NFDB
194:But unfortunately, vampires lost some of their cultural panache, partly because the romantic vampire genre has portrayed so many bloodsuckers as merely harmlessly eccentric. This isn't to dis the romantic vampire—it's a trope for a reason—but the trope started to occupy the majority of headspace in fans’ minds. People forgot that vampires, as cool and sexy as they might sometimes be, are monsters. ~ C T Phipps, #NFDB
195:— Il faut être juste, lui dis-je ; il y a des millions
d'hommes qui sont assujetis au travail physique,
— Bien, qu'ils le soient S C'est qu'ils ne savent
pas faire autre chose ; n'importe qui, même un imbécile fini et un malfaiteur, peut s'occuper de travail physique ; ce travail est le propre de l'esclave et du barbare, tandis que le feu sacré
n'est donné qu'à peu de personnes ! ~ Anton Chekhov,#NFDB
196:Dis Manibus
Gustave Flaubert, whose honoured rôle
Was to be scribe to Nero's soul,
And make French flesh to creep and crow
O'er Carthaginian Salammbô,
Lies here—in body, as in the brain,
Like Morgue-corpse tumid from the Seine.
What shall be writ above his grave?
Vitellius', Nero's dying stave?
“Fui Imperator,” shall it flow,
Or “Qualis artifex pereo.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,#NFDB
197:A "dis-ease" is simply a name to the respective symptom (or collection of symptoms) that occurs when acids damage the cells of the body (or set in motion an inflammatory response), and a symptom is experienced. Names of "dis-eases" may seem complex but please understand that they are simply: location, location, location! One must alkalize the body to reverse the inflammation and return balance to the body. ~ Robert Morse, #NFDB
198:So we grow up in a sea of stories told in a way that fits what we want others to know about us. The stories told in most families are a kind of propaganda. The tragedy is that often these stories are simply a form of dis-information...
But our families name us without knowing the consequences. So our life is a journey to discover our true name, though; sadly many of us never choose to begin that search. ~ Dan B Allender,#NFDB
199:Et quand vint l'heure du courrier, je me dis ce soir-la comme tous les autres: Je vais recevoir une lettre de Gilberte, elle va me dire enfin qu'elle n'a jamais cessé de m'aimer, et m'expliquera la raison mysterieuse pour laquelle elle a été forcée de ma le cacher jusqu'ici, de faire semblant de pouvoir être heureuse sans me voir, la raison pour laquelle elle a pris l'apparence de la Gilberte simple camarade. ~ Marcel Proust, #NFDB
200:There was a time in South Africa that people would put flaming tires around peoples' necks if they dis-sented. And in some ways the fear is that you will be necklaced here, you will have a flaming tire of lack of patriotism put around your neck. Now it is that fear that keeps journalists from asking the toughest of the tough questions... And again, I am humbled to say, I do not except myself from this criticism. ~ Dan Rather, #NFDB
201:Non. Je ne manque nulle part, je ne laisse pas de vide. Les métros sont bondés, les restaurants comblés, les têtes bourrées à craquer de petits soucis. J'ai glissé hors du monde et il est resté plein. Comme un œuf. Il faut croire que je n'étais pas indispensable. J'aurais voulu être indispensable. A quelque chose ou à quelqu'un. A propos, je t'aimais. Je te le dis à présent parce que ça n'a plus d'importance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
202:The mental thought patterns that cause the most dis-ease in the body are CRITICISM, ANGER, RESENTMENT and GUILT. For instance, criticism indulged in long enought will often lead to dis-eases such as arthritis. Anger turns into things that boil and burn and infect the body. Resentment long held festers and eats away at the self and ultimately can lead to tumors and cancer. Guilt always seeks punishment and leads to pain. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
203:Just let the artist sign an empty canvas or a frame, with the inscription, 'I had such and such a concept in mind' for this work. The artist then need not bother with producing the work, and therefore need not be worried about being dis-satisfied. All he or she needs to do is to sell it to a collector. The collector will have the guarantee that the artist thought about the work, even if momentarily, and therefore be satisfied. ~ Semir Zeki, #NFDB
204:Adam Smith's 'invisible hand' is not above sudden, disturbing, movements. Since its inception, capitalism has known slumps and recessions, bubble and froth; no one has yet dis-invented the business cycle, and probably no one will; and what Schumpeter famously called the 'gales of creative destruction' still roar mightily from time to time. To lament these things is ultimately to lament the bracing blast of freedom itself. ~ Margaret Thatcher, #NFDB
205:[...] Et ma fièvre ? D'où vient-elle ?
- Allons donc, c'est un incident sans conséquence qui passera vite.
- Non, Clawdia, tu sais bien que ce que tu dis là n'est pas vrai, et tu le dis sans conviction, j'en suis sûr. La fièvre de mon corps et le battement de mon cœur harassé et le frissonnement de mes membres, c'est le commencement d'un incident, car ce n'est rien d'autre [...], rien d'autre que mon amour pour toi [...]. ~ Thomas Mann,#NFDB
206:Tantôt je me dis: «Sûrement non! Le petit prince enferme sa fleur toutes les nuits sous son globe de verre, et il surveille bien son mouton...» Alors je suis heureux. Et toutes les étoiles rient doucement.
Tantôt je me dis: «On est distrait une fois ou l'autre, et ça suffit! Il a oublié, un soir, le verre, ou bien le mouton est sorti sans bruit pendant la nuit...» Alors les grelots se changent tous en larmes!... ~ Antoine de Saint Exup ry,#NFDB
207:The sound of running feet indicated that Sergeant Detritus was bringing some of the latest trainees back from their morning run. He could hear the jody Detritus had taught them. Somehow, you could tell it was made up by a troll: “Now we sing dis stupid song! Sing it as we run along! Why we sing dis we don’t know! We can’t make der words rhyme prop’ly!” “Sound off!” “One! Two!” “Sound off!” “Many! Lots!” “Sound off!” “Er…what? ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
208:Mon Dieu, dit-il, ils sont libres... Je veux dire, ce sont des jeunes gens, et le temps pour eux n'a pas d'importance. Pourquoi donc feraient-ils triste figure ? Je me dis quelquefois : être malade et mourir, ce n'est pas sérieux en somme, c'est plutôt une sorte de laisser-aller ; du sérieux, on n'en rencontre à tout prendre que dans la vie de la plaine. Je crois que tu comprendras cela, lorsque tu auras séjourné plus longtemps ici. ~ Thomas Mann, #NFDB
209:- Cass, tu veux bien qu'on réessaie?
Il va sans dire que la plupart des filles se seraient contentées de sourire en pouffant et seraient tombées dans ses bras, et d'ailleurs, je ne demandais pas mieux. Mais il fallait d'abord que je sois sûre de ce dans quoi je m'embarquais.
- Quand tu dis "réessayer", tu sous-entends quoi, au juste?
Will a grimacé en répliquant:
- Tu as déjà envisagé de te lancer dans des études de droit? ~ Keren David,#NFDB
210:Mais moi, qu'ai-je de commun avec ces femmes inconsidérées ? Quand m'avez-vous vue m'écarter des règles que je me suis prescrites, et manquer à mes principes ? Je dis mes principes, et je le dis à dessein : car ils ne sont pas, comme ceux des autres femmes, donnés au hasard, reçus sans examen et suivis par habitude ; ils sont le fruit de mes profondes réflexions ; je les ai crées, et je puis dire que je suis mon ouvrage. ~ Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, #NFDB
211:În sfârșit, aflăm adevărul: bărbații nu sunt oameni, ci extratereștri care ne‑au invadat planeta și au pus stăpânire pe ea. Fiecare bărbat e un fel de Edgar Gândacul, din Men in Black, care mimează stângaci umanitatea, în scopul de a o dis‑ truge.De‑asta și trag atâta de timp sau se fac că uită, când îi rugăm să dea cu insecticid în bucătărie, de‑asta le place atât de mult să meargă în patru labe, de‑asta scapă mereu firimituri și mâncare pe jos ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
212:There had been times, over the past millenium, when he'd felt like sending a message back Below saying, Look, we may as well give up right now, we might as well shut down Dis and Pandemonium and everywhere and move up here, there's nothing we can do to them that they don't do to themselves and they do things we've never even though of, often involving electrodes. They've got what we lack. They've got imagination. And electricity, of course. ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
213:Race stupide et idiote ! Tu te repentiras de te conduire ainsi. C’est moi qui te le dis. Tu t’en repentiras, va ! tu t’en repentiras. Ma poésie ne consistera qu’à attaquer, par tous les moyens, l’homme, cette bête fauve, et le Créateur, qui n’aurait pas dû engendrer une pareille vermine. Les volumes s’entasserons sur les volumes, jusqu’à la fin de ma vie, et, cependant, l’on n’y verra que cette seule idée, toujours présente à ma conscience ! ~ Comte de Lautr amont, #NFDB
214:Jette mon livre; dis-toi bien que ce n'est là qu'une des mille postures possibles en face de la vie. Cherche la tienne. Ce qu'un autre aurait aussi bien fait que toi, ne le fais pas. Ce qu'un autre aurait aussi bien dit que toi, ne le dis pas, -- aussi bien écrit que toi, ne l'écris pas. Ne t'attache en toi qu'à ce que tu sens qui n'est nulle part ailleurs qu'en toi-même, et crée de toi, impatiemment ou patiemment, ah! le plus irremplaçable des êtres. ~ Andr Gide, #NFDB
215:Eliot did to the word love what the Russians did to the word democracy. If Eliot is going to love everybody, no matter what they are, no matter what they do, then those of us who love particular people for particular reasons had better find ourselves a new word." He looked at an oil painting of his deceased wife. "For instance- I loved her more than I love our garbage collector, which makes me guilty of the most unspeakable of modern crimes: Dis-crim-i-nay-tion. ~ Kurt Vonnegut, #NFDB
216:That’s what integration does: it coordinates and balances the separate regions of the brain that it links together. It’s easy to see when our kids aren’t integrated—they become overwhelmed by their emotions, confused and chaotic. They can’t respond calmly and capably to the situation at hand. Tantrums, meltdowns, aggression, and most of the other challenging experiences of parenting—and life—are a result of a loss of integration, also known as dis-integration. ~ Daniel J Siegel, #NFDB
217:Will, was not as taken with the photo of the new baby as the grown ups around him. “It look like Mr. Potato Head.” “I’m sure your baby sister will appreciate that,” Alessandro said with a wry grin. “A girl? It’s a girl?” Will asked with a grimace. “That’s right,” Bree announced as Vanessa and Brian congratulated them. “I can play wif Gianni but what we gonna do wif a girl?” he asked, handing the picture back to them. “Nope, send it back
and get another boy dis time. ~ E Jamie,#NFDB
218:I Know Moonrise
I know moonrise, I know starrise,
Lay dis body down.
I walk in de moonlight, I walk in de starlight,
To lay dis body down.
I walk in de graveyard, I walk through de graveyard,
To lay dis body down.
I'll lie in de grave and stretch out my arms,
To lay dis body down.
I go to de judgement in de evenin' of de day,
When I lay dis body down;
And my soul and your soul will meed in de day
When I lay dis body down.
~ Anonymous Americas,#NFDB
219:And I, the former mystic, was thinking: Yes, man is stronger, greater than God. When Adam and Eve deceived You, You chased them from paradise. When You were displeased by Noah’s generation, You brought down the Flood. When Sodom lost Your favour, You caused the heavens to rain down fire and damnation. But look at these men whom You have betrayed, allowing them to be tortured, slaughtered, gassed, and burned, what do they do? They pray before You! They praise Your name! ~ Elie Wiesel, #NFDB
220:İnsanoğlu, Platon’un mağarasından bir türlü dışarı çıkamamakta, hâlâ eski alışkanlığıyla, gerçeğin imajlarıyla oyalanıp durmaktadır.” Kevin Robins’in ‘İmaj: Görmenin Kültür ve Politikası’ adlı kitabında kullandığı bu cümle günümüz insanının halini çok iyi bir şekilde açıklıyor. Toplumun içerisinde birey olarak kalabilmek ve gerçek olguları kendini tanımlama aracı olarak görmek, ihtiyaç kültürünün simgesi olarak değil de gösteriş kültürüne ait bir kavram olarak karşımıza çıkıyor. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
221:Je ne crois pas qu’en fermant les bordels on prouve qu’on n’est pas soi-même une pute. Lorsque tu condamnes l’avortement du plus haut de ta « morale », comme le fait l’Ordre des médecins, par exemple, tout en sachant qu’un million de bonnes femmes continueront à se faire torturer chaque année clandestinement, eh bien ! je dis que cette « élévation morale »-là, c’est de la bassesse. Cela relève d’une morale-caviar, d’un christianisme sans humilité, sans pitié et qui ignore la chambre de bonne. ~ Romain Gary, #NFDB
222:provoke a challenge from Clovis, the Prince of Blinsk, who was widely known as a master swordsman. And of course, anyone familiar with the history of Dis will know that she got her wish.[5] Why would Shelly deliberately provoke the encounter that was result in her own doom? Perhaps she feared that in her old age, her natural tendencies would overcome her training, or perhaps she had simply decided that she had lived long enough. Either way, far from being proof of Tobalt’s failure, Shelly’s ~ Robert Kroese, #NFDB
223:Dis ’n vroom herfsoggend. Dweperig. Soos Maart is. Sy hou haar voor as somer, maar daar’s ’n winter in haar mou. Sy vang ons nie onkant nie. Ons ken haar so. Sy maak groot bohaai, gooi donder, slaat bliksem, blaas wind en stoot oplaas enkele vermoeiende druppels oor ’n dor Pretoria uit. Daarna speel sy weer somer tot die son sak. Jy weet nie hoe jy dit met haar het nie. Jy hoop vir meer, sprei jou palms oop onder die son, dan kom spoel sy haar voshaarkwas af in jou tuin en beweeg aan. Net so. ~ Steve Hofmeyr, #NFDB
224:L'un des privilèges de l'écriture, pour moi en tout cas, est d'écrire ce qui me passe par la tête, comme je le fais maintenant. Mais, quand je dis " ce qui me passe par la tête", je ne veux pas dire que c'est désordonné. Le processus d'écrire est très mystérieux. Mais ce qui est sûr, c'est qu'il n'est pas désordonné. Il obéit à un ordre qui n'est pas celui du lecteur, c'est tout. Souvent, dans certains genres d'écritures, les plus intéressantes selon moi, cet ordre échappe à l'auteur aussi. ~ Fatema Mernissi, #NFDB
225:It is the ego's purpose that makes everything seem dis-united and like separate events. The constant purpose is the thread that ties all events together. The script is really a continuous thing, rather than discreet events. I did this next and this happened, then I went there. That is the way it is talked about when the mind believes in sequential time and events. But once we get a sense that there is purpose that ties them all together, that is when the fusion between all the events takes place. ~ David Hoffmeister, #NFDB
226:Quelle bouillie, quelle bouillie ! Il faut mettre de l'ordre dans ma tête. Depuis qu'ils m'ont coupé la langue, une autre langue, je ne sais pas, marche sans arrêt dans mon crâne, quelque chose parle, ou quel-qu'un, qui se tait soudain et puis tout recommence ô j'entends trop de choses que je ne dis pourtant pas, quelle bouillie, et si j'ouvre la bou-che, c'est comme un bruit de cailloux remués. De l'ordre, un ordre, dit la langue, et elle parle d'autre chose en même temps, oui j'ai toujours désiré l'ordre !! ~ Albert Camus, #NFDB
227:Il ne s'agit point de t'offusquer de ce que l'un diffère de l'autre, de ce que les aspirations de l'un s'opposent aux aspirations de l'autre, de ce que le langage de l'un ne soit point le langage de l'autre, il s'agît de t'en réjouir. Car si te voilà créateur tu batiras un temple de portée plus haute qui sera leur commune mesure.
Mais je dis aveugle celui-là qui s'imagine créer s'il démonte la cathédrale et aligne dans l'ordre par rang de taille les pierres l'une après l'autre.
(chapitre LXXV) ~ Antoine de Saint Exup ry,#NFDB
228:Create Love in Your Body One of the most common things we think when we’re hit by dis-ease is I’m going to fight this. If you’ve ever thought like this, first of all I want to honour your wish to be healed. But the most important thing I can say is that you don’t want to create a ‘war’ in your body by fighting your dis-ease; you want to love it until it’s gone. Love is the only thing that will eradicate fear, and dis-ease is a product of fear, whether conscious or unconscious, so the way to heal is to create love in your body. ~ Kyle Gray, #NFDB
229:je dis civilisé le peuple qui compose ses danses, malgré qu'il ne soit pour les danses ni récolte ni greniers. Alors que je dis brut le peuple qui aligne sur ses étagères des objets, fussent-ils les plus fins, nés du travail d'autrui, même s'il se montre capable de s'enivrer de leur perfection.
"L'homme, disait mon père, c'est d'abord celui qui crée. Et seuls sont frères les hommes qui collaborent. Et seuls vivent ceux qui n'ont point trouvé leur paix dans les provisions qu'ils avaient faites."
(chapitre IX) ~ Antoine de Saint Exup ry,#NFDB
230:Great literature, obviously, could not rescue anyone from so grievous a fore-shortening of perspective. It was naïve and false on my part to think that the stu-dents would be rescued by Western classics. I knew perfectly well that great books work on our souls only over time, as they are mixed with experience and transformed by memory and desire and many other books, great and small. At some time later, the perception of a ‘choice between freedom and sex’ would dis-solve into absurdity. But for a while, the idea worked its mischief. ~ David Denby, #NFDB
231:Does everyone here grow the way you do?" puffed
Milo when he had caught up.
"Almost everyone," replied Alec, and then he stopped
a moment and thought. "Now and then, though, some-
one does begin to grow differently. Instead of down, his
feet grow up toward the sky. But we do our best to dis-
courage awkward things like that."
"What happens to them?" insisted Milo.
"Oddly enough, they often grow ten times the size
of everyone else," said Alec thoughtfully, "and I've
heard that they walk among the stars. ~ Norton Juster,#NFDB
232:This propaganda of dis-associating Western Negroes from Africa is not a new one. For many years white propagandists have been printing tons of literature to impress scattered Ethiopia, especially that portion within their civilization, with the idea that Africa is a despised place, inhabited by savages, and cannibals, where no civilized human being should go, especially black civilized human beings. This propaganda is promulgated for the cause that is being realized today. That cause is COLONIAL EXPANSION for the white nations of the world. ~ Marcus Garvey, #NFDB
233:Trauma evokes a biological response that needs to remain fluid and adaptive, not stuck and maladaptive. A maladaptive response is not necessarily a disease, but a dis-ease—a discomfort that can range from mild uneasiness to downright debilitation. The potential for fluidity still exists in maladaption, and must be tapped for the restoration of ease and full functioning. If these trapped energies are not allowed to move, and trauma becomes chronic, it can take a great deal of time and/or energy to restore the person to equilibrium and health. ~ Peter A Levine, #NFDB
234:I’ve learned that there are really just two mental patterns that contribute to dis-ease: fear and anger. Anger can show up as impatience, irritation, frustration, criticism, resentment, jealousy, or bitterness. These are all thoughts that poison the body. When we release this burden, all the organs in our body begin to function properly. Fear could be tension, anxiety, nervousness, worry, doubt, insecurity, feeling not good enough, or unworthiness. Do you relate to any of this stuff? We must learn to substitute faith for fear if we are to heal. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
235:The Notion Of Rastus
DERE never was a man on earth
So wonderful or clever,
Dat ever found a way t' live
On dis ole world forever.
Dere never was a man so rich,
Dat didn't have t' go
When ole man Death came after him
An' crooked his finger, so.
An' den dere never was a man
So great, when he was gone
But what dis good ole world of ours
Jes' kep' a-waggin' on.
An' since dis ole world never stops
When famous men depart,
I' ve come t' de conclusion dat
We ain't so awful smart.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,#NFDB
236:In New York—the New York of her own time, at least—they would have been objects of scorn and anger, the butt of every idiot’s crude, cruel jokes: a black woman of twenty-six and her whitebread lover who was three years younger and who had a tendency to talk like dis and dat when he got excited. Her whitebread lover who had been carrying a heavy monkey on his back only eight months before. Here, there was no one to jeer or laugh. Here, no one was pointing a finger. Here, there were only Roland, Eddie, and herself, the world’s last three gunslingers. ~ Stephen King, #NFDB
237:It was a perfectly good word – until Eliot got hold of it. It’s spoiled for me now. Eliot did to the word love what the Russians did to the word democracy. If Eliot is going to love everybody, no matter what they are, no matter what they do, then those of us who love particular people for particular reasons had better find ourselves a new word.’ He looked up at an oil painting of his deceased wife. ‘For instance – I loved her more than I loved our garbage collector, which makes me guilty of the most unspeakable of modern crimes: Dis-crimi-nay-tion. ~ Kurt Vonnegut, #NFDB
238:Tu as été le Merlin de Nnanji-Arthur. Maintenant, tu peux devenir Aristote, Alcuin ou Imhotep – un ami loyal, un conseiller et, parfois, une conscience. Un sorcier à demeure. Le pouvoir dans l'ombre. — M'écoutera-t-il seulement ? — Il le fera la plupart du temps. Je ne dis pas que ce sera facile, mais il sait que tu connais des choses qu'il ne saura jamais – tout comme il peut faire des choses dont tu ne seras jamais capable. — Nnanji et moi ? Comme une épée : la souplesse et le tranchant de la lame ? — Comme le griffon : un lion et un aigle ! Wallie ~ Dave Duncan, #NFDB
239:Mon Visage Est Fletri
Mon visage est flétri des regards du soleil.
Mon pied blanc sous la ronce est devenu vermeil.
J'ai suivi tout le jour le fond de la vallée;
Des bêlements lointains partout m'ont appelée.
J'ai couru: tu fuyais sans doute loin de moi:
C'étaient d'autres pasteurs. Où te chercher, ô toi
Le plus beau des humains? Dis-moi, fais-moi connaître
Où sont donc tes troupeaux, où tu les mènes paître,
Pour que je cesse enfin de courir sur les pas
Des troupeaux étrangers que tu ne conduis pas.
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
240:Quant à moi, maintenant, j'ai fermé mon âme. Je ne dis plus à personne ce que je crois, ce que je pense et ce que j'aime. Me sachant condamné à l'horrible solitude, je regarde les choses, sans jamais émettre mon avis. Que m'importent les opinions, les querelles, les plaisirs, les croyances ! Ne pouvant rien partager avec personne, je me suis désintéressé de tout. Ma pensée, invisible, demeure inexplorée. J'ai des phrases banales pour répondre aux interrogations de chaque jour, et un sourire qui dit "oui", quand je ne veux même pas prendre la peine de parler. ~ Guy de Maupassant, #NFDB
241:To plead the organic causation of a religious state of mind, then, in refutation of its claim to possess superior spiritual value, is quite illogical and arbitrary, unless one has already worked out in advance some psycho-physical theory connecting spiritual values in general with determinate sorts of physiological change. Otherwise none of our thoughts and feelings, not even our scientific doctrines, not even our DIS-beliefs, could retain any value as revelations of the truth, for every one of them without exception flows from the state of its possessor's body at the time. ~ William James, #NFDB
242:To plead the organic causation of a religious state of mind, then, in refutation of its claim to possess superior spiritual value, is quite illogical and arbitrary, unless one have already worked out in advance some psycho-physical theory connecting spiritual values in general with determinate sorts of physiological change. Otherwise none of our thoughts and feelings, not even our scientific doctrines, not even our dis -beliefs, could retain any value as revelations of the truth, for every one of them without exception flows from the state of their possessor's body at the time. ~ William James, #NFDB
243:- Qui aimes-tu le mieux, homme énigmatique, dis? ton père, ta mère, ta soeur ou ton frère?
- Je n'ai ni père, ni mère, ni soeur, ni frère.
- Tes amis?
- Vous vous servez là d'une parole dont le sens m'est resté jusqu'à ce jour inconnu.
- Ta patrie?
- J'ignore sous quelle latitude elle est située.
- La beauté?
- Je l'aimerais volontiers, déesse et immortelle?
- L'or?
- Je le hais comme vous haïssez Dieu.
- Eh! qu'aimes-tu donc, extraordinaire étranger?
- J'aime les nuages... les nuages qui passent... là-bas... là-bas... les merveilleux nuages! ~ Charles Baudelaire,#NFDB
244:Le bronze... (Il le caresse.) Eh bien, voici le moment. Le bronze est là, je le contemple et je comprends que je suis en enfer. Je vous dis que tout était prévu. Ils avaient prévu que je me tiendrais devant cette cheminée, pressant ma main sur ce bronze, avec tous ces regards sur moi. Tous ces regards qui me mangent... (ll se retourne brusquement.) Ha! vous n'êtes que deux? Je vous croyais beaucoup plus nombreuses. (Il rit.) Alors, c'est ça l'enfer. Je n'aurais jamais cru... Vous vous rappelez: le soufre, le bûcher, le gril... Ah! quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril: l'enfer, c'est les Autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
245:L’ Étranger
-Qui aimes-tu le mieux, homme énigmatique, dis? ton père,
ta mère, ta s«ur ou ton frère?
—Je n’ai ni père, ni mère, ni s«ur, ni frère.
—Tes amis?
—Vous vous servez là d’une parole dont le sens m’est resté
jusqu’à ce jour inconnu.
—Ta patrie?
—J’ignore sous quelle latitude elle est située.
—La beauté?
—Je l’aimerais volontiers, déesse et immortelle.
—L’or?
—Je le hais comme vous haïssez Dieu.
—Eh! qu’aimes-tu donc, extraordinaire étranger?
—J’aime les nuages… les nuages qui passent… là-bas… là-bas…
les merveilleux nuages!
~ Charles Baudelaire,#NFDB
246:Dis is uh love game. Ah done lived Grandma’s way, now Ah means tuh live mine.” “What you mean by dat, Janie?” “She was borned in slavery time when folks, dat is black folks, didn’t sit down anytime dey felt lak it. So sittin’ on porches lak de white madam looked lak uh mighty fine thing tuh her. Dat’s whut she wanted for me—don’t keer whut it cost. Git up on uh high chair and sit dere. She didn’t have time tuh think whut tuh do after you got up on de stool uh do nothin’. De object wuz tuh git dere. So Ah got up on de high stool lak she told me, but Pheoby, Ah done nearly languished tuh death up dere. ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
247:Qu'Est Qu'Il Dit'
Espion aile de la jeune amante
De l'ombre des palmiers pourquoi ce cri?
Laisse en paix le beau garcon plaider et vaincrePourquoi, pourquoi demander 'Qu'est qu'il dit?'
'Qu'est qu'il dit?' Ce que tu dis toi-meme
Chaque mois de ce printemps eternel;
Ce que disent les papillons qui s'entre-baisent,
Ce que dit tout bel jeun etre a toute belle.
Importun! Attende quelques lustres:
Quand les souvenirs 1'emmeneront iciMere, grand'mere, pale, lasse, et fidele,
Demande mais doucement-'Et le vieillard,
Qu'est qu'il dit?'
Trinidad, January 10, 1870
~ Charles Kingsley,#NFDB
248:En réalité, je n'avais jamais pensé qu'il pût lire mon livre. L'art incomparable de Johnny. Que pouvais je dire de plus ? Mais c'est peut-être justement à ce tournant qu'il m'attend, à l'affût comme toujours ramassé sur lui-même, prêt à faire un de ces bonds qui risquent toujours de blesser l'un de nous. Honnêtement, que m'importe sa vie ? La seule chose qui m'inquiète c'est qu'en se laissant mener par ce genre d'existence que je ne peux pas suivre, disons que je ne veux pas suivre, il ne finisse par contredire les conclusions de mon livre, par laisser entendre une ou deux fois que sa musique n'est pas ce que je dis. ~ Julio Cort zar, #NFDB
249:Laurel?” His face inches closer. I suck in a breath. This is it—he’s going to kiss me. “Yes?” “Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” “I don’t know what that means,” I say in a breathy whisper. “What are you hopin’ it means?” Our mouths are a sigh apart, the air between us tickling my lips. His powerful chest brushes my breasts and this time, he doesn’t move away. “Say it again.” “Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” His mouth is hot, near my ear, warm breath sending a spark up my middle, dampening my underwear. “Dis oui, s’il te plait.” Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser; dear Lord, I hope it means he wants to kiss me. I hope it means— ~ Sara Ney, #NFDB
250:In other words, Theology is practical: especially now. In the old days, when there was less education and discussion, perhaps it was possible to get on with a very few simple ideas about God. But it is not so now. Everyone reads, everyone hears things discussed. Consequently, if you do not listen to Theology, that will not mean that you have no ideas about God. It will mean that you have a lot of wrong ones — bad, muddled, out-of-date ideas. For a great many of the ideas about God which are trotted out as novelties to-day are simply the ones which real Theologians tried centuries ago and rejected. ~ C S Lewis, #NFDB
251:Non, car cela est secondaire. Mais il met son pouvoir au service d'une passion plus haute et plus mortelle, il nous me-nace dans ce que nous avons de plus profond. Sans doute, ce n'est pas la première fois que, chez nous, un homme dis. po-se d'un pouvoir sans limites, mais c'est la première fois qu'il s'en sert sans limites, jusqu'à nier l'homme et le monde. Voilà ce qui m'effraye en lui et que je veux combattre. Perdre la vie est peu de chose et j'aurai ce courage quand il le faudra. Mais voir se dissiper le sens de cette vie, disparaî-tre notre raison d'exister, voilà ce qui est insupportable. On ne peut vivre sans raison. ~ Albert Camus, #NFDB
252:It was Anthony Marston who disagreed with the majority. 'A bit unsporting, what?' he said. 'Ought to ferret out the mystery before we go. Whole thing's like a detective story. Positively thrilling.' The judge said acidly: 'At my time of life, I have no desire for "thrills," as you call them.' Anthony said with a grin: 'The legal life's narrowing! I'm all for crime! Here's to it.' He picked up his drink and drank it off at a gulp. Too quickly, perhaps. He choked - choked badly. His face contorted, turned purple. He gasped for breath - then slid down off his chair, the glass falling from his hand. ~ Agatha Christie, #NFDB
253:Danglars, mais je ne l'ai plus.– Et vous avez tort, madame. Eh ! mon Dieu ! les chances de la fortune sont précaires, et si j'étais femme, et que le hasard eût fait de cette femme celle d'un banquier, quelque confiance que j'aie dans le bonheur de mon mari, car en spéculation, vous le savez, tout est bonheur et malheur ; eh bien, dis-je, quelque confiance que j'aie dans le bonheur de mon mari, je commencerais toujours par m'assurer une fortune indépendante , dussé-je acquérir cette fortune en mettant mes intérêts dans des mains qui lui seraient inconnues. » Mme Danglars rougit malgré elle. « Tenez, dit Monte-Cristo, comme ~ Alexandre Dumas, #NFDB
254:For the Witness, if he exists, is not the individual embodied mind born in the world, but that cosmic Consciousness embracing the universe and appearing as an immanent Intelligence in all its works to which either world subsists eternally and really as Its own active existence or else from which it is born and into which it disappears by an act of knowledge or by an act of conscious power. Not organised mind, but that which, calm and eternal, broods equally in the living earth and the living human body and to which mind and senses are dis- pensable instruments, is the Witness of cosmic existence and its Lord. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine, 1.03, #NFDB
255:Rule number one is that a map is useless if we don’t know how to orient it correctly. In other words, we can use a map only if we pair it with a compass to tell us where north is. When our map is oriented, the landmarks fall into place and begin to make sense. Only then can we navigate through the wild. Similarly, if we have been carrying around a this-isn’t-quite-right feeling of dis-ease, and we lack a compass to help us orient to where it is coming from, the disconnection can lead to quite a bit of stress. Sometimes the dis-ease and a lack of awareness of its root cause are so maddening that they lead to a quarter-life or midlife crisis. ~ Judson Brewer, #NFDB
256:Eh oui, Léon comprenait, Léon approuvait ce que disait Louise tout simplement parce que c'était elle qui le disait. Il trouvait son rire beau parce que c'était son rire à elle, il aimait son regard qui le scrutait et l'encourageait parce que c'était ses yeux verts à elle qui le regardaient ainsi comme s'ils ne cessaient de lui demander : Dis-moi, c'est bien toi ? Hein, c'est vraiment toi ? Il était transporté par la mèche qui s'égarait sur le front de Louise parce que c'était sa mèche de cheveux à elle, et il ne pouvait s'empêcher de rire de sa pantomime,quand elle imitait le maire allumant sa cigarette, et il riait parce que c'était sa pantomime à elle. ~ Alex Capus, #NFDB
257:QUICK MENTAL RECAP: KIDNAPPED BY Mafia gang ruled by insane, chain-smoking reject from the sixties—female; discover husband has alias name and FBI badge that he’s been able to keep hidden from me for seventeen years (reminder to self: get a clue!); follow half-baked scheme provided by Brad Pitt look-alike to make a quick getaway through guest bathroom; wind up playing bad game of Twister in bathtub with Elvis Presley wannabe; witness the whacking of FBI husband; hear Elvis Presley wannabe proclaim, regarding husband’s whacker: “That’s No Toes” and follow up with obvious comment, “Dis ain’t good.” Would Al Pacino be caught dead in this movie? Definitely not. ~ Karen Cantwell, #NFDB
258:The post-anthropocentric shift away from the hierarchical relations that had privileged ‘Man’ requires a form of estrangement and a radical repositioning on the part of the subject. The best method to accomplish this is through the strategy of de-familiarization or critical distance from the dominant vision of the subject. Dis-identification involves the loss of familiar habits of thought and representation in order to pave the way for creative alternatives. Deleuze would call it an active ‘deterritorialization’. Race and post-colonial theories have also made important contributions to the methodology and the political strategy of de-familiarization (Gilroy, 2005). ~ Rosi Braidotti, #NFDB
259:- T'as pas apporté des fleurs à Irina?
-Offrir des fleurs aux femmes est une hérésie. Les fleurs sont des sexes obscènes, elles symbolisent l'éphémère et l'infidélité, elles s'écartèlent sur le bord des chemins, s'offrent à tous les vents, à la trompe des insectes, aux nuages de graines, aux dents des bêtes; on les foule, on les cueille, on y plonge le nez. A la femme qu'on aime il faudrait offrir des pierres, des fossiles, du gneiss, enfin une de ces choses qui durent éternellement et survivent à la flétrissure.
C'est ce que j'aurai aimé répondre à Volodia mais mon russe est trop faible et je dis:
-Si! mais elles ont fané en route. Le banya, Volodia, tu l'as préparé? ~ Sylvain Tesson,#NFDB
260:Nobody doan never have touch Porhl! When I little, de brudder try. Oh yeah. I raise up dis bony knee hard in his what he got dere, and dat were dat and nobody since! You hear dis gul, Mr. free man Jacob Early? And nobody since! An I ain’t no Jez’bel, she screamed. In this way was Pearl’s decision made, and by the time they were on the march through Milledgeville she was drummer for Clarke’s company. She just hit the drum once every other step and they kept the pace, some with smiles on their faces. She looked straight ahead and kept her shoulders squared against the shoulder straps, but she could tell that white folks watched from the windows. And none of them knew she wasn’t but the drummer boy they saw. ~ E L Doctorow, #NFDB
261:Some of those are over a hundred years old,” Alessandro explained as he unlocked the door. “Dat’s older den you or mommy!” Will said. He stopped and looked at the white marble fountain in the middle of the walkway with a figurine that had water coming out of its mouth and falling into the fountain. He lifted on his tip toes to look inside of the vessel. “Der’s water in der. How come it don’ fall out?” Will asked. Bree pulled out a penny and handed it to him. “Here, make a wish.” Will closed his eyes tight. “I wish for lotsa presents fo’ my berfday,” he announced and tossed in the penny. Bree snorted. “You’re not supposed to say your wish out loud.” “Oh. Okay, gimme nudder one. I say it in my head dis time,” Will said. ~ E Jamie, #NFDB
262:There is within us a fundamental dis-ease, an unquenchable fire that renders us incapable, in this life, of ever coming to full peace. This desire lies at the center of our lives, in the marrow of our bones, and in the deep recesses of the soul. At the heart of all great literature, poetry, art, philosophy, psychology, and religion lies the naming and analyzing of this desire. Spirituality is, ultimately, about what we do with that desire. What we do with our longings, both in terms of handling the pain and the hope they bring us, that is our spirituality . . . Augustine says: ‘You have made us for yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.’ Spirituality is about what we do with our unrest. ~ Ronald Rolheiser, #NFDB
263:Rien n'est impossible, seules les limites de nos esprits définissent certaines choses comme inconcevables. Il faut souvent résoudre plusieurs équations pour admettre un nouveau raisonnement. C'est une question de temps et de limites de nos cerveaux. Greffer un cœur, faire voler un avion de trois cent cinquante tonnes, marcher sur la Lune a dû demander beaucoup de travail, mais surtout de l'imagination. Alors quand nos savants si savants déclarent impossible de greffer un cerveau, de voyager à la vitesse de la lumière, de cloner un être humain, je me dis que finalement ils n'ont rien appris de leurs propres limites, celles d'envisager que tout est possible et que c'est une question de temps, le temps de comprendre comment c'est possible. ~ Marc Levy, #NFDB
264:SHAME AS CODEPENDENCY Much has been written about codependency. All agree that it is about the loss of selfhood. Codependency is a condition wherein one has no inner life. Happiness is on the outside. Good feelings and self-validation lie on the outside. They can never be generated from within. I have come to define codependency as “a dis-ease of the developing self that does not manifest fully until one is in an adult relationship.” There is no significant difference in that definition and the way I have described internalized shame. It is my belief that internalized shame is the essence of codependency, since toxic shame is a rupture of the authentic self that necessitates developing a false self. With a false self, intimacy is impossible. ~ John Bradshaw, #NFDB
265:When everything – not just everything – when the whole existence is included in you, only then you are liberated. In exclusion, you become separate. There are methods of exclusion that lead to ultimate inclusion; that is different. That is the neti, neti, neti process that we are doing – I am not this, I am not this – excluding yourself from everything. Probably the word “exclusion,” in that sense, would be mistaken and misunderstood. It is more about dis-identifying yourself, starting with your clothes, body, house, family, every cell of your body, your ideas, thoughts, education, culture, everything, and saying, “I am not this, I am not this, I am not this.” Once you are dis-identified with everything that is not you, you become all inclusive once again. ~ Sadhguru, #NFDB
266:Plût au ciel que le lecteur, enhardi et devenu momentanément féroce comme ce qu’il lit, trouve, sans se désorienter, son chemin abrupt et sauvage, à travers les marécages désolés de ces pages sombres et pleines de poison ; car, à moins qu'il n’apporte dans sa lecture une logique rigoureuse et une tension d’esprit égale au moins à sa défiance, les émanations mortelles de ce livre imbiberont son âme comme l’eau le sucre. Il n’est pas bon que tout le monde lise les pages qui vont suivre ; quelques-uns seuls savoureront ce fruit amer sans danger. Par conséquent, âme timide, avant de pénétrer plus loin dans de pareilles landes inexplorées, dirige tes talons en arrière et non en avant. Écoute bien ce que je te dis : dirige tes talons en arrière et non en avant. ~ Comte de Lautr amont, #NFDB
267:Une idée terrible me vint : - L’homme est double, me dis-je. - « Je sens deux hommes en moi », a écrit un Père de l’Église. - Le concours de deux âmes a déposé ce germe mixte dans un corps qui lui-même offre à la vue deux portions similaires reproduites dans tous les organes de sa structure. Il y a en tout homme un spectateur et un acteur, celui qui parle et celui qui répond. Les Orientaux ont vu là deux ennemis : le bon et le mauvais génie. - Suis-je le bon ? suis-je le mauvais ? me disais-je. En tout cas, l’autre m’est hostile… Qui sait s’il n’y a pas telle circonstance ou tel âge où ces deux esprits se séparent ? Attachés au même corps tous deux par une affinité matérielle, peut-être l’un est-il promis à la gloire et au bonheur, l’autre à l’anéantissement ou à la souffrance éternelle ? ~ G rard de Nerval, #NFDB
268:You get the feeling from the Bible that being unsettled is almost a normal part of the process. Not that we should go looking for it-- it will find us soon enough-- but struggling in some way seems like something we should expect on our own spiritual journeys. True struggling in faith is a stretching experience, and without it, you don't mature in your faith. You either remain an infant or get cocky. Feeling dis-ease and challenged in faith may be God pushing us out of our own safety zone, where we rest on our own ideas about God and confuse those ideas with the real thing. God may be pushing us to experience him more fully, with us kicking and screaming all the way if need be. Feeling unsettled may be God telling us lovingly, but still in his typical attention-getting manner, it's time to grow. ~ Peter Enns, #NFDB
269:Miri once told me that there were only four important questions you could ask about any human being: How does he fill up his time? How does he feel about how he fills up his time? What does he love? How does he react to those he perceives as either inferior or superior to him?
If you make people feel inferior, even unintentionally," she had said, her dark eyes intense, "they will be uncomfortable around you. In that situation, some people will attack. Some will ridicule, to 'cut you down to size.' But some will admire, and learn from you. If you make people feel superior, some will react by dismissing you. Some by wielding power — just because they can — in greater or lesser ways. But some will be moved to protect and help. All this is just as true of a junior lodge clique as of a group of governments. ~ Nancy Kress,#NFDB
270:St. John,” I said, “I think you are almost wicked to talk so. I am disposed to be as content as a queen, and you try to stir me up to restlessness! To what end?”
“To the end of turning to profit the talents which God has committed to your keeping; and of which He will surely one day demand a strict account. Jane, I shall watch you closely and anxiously—I warn you of that. And try to restrain the disproportionate fervour with which you throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures. Don’t cling so tenaciously to ties of the flesh; save your constancy and ardour for an adequate cause; forbear to waste them on trite transient objects. Do you hear, Jane?”
“Yes; just as if you were speaking Greek. I feel I have adequate cause to be happy, and I will be happy. Goodbye! ~ Charlotte Bront,#NFDB
271:The Fair Singer
To make a final conquest of all me,
Love did compose so sweet an Enemy,
In whom both Beauties to my death agree,
Joyning themselves in fatal Harmony;
That while she with her Eyes my Heart does bind,
She with her Voice might captivate my Mind.
I could have fled from One but singly fair:
My dis-intangled Soul it self might save,
Breaking the curled trammels of her hair.
But how should I avoid to be her Slave,
Whose subtile Art invisibly can wreath
My Fetters of the very Air I breath?
It had been easie fighting in some plain,
Where Victory might hang in equal choice.
But all resistance against her is vain,
Who has th' advantage both of Eyes and Voice.
And all my Forces needs must be undone,
She having gained both the Wind and Sun.
~ Andrew Marvell,#NFDB
272:Je dis seulement qu'il y a sur cette terre des fléaux et des victimes et qu'il faut, autant qu'il est possible, refuser d'être avec le fléau. Cela vous paraîtra peut-être un peu simple, et je ne sais si cela est simple, mais je sais que cela est vrai. J'ai entendu tant de raisonnements qui ont failli me tourner la tête, et qui ont tourné suffisamment d'autres têtes pour les faire consentir à l'assassinat, que j'ai compris que tout le malheur des hommes venait de ce qu'ils ne tenaient pas un langage clair. J'ai pris le parti alors de parler et d'agir clairement, pour me mettre sur le bon chemin. Par conséquent, je dis qu'il y a les fléaux et les victimes, et rien de plus. Si, disant cela, je deviens fléau moi-même, du moins, je n'y suis pas consentant. J'essaie d'être un meurtrier innocent. Vous voyez que ce n'est pas une grande ambition. ~ Albert Camus, #NFDB
273:Je T’indique Le Fruit
Je t'indique le fruit qui m'a rendu malade;
Je te crie en quel lieu, sous la route, est caché
Un abîme, où déjà mes pas ont trébuché.
D'un mutuel amour combien doux est l'empire!
Heureux, et plus heureux que je ne saurais dire,
Deux coeurs qui ne font qu'un, dont la vie et l'amour
N'auront, dans un long temps, qu'un même dernier jour!
Mais bien peu, qu'ont séduits de si douces chimères,
Out fui le repentir et les larmes amères.
O poètes amants! conseillers dangereux,
Qui vantez la douceur des tourments amoureux,
Votre miel déguisait de funestes breuvages;
Sur les rochers d'Eubée, entourés de naufrages,
Allumant dans la nuit d'infidèles flambeaux,
Vous avez égaré mes crédules vaisseaux.
Mais que dis-je? vos vers sont tout trempés de larmes.
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
274:At a friend’s house in Greenwich Village I remember talking of the frustration of trying to find the precise word for one’s thoughts, saying that the ordinary dictionary was inadequate. ‘Surely a system could be devised,’ I said, ‘of lexicographically charting ideas, from abstract words to concrete ones, and by deductive and inductive processes arriving at the right word for one’s thought.’ ‘There is such a book,’ said a Negro truck-driver: ‘Roget’s Thesaurus’ A waiter working at the Alexandria Hotel used to quote his Karl Marx and William Blake with every course he served me. A comedy acrobat with a Brooklyn ‘dis’, ‘dem’ and ‘dose’ accent recommended Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, saying that Shakespeare was influenced by him and so was Sam Johnson. ‘But you can skip the Latin.’ With the rest of them I was intellectually a fellow-traveller. ~ Charlie Chaplin, #NFDB
275:Listen, dis foreign TV channels dey spoil de image of our country. Dese white stations dey make billions of dollars to sell your war and blood to de world… We no bad like dis. OK, why dem no dey show corpses of deir white people during crisis for TV? Abi, people no dey kill for America or Europe?”
“You dey speak grammar!” someone shouted. “Wetin concern us wid America and Europe? Abeg, give us cable TV.”
“Remove dis toilet pictures!” said another.
“So our barracks be toilet now?” the police answered. "What an insult!“
"You na mad mad police,” Monica said.
“Ok, cable TV no be for free anymore!” the police said.
“But it’s our pictures we are watching on cable TV,” Madam Aniema said. “Why should we pay you to see ourselves and our people?”
The police answered, “Because government dey complain say cable TV dey misrepresent dis religious crisis. ~ Uwem Akpan,#NFDB
276:Fishin'-Hunger
BLUE skies mighty temptin', an' the sunbeams coaxin', too,
An' my wo'k is gettin' harder ebery day;
Ain't a-takin' any int'rest in de things I has t' do,
Jes' sittin' heah an' wishin' time away.
Jes' a-wishin' fo' de fishin'
An' de wet line gayly swishin'
As I fling it t' de middle o' de stream,
An' I let it drif' and dribble,
Till I feel de pick'rel nibble,
Dat 's de burden o' my everlastin' dream.
Dere is some folks call it hook worm, an' dere's others say dat I
Am jes' nacherly inclined t' laziness;
An' I aint a-goin' t' quarrel or dispute or argufy,
It's de fishin'-hunger 's got me though, I guess.
Jes' de fishin'-hunger schemin'
An' a-keepin' of me dreamin'
An' a-lurin' me out yonder t' de bay
Where de pick'rel am playin'
An' de willow trees am swayin',
It's de fishin'-hunger makes me act dis way.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,#NFDB
277:Chaque fois que, parlant de mon travail, je versais dans l'ironie et le scepticisme, je pouvais compter sur lui [Hervé] pour me dire, par exemple :
"Tu dis que tu ne crois pas à la résurrection. Mais d'abord tu n'as aucune idée de ce que cela signifie, la résurrection. Et puis, en posant d'entrée cette incroyance, en en faisant un savoir et une supériorité sur les gens dont tu parles, tu t'interdis tout accès à ce qu'ils étaient et croyaient. Méfie-toi de ce savoir-là. Ne commence pas par te dire que tu en sais plus qu'eux. Efforce-toi d'apprendre auprès d'eux au lieu de leur faire la leçon. Ça n'a rien à voir avec la contrainte mentale consistant à essayer de croire quelque chose que tu ne crois pas. Ouvre-toi au mystère, au lieu de l'écarter a priori."
Je protestais, pour la forme. Mais même sans croire en Dieu, je lui ai toujours rendu grâce, à lui et à notre marraine, d'avoir placé Hervé auprès de moi. (p. 392-393) ~ Emmanuel Carr re,#NFDB
278:Il y a un grand intérêt, d’autre part, à marquer la concordance entre les différentes doctrines traditionnelles toutes les fois que l’occasion s’en présente ; mais, en faisant cela, il ne faut jamais oublier qu’il n’y a en Occident, présentement tout au moins, aucune tradition qui ait un caractère purement métaphysique, ni d’ailleurs qui soit métaphysiquement complète ; le premier de ces deux défauts paraît surtout imputable à l’héritage de la mentalité judaïque, le second à celui de la mentalité grecque. Si je dis "présentement", c’est que nous pourrions peut-être envisager les choses autrement s’il nous était possible de mieux connaître tout ce qui a existé au moyen-âge, et dont, malheureusement, la prétendue Renaissance n’a rien laissé subsister ; je ne doute pas qu’il n’y ait eu alors un enseignement traditionnel beaucoup moins extérieur que ce que contiennent tous les écrits qui nous sont parvenus ».
(Lettre du 13 Septembre 1917). ~ Ren Gu non,#NFDB
279:They are beautiful, heart-rendingly beautiful, those wilds, with a quality of wide-eyed, unsung, innocent surrender that my lacquered, toy-bright Swiss villages and exhaustively lauded Alps no longer possess. Innumerable lovers have clipped and kissed on the trim turf of old-world mountainsides, on the innerspring moss, by a handy, hygienic rill, on rustic benches under the initialed oaks, and in so many cabanes in so so many beech forests. But in the Wilds of America the open-air lover will not find it easy to indulge in the most ancient of all crimes and pastimes. Poisonous plants burn his sweetheart's buttocks, nameless insects sting his; sharp items of the forest floor prick his knees, insects hers; and all around there abides a sustained rustle of potential snakes--que dis-je,of semi-extinct dragons!--while the crablike seeds of ferocious flowers cling, in a hideous green crust, to gartered black sock and sloppy white sock alike. ~ Vladimir Nabokov, #NFDB
280:Personne ne sait ce qui s'est passé le jour de Pâques, mais une chose est certaine, c'est qu'il s'est passé quelque chose.
Quand je dis qu'on ne sait pas ce qui s'est passé, j'ai tort. On le sait très bien, seulement selon ce qu'on croit ce sont deux choses différentes et incompatibles. Si on est chrétien, on croit que Jésus est ressuscité : c'est cela, être chrétien. Sinon, on croit ce que croyait Renan, ce que croient les gens raisonnables. Qu'un petit groupe de femmes et d'hommes - les femmes d'abord -, désespérés de la perte de leur gourou, s'est monté le bourrichon, raconté cette histoire de résurrection, et qu'il s'est passé cette chose nullement surnaturelle mais stupéfiante et qu'il vaut la peine de raconter en détail : leur croyance naïve, bizarre, qui aurait normalement dû s'étioler puis s'éteindre avec eux, a conquis le monde au point qu'aujourd'hui encore un quart environ des hommes vivant sur terre la partagent. (p. 341) ~ Emmanuel Carr re,#NFDB
281:- Bardamu, qu'il me fait alors gravement et un peu triste, nos pères nous valaient bien, n'en dis pas de mal !...
- T'as raison, Arthur, pour ça t'as raison ! Haineux et dociles, violés, volés, étripés et couillons toujours, ils nous valaient bien ! Tu peux le dire ! Nous ne changeons pas ! Ni de chaussettes, ni de maîtres, ni d'opinions, ou bien si tard, que ça n'en vaut plus la peine. On est nés fidèles, on en crève nous autres ! Soldats gratuits, héros pour tout le monde et singes parlants, mots qui souffrent, on est nous les mignons du Roi Misère. C'est lui qui nous possède ! Quand on est pas sage, il serre... On a ses doigts autour du cou, toujours, ça gêne pour parler, faut faire bien attention si on tient à pouvoir manger... Pour des riens, il vous étrangle... C'est pas une vie...
- Il y a l'amour, Bardamu !
- Arthur, l'amour c'est l'infini mis à la portée des caniches et j'ai ma dignité moi ! que je lui réponds. ~ Louis Ferdinand C line,#NFDB
282:Roses Et Muguets
Au comte Charles de Montblanc
Dans le vallon qu’arrose
L’eau courante, j’allais
Un jour cueillir la rose,
La rose et les muguets.
Mon amoureux qui n’ose
Rien me dire y passait;
Moi je cueillais la rose,
La rose et le muguet.
Oh! vilain! oh! morose!”
Au nez je lui riais,
Tout en cueillant la rose,
La rose et les muguets.
Sur l’herbe je me pose
En jetant mon bouquet,
Mon beau bouquet de rose,
De rose et de muguet.
Dis-moi donc quelque chose!
Les oiseaux sont plus gais
Gazouillant à la rose
Becquetant les muguets.
N’aye pas peur qu’on glose.
Le lézard fait le guet
Couché sur une rose,
Caché dans le muguet.
Mais sur ma bouche close
Son baiser me narguait.
Tes lèvres sont de rose
Et tes dents de muguet.
135
Le méchant ! Il est cause
(Moi qui tant me moquais!)
Que dans l’eau court ma rose
Ma rose et mes muguets.
~ Charles Cros,#NFDB
283:I Gili Romaneskro
Schunava, ke baschno del a godla,
Schunava Paschomaskro.
Te del miro Dewel tumen
Dschavena Bachtallo.
Schunava opre to ruka
Chiriklo ke gillela:
Kamovela but dives,
Eh'me pale kamaveva.
Apo je wa'wer divesseste
Schunava pro gilaviben,
M'akana me avava,
Pro marzos, pro kuriben.
So korava kuribente,
So korava apre drom;
Me kanav miri romni,
So kamela la lakero rom.
DRANSLATION.
I hear de gock a growin!
I hear de musikant!
Gott gife dee a happy shourney
Vhen you go to a distand landt.
I hears oopon de pranches
A pird mit merry shdrain,
Goot many tays moost fanish
Ere I coom to dis blace again.
Oopon some oder tay-times
I'll hear dat song from dee;
Boot now I goes ash soldier
To war, o'er de rollin sea.
Und vot I shdeals in pattle,
Und vot on de road I shdeal,
130
I'll pring all to my true lofe
Who lofes her lofer so well.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
284:Inscriptions and finds from other parts of Europe have confirmed his name through the variants discovered, however. An inscription with the name Cernunnos was found at Polenza in Italy, and a variant, Cernenus at Verespatak in Rumania where he is equated with Jupiter. Other European inscriptions include one to Deo Cernunico at Seinsel-Rëlent in Germany and a Greek inscription at Montagnac in France to Karnonos. Cernunnos is best known in modern times by association with the striking image on the Gundestrup Cauldron. However the worship of Cernunnos, and indeed his name, came from Gaul, where there were many representations of him. We are concerned with the British perception of the god and how he was recorded, and for these reasons the most likely representations of Cernunnos would be the unnamed bull-horned gods found around Britain. The Romans encountered Cernunnos first in Gaul, and associated him with Mercury, although Julius Caesar likened him to Dis Pater as the major god. ~ David Rankine, #NFDB
285:Cette finesse-là a été trouvée dès le paradis terrestre. Mes amis, l’invention est vieille, mais elle est toute neuve. Profitez-en. Soyez Daphnis et Chloé en attendant que vous soyiez Philémon et Baucis. Faites en sorte que, quand vous êtes l’un avec l’autre, rien ne vous manque, et que Cosette soit le soleil pour Marius, et que Marius soit l’univers pour Cosette. Cosette, que le beau temps, ce soit le sourire de votre mari ; Marius, que la pluie, ce soit les larmes de ta femme. Et qu’il ne pleuve jamais dans votre ménage. Vous avez chipé à la loterie le bon numéro, l’amour dans le sacrement ; vous avez le gros lot, gardez-le bien, mettez-le sous clef, ne le gaspillez pas, adorez-vous, et fichez-vous du reste. Croyez ce que je dis là. C’est du bon sens. Bon sens ne peut mentir. Soyez-vous l’un pour l’autre une religion. Chacun a sa façon d’adorer Dieu. Saperlotte ! la meilleure manière d’adorer Dieu, c’est d’aimer sa femme. Je t’aime ! voilà mon catéchisme. Quiconque aime est orthodoxe. ~ Victor Hugo, #NFDB
286:The psyche cannot tolerate a vacuum of love. In the severely abused or deprived child, pain, dis-ease, and violance rush in to fill the void. In the average person in our culture, who has been only "normally" deprived of touch, anxiety and an insatiable hunger for posessions replace the missing eros. The child lacking a sense of welcome, joyous belonging, gratuitous security, will learn to hoard the limited supply of affection. According to the law of psychic compensation, not being held leads to holding on, grasping, addiction, posessiveness. Gradually, things replace people as a source of pleasure and security. When the gift of belonging with is denied, the child learns that love means belongin to. To the degree we are arrested at this stage of development, the needy child will dominate our motivations. Other people and things (and there is fundamentally no difference) will be seen as existing solely for the purpose of "my" survival and satisfaction. "Mine" will become the most important word. ~ Sam Keen, #NFDB
287:reached beneath the folds of her cloak and brought forth a lamp, a delicate thing hanging on a slender chain. “To light your way in the darkness,” I heard her murmur. She let the chain slide through her fingers, and the lantern dropped gently into the pit on top of the other things. Then she raised her voice and said, “Her name was Ismene. Let it be known. She was a sister of our familia. A gladiatrix of House Achillea. She fought as we fight, with bravery and with skill. Five days ago, she fought to win honor in a match with a warrior maid of the House Amazona. She won, but Ismene was grievously wounded in that fight. Our surgeons did what they could for her. Last night the goddess Nemesis, she of the midnight brow, in her great wisdom called Ismene to the realm of heroes and sent forth Mercury to guide her there. She feasts now in the halls of Dis, she spars with Minerva, and she waits for all of us to join her there, and we mourn her absence even as others have this very day joined our ranks here. ~ Lesley Livingston, #NFDB
288:Je ne sais plus quoi dire. La pluie tombe toujours, comme une chute de sable sur la mer. La ville est laide. Il fait froid - l’automne a commencé. Jamais deux personnes ne seront ensemble - la chair est invisible, trop loin de toucher. Tout le monde parle sans rien dire, sans paroles, sans sens. Les mouvements des jambes deviennent ivres. Les anges dansent et la merde est partout.
Je ne fais rien. Je n’écris pas, je ne pense pas. Tout est devenu lourd, difficile, pénible. Il n’y a ni commencement de commençant ni fin de finissant. Chaque fois qu’il est détruit, il paraît encore parmi ses propres ruines. Je ne le questionne plus. Une fois fini je retourne et je commence encore. Je me dis, un petit peu plus, n’arrêtes pas maintenant, un petit peu plus et tout changera, et je continue, même si je ne comprends pas porquoi, je continue, et je pense que chaque fois sera la dernière. Oui, je parle, je force les paroles à sonner (à quoi bon?), ces paroles anciennes, qui ne sont plus les miennes, ces paroles qui tombent sans cesse ma bouche… ~ Paul Auster,#NFDB
289:While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity,
heavily thickening to empire, I
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops
and sighs out, and the mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make
fruit, the fruit rots to make earth.
Qut of the mother; and through the spring exultances,
ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother.
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life
is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than
mountains: shine, perishing republic.
But for my children. I would have them keep their dis-
tance from the thickening center; corruption.
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the
monster’s feet there are left the mountajns.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man,
a clever servant, insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught
-–they say--God, when he walked on earth. ~ Robinson Jeffers,#NFDB
290:Dominika. He would see her soon, if nothing went wrong in the next two days. He played in his head what he would say to her in Istanbul. Gable would be hovering, watching them, his big sheepdog head turned into the wind, sniffing. Jesus, he wanted to hold Dominika in his arms, put his hands on her back, and pull her tight against him. If he dis that, Gable would feed him to the lions. He knew, just knew, however, that Dominika would fly into a rage if he fended her off; she had done so before. She was of the view that she could be a spy and still be in love with her CIA handler, whom she desire. And she dis not sympathize one bit with his conundrum that his superiors disapproved of them doing what they both wanted to do. She would see to it he was not fired. If they loved each other, that should be enough. If you love me, then nothing else matters, Dominika had told him. Nate resented being in this situation, resented Benford looking over his shoulder all the time, resented Gable’s acuity, resented Dominika’s damn Russian incorrigibility. ~ Jason Matthews, #NFDB
291:Avec l'amour maternel, la vie vous fait, à l'aube, une promesse qu'elle ne tient jamais. Chaque fois qu'une femme vous prend dans ses bras et vous serre sur son coeur, ce ne sont plus que des condoléances. On revient toujours gueuler sur la tombe de sa mère comme un chien abandonné. Jamais plus, jamais plus, jamais plus. Des bras adorables se referment autour de votre cou et des lèvres très douces vous parlent d'amour, mais vous êtes au courant. Vous êtes passé à la source très tôt et vous avez tout bu. Lorsque la soif vous reprend, vous avez beau vous jeter de tous côtés, il n'y a plus de puits, il n'y a que des mirages. Vous avez fait, dès la première lueur de l'aube, une étude très serrée de l'amour et vous avez sur vous de la documentation. Je ne dis pas qu'il faille empêcher les mères d'aimer leurs petits. Je dis simplement qu'il vaut mieux que les mères aient encore quelqu'un d'autre à aimer. Si ma mère avait eu un amant, je n'aurais pas passé ma vie à mourir de soif auprès de chaque fontaine. Malheureusement pour moi, je me connais en vrais diamants. ~ Romain Gary, #NFDB
292:t h e p aty i s a c omp l e x , adap t i v e s y s t em. Its e n d i s pro l et arian r e v o l u ti o n , t hat i s , t h e d e s t ru c ti o n o f t h e c ap italis t s y s t em of e x p lo itati o n and e x p ro p r i a ti o n , o f proletari aniza t i on, a n d t h e c r e at i o n o f a mo d e of pro d uc ti o n and dis tr i b u t i o n wh e r e t h e free d e v e l o pme n t o f e a ch i s c omp at i b l e w i th t h e free d e v e l o pme n t o f all. We d o n ' t y e t k n ow h ow we w i l l s truc t u re o u r c ommu n i s t p aity-i n p a1t b e c ause we s t o p p e d thi n k i n g abou t i t, g i v i n g way i n st e ad t o the transi e n c e of i s s ue s , ease o f o n e - clic k n e tworked pol i ti c s , and t h e i l l u s i o n t h a t o u r i n d i v id ual a c ti v i ti e s w o u l d i mman e ntly c o n verge in a p lurality o f p o s t- c ap i talis t prac tic e s of c re at i ng a n d s h aring. B ut we k now t h at we n e e d t o find a mo d e of s truggle that c an s c al e , e n d ure, and c ul ti v ate t h e c o l le c t i v e d e s i re for c o l l e c t i v ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
293:Breitmann In Holland. 's Gravenhage - The Hague.
Hans reitet troo de Nederland,
From Rotterdam below,
To Gravenhaag und Leyden
Und Haarlem - all a row;
He shtoodit in de galleries
A tausend works of art;
Boot ach - der Adriaan Brauwer,
Vent most teepest to his heart.
Und dus exglaim der Breitmann
In woonder-solemn shdrain,
'De cratest men vere Brauwer,
Van Ostade, und Jan Steen.
Der Raffael vas vel enof;
Dat ish in his shmall vay;
Boot - Gott im Himmel! - vot vas he
Coompared mit soosh as dey?
'Shoost see dat vight of troonken boorsVon tears de oder's goat:
Vhile de oder mit a pointet knife
Ish goin for his troat.
Und a madchen mit a tree-leg shtuhl
Ish clip him on de het,
In dese higher human passion valks,
Der Raffael's coldt und deadt.
'De more ve digs into de eart'Or less ve seeks a star,De nearer ve to Natur coom,
More pantheistich far;
To him who reads dis myst'ry right,
Mit insbiration gifen,
Der Raffael's rollen in de dirt,
Vhile Brauwer soars to Heafen.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
294:Breitmann In Belgium. Gent.
If I hat gold, as I hafe time,
I tells you how 'tvere shpent,
On efery year I'd shtay a week
In Vlanderen's hoofstad, Gent.
For, oh! de sveet wild veelins,
In dat stad do mofe me so,
Vhen I'd dink of all de clorious men
Vot life dere long aco.
If efer man hat manly heart,
He'd veel dat heart to beat,
Vhen mit de oldten dime of Ghent
He valks troo efery shdreet.
Und ach! de volk are yet so goot,
It gave me soosh a pliss,
Vhen I hear a bier-hous spielman sing
A melodie like dis:'Het was op eenen Monday,
All on a Monday free,
Dat mijnheere Jacob Van Artevelde
Unto his men said he:
He seide - 'Mijn lief gesellen,
Ve all moost ride out land,
And trive our way to Bruges town
Or Brussel in Braband.'
'Und as he oonto Brussel cam,
De meisjes sprong from bed,
Und found Mynheere Van Artevelde
Mit a cross-bolt troo his head.'
Und shoost pecause dis bier-hous song
Recht troo my heartsen vent,
I feel dat I could life und die
All in de down of Gent.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
295:In a little wind-lull, Tea Cake touched Janie and said, ‘Ah reckon you wish now you had of stayed in yo’ big house ’way from such as dis, don’t yuh?’
‘Naw.’
‘Naw?’
‘Yeah, naw. People don't die till dey time come nohow, don't keer where you at. Ah’m wid mah husband in uh storm, dat’s all.’
‘Thanky, Ma’am. But ’sposing you wuz tuh die, now. You wouldn’t git mad at me for draggin’ yuh heah?’
‘Naw. We been tuhgether round two years. If you kin see de light at daybreak, you don’t keer if you die at dusk. It’s so many people never seen de light at all. Ah wuz fumblin’ round and God opened de door.’
He dropped to the floor and put his head in her lap. ‘Well then, Janie, you meant whut you didn’t say, ’cause Ah never knowed you wuz so satisfied wid me lak dat, Ah kinda thought—’
The wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God. ~ Zora Neale Hurston,#NFDB
296:on n’est peut-être pas si mal en prison, me dis-je, les problèmes administratifs disparaissent, et on est également pris en charge d’un point de vue médical, le principal inconvénient est qu’on se fait constamment battre et sodomiser par les autres détenus, mais à bien réfléchir c’étaient peut-être surtout les pédophiles qui se faisaient humilier et enculer par les autres prisonniers, ou bien alors des jeunes mecs très mignons, avec un petit cul d’ange, des délinquants fragiles et mondains qui tombaient bêtement, pour un rail de coke, moi j’étais baraqué, trapu et un peu alcoolique, j’avais plutôt le profil d’un prévenu moyen en réalité. « Humiliés et enculés » c’était un bon titre, du Dostoïevski trash, d’ailleurs il me semblait que Dostoïevski avait écrit sur le monde carcéral, c’était peut-être transposable, enfin là je n’avais pas le temps de vérifier, il fallait que je prenne une décision rapidement, et ce qu’il me semblait c’est qu’un mec ayant tué sa femme pour « venger son honneur » devait bénéficier d’un certain respect des codétenus, c’est ce que me soufflait ma faible compréhension de la psychologie du milieu carcéral. ~ Michel Houellebecq, #NFDB
297:These categories of treatment in fact overlap considerably and, in addition, there is always the primary task of doing all possible to restore a normal balance and efficiency in the body’s functions as a whole. To repeat a well known expression, we do not treat the dis-ease, we treat the person. Although it often seems as though we were primarily interested in what the new patient should eat and drink, in fact we are concerned with all aspects of the individual’s vital existence. As the Nature Cure symbol expresses it, the physical, the mental and the ethical must all be brought into a harmonious, working unity. ‘It is pointless to give instruction only about dietetics to a person whose illness has been primarily caused by emotional stress. To give simple instances: if the patient has a deep conviction that he is failing to make a fair contribution to society, he may be unable to digest and absorb foods that should normally be adequate. If he feels that society is not giving him proper appreciation he may find it impossible to be satisfied with normal feeding, and be plagued by cravings for all manner of things - even those that he consciously recognises as destructive. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
298:Bavarian Gentias
Not every man has gentians in his house
in soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime, torch-like, with the smoking blueness of Pluto's
gloom,
ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off blight, lead
me then, lead the way.
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness even
where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice
or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom, among the
splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on the lost bride and her
groom.
~ David McKee Wright,#NFDB
299:I HAVE no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,
Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,
Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;
Nor Uladh, when Naoise had thrown a sail upon the wind;
Nor lands that seem too dim to be burdens on the heart:
Land-under-Wave, where out of the moon's light and the sun's
Seven old sisters wind the threads of the long-lived ones,
Land-of-the-Tower, where Aengus has thrown the gates apart,
And Wood-of-Wonders, where one kills an ox at dawn,
To find it when night falls laid on a golden bier.
Therein are many queens like Branwen and Guinevere;
And Niamh and Laban and Fand, who could change to an otter or fawn,
And the wood-woman, whose lover was changed to a blue-eyed hawk;
And whether I go in my dreams by woodland, or dun, or shore,
Or on the unpeopled waves with kings to pull at the oar,
I hear the harp-string praise them, or hear their mournful talk.
Because of something told under the famished horn
Of the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,
To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dis may,
Even in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.
~ William Butler Yeats, Under The Moon
,#NFDB
300:I’ve learned that for every condition in our lives, there’s a need for it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have it. The symptom is only an outer effect. We must go within to dissolve the mental cause. This is why willpower and discipline don’t work. They’re only battling the outer effect. It’s like cutting down the weed instead of getting the root out. So before you begin the New Thought Pattern affirmations, work on the willingness to release the need for the cigarettes, the headache, the excess weight, or whatever. When the need is gone, the outer effect must die. No plant can live if the root is cut away. The mental thought patterns that cause the most dis-ease in the body are criticism, anger, resentment, and guilt. For instance, criticism indulged in long enough will often lead to dis-eases such as arthritis. Anger turns into things that boil, burn, and infect the body. Resentment long held festers and eats away at the self and ultimately can lead to tumors and cancer. Guilt always seeks punishment and leads to pain. It’s so much easier to release these negative thinking patterns from our minds when we’re healthy than to try to dig them out when we’re in a state of panic and under the threat of the surgeon’s knife. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
301:Hommes et femmes de Londres, me voici. Je vous félicite cordialement d'être anglais. Vous êtes un grand peuple. Je dis plus, vous êtes une grande populace. Vos coups de poing sont encore plus beaux que vos coups d'épée. Vous avez de l'appétit. Vous êtes la nation qui mange les autres. Fonction magnifique. Cette succion du monde classe à part l'Angleterre. Comme politique et philosophie, et maniement des colonies, populations, et industries, et comme volonté de faire aux autres du mal qui est pour soi du bien, vous êtes particuliers et surprenants. Le moment approche où il y aura sur la terre deux écriteaux; sur l'un on lira: Côté des hommes; sur l'autre on lira: Côté des anglais. Je constate ceci à votre gloire, moi qui ne suis ni anglais, ni homme, ayant l'honneur d'être un docteur. Cela va ensemble. Gentlemen, j'enseigne. Quoi? Deux espèces de choses, celles que je sais et celles que j'ignore. Je vends des drogues et je donne des idées. Approchez, et écoutez. La science vous y convie. Ouvrez votre oreille. Si elle est petite, elle tiendra peu de vérité; si elle est grande, beaucoup de stupidité y entrera. Donc, attention. J'enseigne la Pseudodoxia Epidemica. J'ai un
camarade qui fait rire, moi je fais penser. ~ Victor Hugo,#NFDB
302:Depression is not sadness, not even a state of mind, it is a (neuro)philosophical (dis)position. Beyond Pop’s bipolar oscillation between evanescent thrill and frustrated hedonism, beyond Jagger’s Miltonian Mephistopheleanism, beyond Iggy’s negated carny, beyond Roxy’s lounge lizard reptilian melancholy, beyond the pleasure principle altogether, Joy Division were the most Schopenhauerian of rock groups, so much so that they barely belonged to rock at all. Since they had so thoroughly stripped out rock’s libidinal motor – it would be better to say that they were, libidinally as well as sonically, anti-rock. Or perhaps, as they thought, they were the truth of rock, rock divested of all illusions. (The depressive is always confident of one thing: that he is without illusions.) What makes Joy Division so Schopenhauerian is the disjunction between Curtis’s detachment and the urgency of the music, its implacable drive standing in for the dumb insatiability of the life-Will, the Beckettian ‘I must go on’ not experienced by the depressive as some redemptive positivity, but as the ultimate horror, the life-Will paradoxically assuming all the loathsome properties of the undead (whatever you do, you can’t extinguish it, it keeps coming back). ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
303:J’ai arpenté les galeries sans fin des grandes bibliothèque, les rues de cette ville qui fût la nôtre, celle où nous partagions presque tous nos souvenirs depuis l’enfance. Hier, j’ai marché le long des quais, sur les pavés du marché à ciel ouvert que tu aimais tant. Je me suis arrêté par-ci par-là, il me semblait que tu m’accompagnais, et puis je suis revenu dans ce petit bar près du port, comme chaque vendredi. Te souviendras-tu ?
Je ne sais pas où tu es. Je ne sais pas si tout ce que nous avons vécu avait un sens, si la vérité existe, mais si tu trouves ce petit mot un jour, alors tu sauras que j’ai tenu ma promesse, celle que je t’ai faite.
A mon tour de te demander quelque chose, tu me le dois bien. Oublie ce que je viens d’écrire, en amitié on ne doit rien. Mais voici néanmoins ma requête : Dis-lui, dis-lui que quelque part sur cette terre, loin de vous, de votre temps, j’ai arpenté les mêmes rues, ri avec toi autour des mêmes tables, et puisque les pierres demeurent, dis-lui que chacune de celles où nous avons posé nos mais et nos regards contient à jamais une part de notre histoire. Dis-lui, que j’étais ton ami, que tu étais mon frère, peut-être mieux encore puisque nous nous étions choisis, dis-lui que rien n’a jamais pu nous séparer, même votre départ si soudain. ~ Marc Levy,#NFDB
304:Crowley had always known that he would be around when the world ended, because he was immortal and wouldn’t have any alternative. But he hoped it was a long way off. Because he rather liked people. It was major failing in a demon. Oh, he did his best to make their short lives miserable, because that was his job, but nothing he could think up was half as bad as the stuff they thought up themselves. They seemed to have a talent for it. It was built into the design, somehow. They were born into a world that was against them in a thousand little ways, and then devoted most of their energies to making it worse. Over the years Crowley had found it increasingly difficult to find anything demonic to do which showed up against the natural background of generalized nastiness. There had been times, over the past millennium, when he’d felt like sending a message back Below saying, Look we may as well give up right now, we might as well shut down Dis and Pandemonium and everywhere and move up here, there’s nothing we can do to them that they don’t do to themselves and they do things we’ve never even thought of, often involving electrodes. They’ve got what we lack. They’ve got imagination. And electricity, of course. One of them had written it, hadn’t he…”Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. ~ Terry Pratchett, #NFDB
305:- Je me torchai après, dit Gargantua, d'un couvre-chef, d'un oreiller, d'une pantoufle, d'une gibecière, d'un panier. Mais ô le mal plaisant torche-cul. Puis d'un chapeau. Et notez que des chapeaux les uns sont ras, les autres à poil, les autres veloutés, les autres taffetassés, les autres satinisés. Le meilleur de tous est celui de poil. Car il fait très bonne abstersion de la matière fécale.
« Puis me torchai d'une poule, d'un coq, d'un poulet, de la peau d'un veau, d'un lièvre, d'un pigeon, d'un cormoran, d'un sac d'avocat, d'une barbute, d'une coiffe, d'un leurre.
« Mais, concluant, je dis et maintiens, qu'il n'y a tel torche-cul que d'un oison bien dumeté, pourvu qu'on lui tienne la tête entre les jambes. Et m'en croyez sur mon honneur. Car vous sentez au trou du cul une volupté mirifique, tant par la douceur d'icelui dumet, que par la chaleur tempérée de l'oison, laquelle facilement est communiquée au boyau culier et autres intestins, jusqu'à venir à la région du coeur et du cerveau.
« Et ne pensez que la béatitude des héros et semi-dieux qui sont par les Champs Elysées soit en leur asphodèle ou ambroisie, ou nectar, comme disent ces vieilles ici. Elle est, selon mon opinion, en ce qu'ils se torchent le cul d'un oison. Et telle est l'opinion de maître Jean d' Écosse. » ~ Fran ois Rabelais,#NFDB
306:La Scala Santa
IN San Gianni Lateran,
Dey've cot a flight of shdairs,
More woonderful ash nefer vas,
As Latin pooks declares.
For you kits your sins forgifen,
If you glimes dem knee py knee;
It's such a gitten up a stairs,
I nefer yet did see.
Now as Breitmann vas a vaitin
Among some demi reps,
Ascensionem expectans,
To see dem glime de steps,
Dere came a sinful scoffer,
Who his mind had firmly set
To go dem holy sdairs afoot,
Und do it on a bet!
Boot shoost as he vas startet,
To make dis sassy go,
Der Breitmann caught him py de neck,
Und tripped him off his toe!
Und den dere come de skience,
A la prenez gardez vous;
For he bung his eye and bust his shell,
Und shplit his noshe in dwo.
De briests vere so astonish,
To see him lam de man,
Dat dey shvore a holy miracle
Vas vork by Breitemann.
Says Breitmann, 'I'm a heretic,
But dis you may pe bound,
No chap shall mock relishious dings
Vhile I'm a bummin round.
'Und you owes me really noding,
For as I'll plainly show,
At last I've found out someding
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Vot I alfays vant to know.
Und now dat I have found it,
In de newspapers I'll brag:
Evviva! Ho trovato,
Vot means a Scala-Wag.'
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
307:Moi, le clandestin, je leur rappelle cela. Le vide. Le hasard qui les fonde. A tous. C’est pour ça qu’ils me haïssent. Parce que je rode dans leurs villes, parce que je squatte leurs bâtiments désaffectés, parce que j’accepte le travail qu’ils refusent, je leur dis, aux Européens, que j’aimerais être à leur place, que les privilèges que le sort aveugle leur a donnés, je voudrais les acquérir : en face de moi, ils réalisent qu’ils ont de la chance, qu’ils ont tiré un bon numéro, que le couperet fatal leur est passé au ras des fesses, et se souvenir de cette première et constitutive fragilité les glace, les paralyse. Car les hommes tentent, pour oublier le vide, de se donner de la consistance, de croire qu’ils appartiennent pour des raisons profondes, immuables, à une langue, une nation, une région, une race, une histoire, une morale, une histoire, une idéologie, une religion. Or malgré ces maquillages, chaque fois que l’homme s’analyse, ou chaque fois qu’un clandestin s’approche de lui, les illusions s’effacent, il aperçoit le vide : il aurait pu ne pas être ainsi, ne pas être italien, ne pas être chrétien, ne pas… Les identités qu’il cumule et qui lui accordent de la densité, il sait au fond de lui qu’il s’est borné à les recevoir, puis à les transmettre. Il n’est que le sable qu’on a versé en lui ; de lui-même, il n’est rien. ~ ric Emmanuel Schmitt, #NFDB
308:Love Song
O VERE mine lofe a sugar-powl,
De fery shmallest loomp
Vouldt shveet de seas, from pole to pole,
Und make de shildren shoomp.
Und if she vere a clofer-field,
I'd bet my only pence,
It vouldn't pe no dime at all
Pefore I'd shoomp de fence.
Her heafenly foice, it drill me so,
It oft-dimes seems to hoort,
She ish de holiest anamile
Dat roons oopon de dirt.
De renpow rises vhen she sings,
De sonnshine vhen she dalk;
De angels crow und flop deir vings
Vhen she goes out to valk.
So livin white, so carnadine,
Mine lofe's gomblexion show;
It's shoost like Abendcarmosine,
Rich gleamin on de shnow.
Her soul makes plushes in her sheek
Ash sommer reds de wein,
Or sonnlight sends a fire life troo
An blank Karfunkelstein.
De uberschwengliche idees
Dis lofe poot in my mind,
Vouldt make a foost-rate philosoph
Of any human kind.
'Tis schudderin schveet on eart to meet
An himmlisch-hoellisch Qual;
Und treat mitwhiles to Kummel Schnapps
De schoenheitsideal.
Dein Fuss seind weiss wie Kreiden,
Dein Ermlein Helfenbein,
Dein ganzer Leib ist Seiden
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Dein Brust wie MarmelsteinJa-vot de older boet sang,
I sing of dee-dou Fine!
Dou'rt soul und pody, heart und life
Glatt, zart, gelind, und rein.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
309:Scherzo
Sourires, fleurs, baisers, essences,
Après de si fades ennuis,
Après de si ternes absences,
Parfumez le vent de mes nuits!
Illuminez ma fantaisie,
Jonchez mon chemin idéal,
Et versez-moi votre ambroisie,
Longs regards, lys, lèvres, santal!
Car j'ignore l'amour caduque
Et le dessillement des yeux,
Puisqu'encor sur ta blanche nuque
L'or flamboie en flocons soyeux.
Et cependant, ma fière amie,
Il y a longtemps, n'est-ce pas?
Qu'un matin tu t'es endormie,
Lasse d'amour entre mes bras.
Ce ne sont pas des choses charnelles
Qui font ton attrait non pareil,
Qui conservent à tes prunelles
Ces mêmes rayons de soleil.
Car les choses charnelles meurent,
Ou se fanent à l'air réel.
Mais toujours tes beautés demeurent
Dans leur nimbe immatériel.
Ce n'est plus l'heure des tendresses
Jalouses, ni des faux serments.
Ne me dis rien de mes maîtresses,
Je ne compte pas tes amants.
A toi, comète vagabonde
Souvent attardée en chemin,
Laissant ta chevelure blonde
Flotter dans l'éther surhumain,
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Qu'importent quelques astres pâles
Au ciel troublé de ma raison,
Quand tu viens à longs intervalles
Envelopper mon horizon?
Je ne veux pas savoir quels pôles
Ta folle orbite a dépassés,
Tends-moi tes seins et tes épaules;
Que je les baise, c'est assez.
~ Charles Cros,#NFDB
310:I FASTED for some forty days on bread and buttermilk,
For passing round the bottle with girls in rags or silk,
In country shawl or Paris cloak, had put my wits astray,
And what's the good of women, for all that they can say
Is fol de rol de rolly O.
Round Lough Derg's holy island I went upon the
stones,
I prayed at all the Stations upon my matrow-bones,
And there I found an old man, and though, I prayed all
day
And that old man beside me, nothing would he say
But fol de rol de rolly O.
All know that all the dead in the world about that
place are stuck,
And that should mother seek her son she'd have but
little luck
Because the fires of purgatory have ate their shapes
away;
I swear to God I questioned them, and all they had to
say
Was fol de rol de rolly O.
A great black ragged bird appeared when I was in the
boat;
Some twenty feet from tip to tip had it stretched
rightly out,
With flopping and with flapping it made a great dis-
play,
But I never stopped to question, what could the boat-
man say
But fol de rol de rolly O.
Now I am in the public-house and lean upon the wall,
So come in rags or come in silk, in cloak or country
shawl,
And come with learned lovers or with what men you
may,
For I can put the whole lot down, and all I have to say
Is fol de rol de rolly O.
~ William Butler Yeats, The Pilgrim
,#NFDB
311:In heterosexual society, many women dread growing old because of the belief systems we have created around the glory of youth. It is not so difficult for the men, for they become distinguished with a bit of gray hair. The older man often gets respect, and people may even look up to him. Not so for most gay men, for they have created a culture that places tremendous emphasis on youth and beauty. While everyone is young to start with, only a few fit the standard of beauty. So much emphasis has been placed on the physical appearance of the body that the feelings inside have been totally disregarded. If you are not young and beautiful, it’s almost as though you don’t count. The person does not count; only the body counts. This way of thinking is a disgrace to the whole culture. It’s another way of saying, “Gay is not good enough.” Because of the ways gay people often treat other gays, for many gay men the experience of getting old is something to dread. It is almost better to die than to get old. And aids is a dis-ease that often kills. Too often gay men feel that when they get older, they will be useless and unwanted. It is almost better to destroy themselves first, and many have created a destructive lifestyle. Some of the concepts and attitudes that are so a part of the gay lifestyle — the meat rack, the constant judging, the refusal to get close to another, and so on—are monstrous. And aids is a monstrous dis-ease. ~ Louise L Hay, #NFDB
312:A La Sante
Allons, muse rustique, enfant de la nature,
Détache ces cheveux, ceins ton front de verdure,
Va de mon cher de Pange égayer les loisirs.
Rassemble autour de toi tes champêtres plaisirs;
Ton cortège dansant de légères dryades,
De nymphes au sein blanc, de folâtres ménades.
Entrez dans son asile aux muses consacré,
Où de sphères, d'écrits, de beaux-arts entouré,
Sur les doctes feuillets sa jeunesse prudente
Pâlit au sein des nuits près d'une lampe ardente.
Hélas! de tous les dieux il n'eut point les faveurs.
Souvent son corps débile est en proie aux douleurs.
Muse, implore pour lui la Santé secourable,
Cette reine des dieux sans qui rien n'est aimable,
Qui partout fait briller le sourire, les jeux,
Les grâces, le printemps. Qu'indulgente à tes voeux,
Le dictame à la main, près de lui descendue,
Elle vienne avec toi présenter à sa vue
Cette jeunesse en fleur, et ce teint pur et frais,
Et le baume et la vie épars dans tous ses traits.
Dis-lui: 'Belle Santé, déesse des déesses,
Toi sans qui rien ne plaît, ni grandeurs, ni richesses,
Ni chansons, ni festins, ni caresses d'amours,
Viens, d'un mortel aimé viens embellir les jours.
Touche-le de ta main qui répand l'ambroisie.
Ainsi tu nous verras, troupe agreste et choisie,
Les hymnes à la bouche, entourer tes autels,
Santé, reine des dieux, nourrice des mortels.'
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
313:The eyes have been used to signify a perverse capacity - honed to perfection in the history of science tied to militarism, capitalism, colonialism, and male supremacy - to distance the knowing subject from everybody and everything in the interests of unfettered power. The instruments of visualization in multinationalist, postmodernist culture have compounded these meanings of dis-embodiment. The visualizing technologies are without apparent limit; the eye of any ordinary primate like us can be endlessly enhanced by sonography systems, magnetic resonance imaging, artificial intelligence-linked graphic manipulation systems, scanning electron microscopes, computer-aided tomography scanners, colour enhancement techniques, satellite surveillance systems, home and office VDTs, cameras for every purpose from filming the mucous membrane lining the gut cavity of a marine worm living in the vent gases on a fault between continental plates to mapping a planetary hemisphere elsewhere in the solar system. Vision in this technological feast becomes unregulated gluttony; all perspective gives way to infinitely mobile vision, which no longer seems just mythically about the god-trick of seeing everything from nowhere, but to have put the myth into ordinary practice. And like the god-trick, this eye fucks the world to make techno-monsters. Zoe Sofoulis (1988) calls this the cannibal-eye of masculinist extra-terrestrial projects for excremental second birthing. ~ Donna J Haraway, #NFDB
314:How does she do that?” Bird asked.
I didn’t have to ask who the she was. I knew it was Tiffany. Nor did I have to ask what Bird was referring to. Jason and Mac were leaning toward Tiffany, listening to whatever it was she was saying, like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Does she wear, like, turn-’em-stupid perfume or something?” Bird asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe guys like thinking they’re way smarter than girls.”
“It’s gotta be an act. No one is that brainless.” She grimaced. “I don’t mean to dis your sister, but really, does anyone think the moon actually turns blue?”
Yeah, Tiffany had asked, “So when does the moon turn blue?”
Mac had laughed and explained that a blue moon was the second full moon in a month, that a full moon appeared every twenty-nine nights, and so it was truly rare to have two full moons in any given month. He’d said he’d taken a class in astronomy.
“Oh, I love astronomy. I’m a Pisces. What sign are you?”
Which had made Mac laugh again, and he started to explain the difference between astronomy and astrology. Tiffany was apparently absolutely fascinated…and fascinating. His gaze--and Jason’s--was riveted on her.
I gave another little shrug, feeling a need to defend my sister, who might be in need of a trip down the yellow brick road to ask the wizard for some brains. “I wasn’t exactly sure what a blue moon was, either.”
“But you know the difference between astronomy and astrology. ~ Rachel Hawthorne,#NFDB
315:La Nymphe L’apercoit
La nymphe l'aperçoit, et l'arrête, et soupire.
Vers un banc de gazon, tremblante, elle l'attire;
Elle s'assied. Il vient, timide avec candeur,
Ému d'un peu d'orgueil, de joie et de pudeur.
Les deux mains de la nymphe errent à l'aventure.
L'une, sur son front blanc, va de sa chevelure
Former les blonds anneaux. L'autre de son menton
Caresse lentement le mol et doux coton.
'Approche, bel enfant, approche, lui dit-elle,
Toi si jeune et si beau, près de moi jeune et belle.
Viens, ô mon bel ami, viens, assieds-toi sur moi.
Dis, quel âge, mon fils, s'est écoulé pour toi?
Aux combats du gymnase as-tu quelque victoire?
Aujourd'hui, m'a-t-on dit, tes compagnons de gloire,
Trop heureux, te pressaient entre leurs bras glissants,
Et l'olive a coulé sur tes membres luisants.
Tu baisses tes yeux noirs? Bienheureuse la mère
Qui t'a formé si beau, qui t'a nourri pour plaire!
Tu souris? tu rougis? Que ta joue est brillante!
Que ta bouche est vermeille et ta peau transparente!
N'es-tu pas Hyacinthe au blond Phoebus si cher?
Ou ce jeune Troyen ami de Jupiter?
Ou celui qui, naissant pour plus d'une immortelle,
Entr'ouvrit de Myrrha l'écorce maternelle?
Ami, qui que tu sois, oh! tes jeux sont charmants:
Bel enfant, aime-moi. Mon coeur de mille amants
Rejeta mille fois la poursuite enflammée;
Mais toi seul, aime-moi, j'ai besoin d'être aimée...'
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
316:Ballad
BY HANS BREITMANN.
Der noble Ritter Hugo
Von Schwillensaufenstein,
Rode out mit shper and helmet,
Und he coom to de panks of de Rhine.
Und oop dere rose a meermaid,
Vot hadn't got nodings on,
Und she say, 'Oh, Ritter Hugo,
Vhere you goes mit yourself alone?'
And he says, 'I rides in de creenwood,
Mit helmet und mit shpeer,
Til I coomes into em Gasthaus,
Und dere I trinks some beer.'
Und den outshpoke de maiden
Vot hadn't got nodings on:
'I don't dink mooch of beoplesh
Dat goes mit demselfs alone.
'You'd petter coom down in de wasser,
Vhere dere's heaps of dings to see,
Und hafe a shplendid tinner
Und drafel along mit me.
'Dere you sees de fisch a schwimmin',
Und you catches dem efery von:'-So sang dis wasser maiden
Vot hadn't got nodings on.
'Dere ish drunks all full mit money
In ships dat vent down of old;
Und you helpsh yourself, by dunder!
To shimmerin' crowns of gold.
'Shoost look at dese shpoons und vatches!
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Shoost see dese diamant rings!
Coom down and fill your bockets,
Und I'll giss you like efery dings.
'Vot you vantsh mit your schnapps und lager?
Coom down into der Rhine!
Der ish pottles der Kaiser Charlemagne
Vonce filled mit gold-red wine!'
Dat fetched him - he shtood all shpell pound;
She pooled his coat-tails down,
She drawed him oonder der wasser,
De maiden mit nodings on.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
317:I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no dis-advantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest benefit has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. And I can now give myself the certificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes my tongue or pen. I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man, and silence is necessary in order to surmount it. A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech; he will measure every word. We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be of any benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time. My shyness has been in reality my shield and buckler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discernment of truth. ~ Mahatma Gandhi, #NFDB
318:Nate was sitting in the relative dark of the room, doors open, the long gauzy sheers floating in the wind. He peripherally registered movement on the lawn. It was Dominika, holding a small case in her hand. She had somehow gotten through the gate and come around the side of the house. Two hours early. Nate dis not move, watching her through the French doors. She faced the water, dropped her bag, shook out her hair in the breeze, and looked at a freighter thrumming down the channel. She lifted one foot, then the other, slipping sandals off her feet. Her dark-blue summer dress billowed in the breeze, right out of Wuthering Heights. Nate walked to the open door and leaned against the frame. “I’m sorry, but the property is not for sale,” he said. Dominika did not turn, but continued to look at the water. “Are you the owner?” said Dominika over her shoulder. “I represent the owners,” said Nate, stepping down to the grass and walking up behind her. “Are you sure they will not consider selling?” she said. She turned around and brushed wind-blown hair off her face. She took a step toward him. They were inches apart. “How much are you willing to offer?” said Nate. “For a view like this, price is no object,” said Dominika. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Nate lightly held her waist. They stood like that for a long minute, then Dominika stepped back and wiped her wet cheek. “Kak ty?” she wispered, in Russian, how are you? “Privet,” said Nate, Hi. “I missed you. ~ Jason Matthews, #NFDB
319:Die Schone Wittwe
DAT pooty liddle vidow
Vot ve dosh'nt vish to name,
Ish still leben on dat liddle shtreet,
A doin' shoost de same.
De glerks aroundt de gorners
Somedimes goes round to zee
How die tarlin' liddle vitchy ees,
Und ask 'er how she pe.
Dey lofes her ver' goot liquoer,
Dey lofes her liddle shtore;
Dey lofes her little paby,
But dey lofes die vidow more.
To dalk mit dat shveet vidow,
Ven she hands das lager round,
Vill make der shap dat does id
Pe happy, ve'll be pound.
Dat ish if we can vell pelieve
De glerks vat drinks das beer,
Who goes in dere for noding elshe,
Put simply for to zee her.
II. HOW DER BREITMANN CUT HIM OUT.
Oh yes I know die wittwe,
Mit eyes so prite und proun!
She's de allerschoenste wittwe
Vot live in dis here down.
In her plack silk gown - mine grashious!All puttoned to de neckUnd a pooty liddle collar,
Mitout a shpot or shpeck.
Ho! clear de drack you oder frausYou can't pegin to shine
Vhen de lofely vidder cooms alongDis vidder ash ish mine!
Ho! clear de drack you Yankee chaps,
You Englishers und sooch,
You can't pegin to coot me out,
Mitout you dalks in Dootch.
Ich hab die schoene wittwe
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Schon lange nit gesehn,
Ich sah sie gestern Abend
Wohl bei dem Counter Stehn.
Die Wangen rein wie Milch and Blut
Die Augen hell und klar.
Ich hab sie sechsmal auch gekusstPotztausend! das ist wahr.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
320:Hassan said, "I'm a Kuwaiti exchange student; my dad's an oil baron."
Colin shook his head, "Too obvious. I'm a Spaniard. A refugee. My parents were murdered by Basque separatists."
"I don't know if Basque is a thing or a person and neither will they, so no. Okay, I just got to America from Honduras. My name is Miguel. My parents made a fortune in bananas, and you are my bodyguard, because the banana workers' union wants me dead."
Colin shot back, "That's good, but you don't speak Spanish. Okay, I was abducted by Eskimos in the Yukon Terr-no, that's crap. We're cousins from France visiting the United States for the first time. It's out high school graduation trip."
"That's boring, but we're out of time. I'm the English speaker?" asked Hassan. "Yeah, fine."
"Okay, they're coming," said Hassan. "What's your name?"
"Pierre."
"Okay. I'm Salinger, pronounced SalinZHAY."
........
"He has Tourette's?" asked Katrina.
"MERDE!" (Shit) shouted Colin.
"Yes," said Hassan excitedly. "same word both language, like hemorrhoid. That one we learned yesterday because Pierre had the fire in his bottom. He has Toorettes. And the hemorrhoid. But, is good boy.
"Ne dis pas que j'ai des hemorroides! Je n'ai pas d'hemorroide," (Don't say I have hemorrhoids! I don't have hemorrhoids.) Colin shouted, at once trying to continue the game and get Hassan on to a different topic.
Hassan looked at Colin, nodded knowingly, and then told Katrina, "He just said that your face, it is beautiful like the hemorrhoid. ~ John Green,#NFDB
321:Bavarian Gentians
Not every man has gentians in his house
in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime torchlike with the smoking blueness of Pluto's
gloom,
ribbed and torchlike, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off
light,
lead me then, lead me the way.
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
Let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of a flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness
down the way Persephone goes, just now, in first-frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is married to dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice, as a bride
a gloom invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms of Pluto as he ravishes her once again
and pierces her once more with his passion of the utter dark
among the splendour of black-blue torches, shedding
fathomless darkness on the nuptials.
Bavarian gentians, tall and dark, but dark
darkening the daytime torch-like with the smoking blueness of Pluto's gloom,
ribbed hellish flowers erect, with their blaze of darkness spread blue,
blown flat into points, by the heavy white draught of the day.
~ David Herbert Lawrence,#NFDB
322:Of course, he was in favor of Armageddon in general terms. If anyone had asked him why he'd been spending centuries tinkering in the affairs of mankind he'd have said, "Oh, in order to bring about Armageddon and the triumph of Hell." But it was one thing to work to bring it about, and quite another for it to actually happen.
Crowley had always known that he would be around when the world ended, because he was immortal and wouldn't have any alternative. But he'd hoped it would be a long way off.
Because he rather liked people. It was a major failing in a demon.
Oh, he did his best to make their short lives miserable, because that was his job, but nothing he could think up was half as bad as the stuff they thought up themselves. They seemed to have a talent for it. It was built into the design, somehow. They were born into a world that was against them in a thousand little ways, and then devoted most of their energies to making it worse. Over the years Crowley had found it increasingly difficult to find anything demonic to do which showed up against the natural background of generalized nastiness. There had been times, over the past millenium, when he'd felt like sending a message back Below saying, Look, we may as well give up right now, we might as well shut down Dis and Pandemonium and everywhere and move up here, there's nothing we can do to them that they don't do to themselves and they do things we've never even though of, often involving electrodes. They've got what we lack. They've got imagination. And electricity, of course. ~ Terry Pratchett,#NFDB
323:Breitmann In Belgium.
BOON tidings to der Breitmann came
Ash he at table end,
Dere's right goot fisch at Blankenberghe,
Und oysters in Ostend.
Denn to Ostland ve will reiten gaen,
To Ostland o'er de sand,
Dou und I mit pridle drawn
For dere ish de oyster land.
Und vhen dey shtood bei Ostersee,
Vhere de waters roar like sin,
Dere coom five hundert fischer volk
To dake der Breitmann in.
'Gotts doonder! Should ve doomple down
Amoong de waters plue,
I kess you'd vant more help from me
Dan I should vant from you!
'If you hat peen vhere I hafe peen
Und see vot I hafe see,
Vhere de surf rise oop nine tausend feet,
In de land of Nieuw Jarsie
Und schwimmed dat surf ash I hafe schwimmed,
Peside de Jersey stran''From dat day fort' de Ostland men
Shdeered glear of der Breitemann.
Boot von ding set him schvearin so,
I dinked he'd nefer cease,
De Ostend oysters kostet more
In Ostend als Paris.
Hans asked an anciendt fisherman,
To 'splain dis if he may,
Und says he, 'Mijn Heer - dey're beter hier
Als ein hundert leagues afay.
'Und as de oysters beter hier
Of course dey kostet more'Der Breitmann dook his bilcrim shdaff,
51
Und toorned him to de toor.
Says Hans, 'De Vlaemsche fischermen
Can sheat de vorldt I pet
Dey sheaten von anoder too,
All's fisch to a Dutchman's net.
'Der king peginned a palace hier,
De palace hat to shtop,
He foundt de beoples sheaten so
He gife de bildin oop.
Aldough das Leben hier ish goot,
Ad least Ostend-sibly'So shpoke der Breitemann und cut
Dat city py de sea.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
324:Breitmann In Belgium. Ostende.
BOON tidings to der Breitmann came
Ash he at table end,
Dere's right goot fisch at Blankenberghe,
Und oysters in Ostend.
Denn to Ostland ve will reiten gaen,
To Ostland o'er de sand,
Dou und I mit pridle drawn
For dere ish de oyster land.
Und vhen dey shtood bei Ostersee,
Vhere de waters roar like sin,
Dere coom five hundert fischer volk
To dake der Breitmann in.
'Gotts doonder! Should ve doomple down
Amoong de waters plue,
I kess you'd vant more help from me
Dan I should vant from you!
'If you hat peen vhere I hafe peen
Und see vot I hafe see,
Vhere de surf rise oop nine tausend feet,
In de land of Nieuw Jarsie
Und schwimmed dat surf ash I hafe schwimmed,
Peside de Jersey stran''From dat day fort' de Ostland men
Shdeered glear of der Breitemann.
Boot von ding set him schvearin so,
I dinked he'd nefer cease,
De Ostend oysters kostet more
In Ostend als Paris.
Hans asked an anciendt fisherman,
To 'splain dis if he may,
Und says he, 'Mijn Heer - dey're beter hier
Als ein hundert leagues afay.
'Und as de oysters beter hier
Of course dey kostet more'Der Breitmann dook his bilcrim shdaff,
54
Und toorned him to de toor.
Says Hans, 'De Vlaemsche fischermen
Can sheat de vorldt I pet
Dey sheaten von anoder too,
All's fisch to a Dutchman's net.
'Der king peginned a palace hier,
De palace hat to shtop,
He foundt de beoples sheaten so
He gife de bildin oop.
Aldough das Leben hier ish goot,
Ad least Ostend-sibly'So shpoke der Breitemann und cut
Dat city py de sea.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
325:Hans Breitmann’s Barty
HANS BREITMANN gife a barty;
Dey had biano-blayin',
I felled in lofe mit a Merican frau,
Her name vas Madilda Yane.
She hat haar as prown ash a pretzel,
Her eyes vas himmel-plue,
Und vhen dey looket indo mine,
Dey shplit mine heart in dwo.
Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
I vent dere you'll pe pound;
I valtzet mit Matilda Yane,
Und vent shpinnen' round und round.
De pootiest Fraulein in de house,
She vayed 'pout dwo hoondred pound,
Und efery dime she gife a shoomp
She make de vindows sound.
Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
I dells you it cost him dear;
Dey rolled in more ash sefen kecks
Of foost-rate lager beer.
Und vhenefer dey knocks de shpicket in
De deutschers gifes a cheer;
I dinks dot so vine a barty
Nefer coom to a het dis year.
Hans Breitmann gife a barty;
Dere all vas Souse and Brouse,
Vhen de sooper comed in, de gompany
Did make demselfs to house;
Dey ate das Brot and Gensy broost,
De Bratwurst and Braten vine,
Und vash der Abendessen down
Mit four parrels of Neckarwein.
Hans Breitmann gife a barty;
Ve all cot troonk ash bigs.
I poot mine mout' to a parrel of beer,
123
Und emptied it oop mit a schwigs;
Und den I gissed Madilda Yane,
Und she shlog me on de kop,
Und de gompany vighted mit daple-lecks
Dill de coonshtable made oos shtop.
Hans Breitmann gife a barty -Vhere ish dot barty now?
Vhere ish de lofely golden cloud
Dot float on de moundain's prow?
Vhere ish de himmelstrahlende stern -De shtar of de shpirit's light?
All goned afay mit de lager beer -Afay in de ewigkeit!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
326:L'économie est devenue le succube de l'homme. Toute notre vie est déterminée par l'économie. Je pense que la grande bataille de notre avenir sera la bataille contre l'économie qui domine nos vies, la bataille pour le retour à une forme de spiritualité - qu'on peut appeler religiosité, si l'on veut - à laquelle on puisse s'adresser. Car c'est une constante dans l'histoire de l'humanité, ce désir de savoir ce qu'on est venu faire sur Terre.
Il nous faut de nouveaux modèles de développement. Pas seulement la croissance, mais également la parcimonie. Tu vois, Folco, je dis, moi, qu'il faut se libérer des désirs. Mais, précisément à cause du système pervers de notre société de consommation, notre vie est entièrement axée autour des jeux, du sport, de la nourriture, des plaisirs. La question est de savoir comment sortir de ce cercle vicieux : petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid. Mais, putain, ce système nous impose des comportements qui sont complètement absurdes. On ne veut pas certaines choses, mais le système de la société de consommation nous séduit et nous convainc de désirer ces choses-là. Toute notre vie dépend de ce mécanisme. Il suffit pourtant de décider de ne pas participer à ce système en résistant, en jeûnant ; alors, c'est comme si on utilisait la non-violence contre la violence. Finalement, à quoi bon toute cette violence ? Ils ne vont tout de même pas nous les enfourner dans la gueule, leurs trucs !
Ce qu'il faut, c'est un effort spirituel profond, une réflexion profonde, un réveil profond. Ce qui, du reste, a quelque chose à voir avec la vérité, dont plus personne ne se soucie. Et là, une fois de plus, Gandhi était extraordinaire. Il cherchait la vérité, ce qui est derrière tout. "Avant, je croyais que Dieu était la vérité. Maintenant, je dirais que la vérité est Dieu." (p. 459-460) ~ Tiziano Terzani,#NFDB
327:And now this mofiient also had come and gone. The dark-
red sun still hung, round as a ball, above the blue snowdrifts
on the skyline, and the snowy plain greedily sucked in its
juicy pineapple light, when the sleigh swept into sight and
vanished. “ Good-bye, Lara, until we meet in the next world,
AGAIN YARYKINO 441
good-bye, my Icwe, my inexhaustible, everlasting joy. I’ll
never see you again. I’ll never, never see you again.’*
It was getting dark. Swiftly the bronze-red patches of
sunset on the ^low faded and went out. The soft, ashy dis-
tance filled with lilac dusk turning to deep mauve, and its
smoky haze smudged the fine tracery of the roadside birch^
lightly hand-drawn on the pink sky, pale as thou^ it had
sudd^y grown shallow.
Grief had sharpened Yury’s vision and quickened his per-
ception a hundredfold. The very air surrounding him seemed
unique. The evening breathed witness of all that had befallen him. As if there had never
been such a dusk before and evening were falling now for
the first time in order to console him in his loneliness and
bereavement. As if the valky were not always girded by
woods growing on the surrounding hills and facing away from
the horizon, but the trees had only taken up their places
now, rising out of the ground on purpose to offer their
condolences.
He almost waved away the tangible beauty of the hour like
a crowd of persistent friends, almost said to the lingering
afterglow: “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be all right.”
Still standing on the veranda, he turned his face to the
closed door, his back to the world. “ My bri^t sun has set
something was repeating this inside him, as if to learn it by
heart. He had not the strength to say these words out loud ~ Boris Pasternak,#NFDB
328:Den we git hurtee again. Somebody call hisself a deputy sheriff kill de baby boy now. (Over)1 “He say he de law, but he doan come ’rest him. If my boy done something wrong, it his place come ’rest him lak a man. If he mad wid my Cudjo ’bout something den he oughter come fight him face to face lak a man. He doan come ’rest him lak no sheriff and he doan come fight him lak no man. He have words wid my boy, but he skeered face him. Derefo’, you unnerstand me, he hidee hisself in de butcher wagon and when it gittee to my boy’s store, Cudjo walk straight to talk business. Dis man, he hidin’ hisself in de back of de wagon, an’ shootee my boy. Oh, Lor’! He shootee my boy in de throat. He got no right shootee my boy. He make out he skeered my boy goin’ shoot him and shootee my boy down in de store. Oh, Lor’! De people run come tellee me my boy hurtee. We tookee him home and lay him in de bed. De big hole in de neck. He try so hard to ketchee breath. Oh, Lor’! It hurtee me see my baby boy lak dat. It hurtee his mama so her breast swell up so. It make me cry ’cause it hurt Seely so much. She keep standin’ at de foot of de bed, you unnerstand me, an’ lookee all de time in his face. She keep telling him all de time, ‘Cudjo, Cudjo, Cudjo, baby, put whip to yo’ horse!’ “He hurtee so hard, but he answer her de best he kin, you unnerstand me. He tellee her, ‘Mama, thass whut I been doin’!’ “Two days and two nights my boy lay in de bed wid de noise in de throat. His mama never leave him. She lookee at his face and tellee him, ‘Put whip to yo’ horse, baby.’ “He pray all he could. His mama pray. I pray so hard, but he die. I so sad I wish I could die in place of my Cudjo. Maybe, I doan pray right, you unnerstand me, ’cause he die while I was prayin’ dat de Lor’ spare my boy life. “De man dat killee my boy, he de paster of Hay Chapel in Plateau today. I try forgive him. ~ Zora Neale Hurston, #NFDB
329:Je me redisais en étouffant mes sanglots les mots où Gilberte avait laissé éclater sa joie de ne pas venir de longtemps aux Champs-Élysées. Mais déjà le charme dont, par son simple fonctionnement, se remplissait mon esprit dès qu'il songeait à elle, la position particulière, unique,—fût elle affligeante,—où me plaçait inévitablement par rapport à Gilberte, la contrainte interne d'un pli mental, avaient commencé à ajouter, même à cette marque d'indifférence, quelque chose de romanesque, et au milieu de mes larmes se formait un sourire qui n'était que l'ébauche timide d'un baiser. Et quand vint l'heure du courrier, je me dis ce soir-là comme tous les autres: Je vais recevoir une lettre de Gilberte, elle va me dire enfin qu'elle n'a jamais cessé de m'aimer, et m'expliquera la raison mystérieuse pour laquelle elle a été forcée de me le cacher jusqu'ici, de faire semblant de pouvoir être heureuse sans me voir, la raison pour laquelle elle a pris l'apparence de la Gilberte simple camarade.
Tous les soirs je me plaisais à imaginer cette lettre, je croyais la lire, je m'en récitais chaque phrase. Tout d'un coup je m'arrêtais effrayé. Je comprenais que si je devais recevoir une lettre de Gilberte, ce ne pourrait pas en tous cas être celle-là puisque c'était moi qui venais de la composer. Et dès lors, je m'efforçais de détourner ma pensée des mots que j'aurais aimé qu'elle m'écrivît, par peur en les énonçant, d'exclure justement ceux-là,—les plus chers, les plus désirés—, du champ des réalisations possibles. Même si par une invraisemblable coïncidence, c'eût été justement la lettre que j'avais inventée que de son côté m'eût adressée Gilberte, y reconnaissant mon œuvre je n'eusse pas eu l'impression de recevoir quelque chose qui ne vînt pas de moi, quelque chose de réel, de nouveau, un bonheur extérieur à mon esprit, indépendant de ma volonté, vraiment donné par l'amour. ~ Marcel Proust,#NFDB
330:Je cherchais une âme qui et me ressemblât, et je ne pouvais pas la trouver. Je fouillais tous les recoins de la terre; ma persévérance était inutile. Cependant, je ne pouvais pas rester seul. Il fallait quelqu’un qui approuvât mon caractère; il fallait quelqu’un qui eût les mêmes idées que moi. C’était le matin; le soleil se leva à l’horizon, dans toute sa magnificence, et voilà qu’à mes yeux se lève aussi un jeune homme, dont la présence engendrait les fleurs sur son passage. Il s’approcha de moi, et, me tendant la main: "Je suis venu vers toi, toi, qui me cherches. Bénissons ce jour heureux." Mais, moi: "Va-t’en; je ne t’ai pas appelé: je n’ai pas besoin de ton amitié."
C’était le soir; la nuit commençait à étendre la noirceur de son voile sur la nature. Une belle femme, que je ne faisais que distinguer, étendait aussi sur moi son influence enchanteresse, et me regardait avec compassion; cependant, elle n’osait me parler. Je dis: "Approche-toi de moi, afin que je distingue nettement les traits de ton visage; car, la lumière des étoiles n’est pas assez forte, pour les éclairer à cette distance." Alors, avec une démarche modeste, et les yeux baissés, elle foula l’herbe du gazon, en se dirigeant de mon côté. Dès que je la vis: "Je vois que la bonté et la justice ont fait résidence dans ton coeur: nous ne pourrions pas vivre ensemble. Maintenant, tu admires ma beauté, qui a bouleversé plus d’une; mais, tôt ou tard, tu te repentirais de m’avoir consacré ton amour; car, tu ne connais pas mon âme. Non que je te sois jamais infidèle: celle qui se livre à moi avec tant d’abandon et de confiance, avec autant de confiance et d’abandon, je me livre à elle; mais, mets-le dans ta tête, pour ne jamais l’oublier: les loups et les agneaux ne se regardent pas avec des yeux doux."
Que me fallait-il donc, à moi, qui rejetais, avec tant de dégoût, ce qu’il y avait de plus beau dans l’humanité! ~ Comte de Lautr amont,#NFDB
331:Our family was starting. We kept on moving with our young lives, shortly afterward and took Ben Young with us everywhere. But pretty soon Pegi started noticing that Ben was not doing the things some other babies were doing. Pegi was wondering if something was wrong. She was young, and nothing had ever gone wrong in her life. People told us kids grow at different rates and do things at different times.
But as Ben reached six months old, we found ourselves sitting in a doctor's office. He glanced at us and offhandedly said, "Of course. Ben has cerebral palsy."
I was in shock. I walked around in a for for weeks. I couldn't fathom how I had fathered two children with a rare condition that was not supposed to be hereditary, with tow different mothers. I was so angry and confused inside, projecting scenarios in my mind where people said something bad about Ben or Zeke and I would just attack them, going wild. Luckily that never did happen, but there was a root of instability inside me for a while. Although it mellowed with time, I carried that feeling around for years.
Eventually Pegi and I, wanting to have another child after Ben, went to se an expert of the subject. That was Pegi's idea. Always organized and methodical in her approach to problems, Pegi planned an approach to our dilemma with her very high intelligence. We both loved children but were a little gun-shy about having another, to say the least. After evaluating our situation and our children, the doctor told us that probably Zeke dis not actually have CP-he likely had suffered a stroke in utero. The symptoms are very similar. Pegi and I weighed this information. To know someone like her and to make a decision about a subject as important as this with her was a gift beyond anything I have ever experienced. It was her idea, and she had guided us to this point. We made a decision together to go forward and have another child. ~ Neil Young,#NFDB
332:Breitmann In Holland. Leyden.
TIS shveet to valk in Holland towns
Apout de twilicht tide,
Vhen all ish shdill on proad canals,
Safe vhere a poat may clide.
Shdrange light on darkenin vater falls,
In long soft lines afar,
Der abenddroth on dunkelheit,
Vitch shows - or hides - a star.
De pridges risen all aroundt
So quaindly, left und right,
Pedween each pridge und shattow, lies,
A lemon of yellow light,
Und das volk a-goin ober,
So darklin onwarts pass,
Dey look like Chinese shattows - shown
Apofe a lookin-glass.
All shdiller grows, und shdiller,
Sogar die efenin preeze,
Ish only heardt far ober het
In dese long lines of drees;
A real oldt Holland feelin
Cooms gadderin ober all,
You'd nefer dink a sturm hat peen
Oopon dis Grand Canawl.
De nople houses! - how dey'd mofe
An old New Yorker's heart,
Time vas - twix dese und dose at home
You couldn't tell 'em part,
Mit crate brass knockers on de toors,
Und parlors town so low
You see de crates a glowin prite
O'er carbets ash you go.
Dere's comfort-full of avery dings,
You veel it ash you look,
You knows de volks ish opulend,
67
Und keep a bully cook;
Und oopon de high camine,
Or here und dere on shelf,
Dere's Japanesisch dings in rows,
Pe mingled oop mit delf.
Dere's noding in dis Holland life,
Vitch seems of present day,
De fery shildren in de shdreeds
Look quaintlich as dey blay;
De liddle rosy housemaids,
In bicdures vell I know,
De dames und heers hafe all an air
Of sixdy years ago.
They may dalk of anciendt hishdory
Und for romantisch seek,
De ding dat mofes most teeply ish
Old-vashioned - not antique.
O if you live in Leyden town
You'll meet, if troot' pe told,
De forms of all de freunds who tied
Vhen du werst six years old.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
333:MOŽDA SPAVA
Zaboravio sam jutros pesmu jednu ja.
Pesmu jednu u snu što sam svu noć slušao:
Da je čujem uzalud sam danas kušao,
Kao da je pesma bila sreća moja sva.
Zaboravio sam jutros pesmu jednu ja.
U snu svome nisam znao za buđenja moć,
I da zemlji treba sunca, jutra i zore;
Da u danu gube zvezde bele odore;
Bledi mesec da se kreće u umrlu noć.
U snu svome nisam znao za buđenja moć.
Ja sad jedva mogu znati da imadoh san.
I u njemu oči neke, nebo nečije,
Neko lice ne znam kakvo,možda dečije,
Staru pesmu,stare zvezde, neki stari dan,
Ja sad jedva mogu znati da imadoh san.
Ne sećam se ničeg više, ni očiju tih:
Kao da je san mi ceo bio od pene,
Il' te oči da su moja duša van mene;
Ni arije, ni sveg drugog, što ja noćas snih:
Ne sećam se ničeg više, ni očiju tih.
Ali slutim, a slutiti još jedino znam.
Ja sad slutim za te oči da su baš one
Što me čudno po životu vode i gone:
U snu dođu da me vide šta li radim sam.
Ali slutim, a slutiti još jedino znam.
Da me vide, dođu oči, i ja vidim tad
I te oči, i tu ljubav, i taj put sreće;
Njene oči, njeno lice, njeno proleće
U snu vidim, ali ne znam što ne vidim sad.
Da me vide, dođu oči, i ja vidim tad;
Njenu glavu s krunom kose i u kosi cvet,
I njen pogled što me gleda kao iz cveća,
Što me gleda, što mi kaže da me oseća,
Što mi brižno pruža odmor i nežnosti svet,
Njenu glavu s krunom kose i u kosi cvet.
Ja sad nemam svoju dragu, i njen ne znam glas;
Ne znam mesto na kom živi ili počiva;
Ne znam zašto nju i san mi java pokriva;
Možda spava, i grob tužno neguje joj stas,
Ja sad nemam svoju dragu, i njen ne znam glas.
Možda spava sa očima izvan svakog zla,
Izvan stvari, iluzija, izvan života,
I s njom spava, neviđena, njena lepota;
Možda živi i doći će posle ovog sna.
Možda spava sa očima izvan svakog zla. ~ Vladislav Petkovi Dis,#NFDB
334:Dornenlieder
I.
FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
Dey say dere comes a dorn.
Boot let dem say yoost vot dey will,
Dis ding I will soopose,
I'll immer prick mein finger still,
If I may pfluck die Ros'.
Ach, Rosalein, du schone mein,
Dot man vas nefer born
Vot did deserfe to win de Rose,
Vot couldt not stand de Dorn.
Blutfarbig ist die schone Ros',
Und dot ist yoost a sign
Dot I moost lose a liddle Blut
To make de Rose mein.
Wer Rosen bricht die Finger sticht;
Das ist mir ganz egal,
Der bricht sie auch in Winter nicht,
Und kits no Rose at all.
Was wir hier treiben und kosen, love,
De joy or misery,
Soll bleiben unter der Rosen, love!
Und our own secret pe!
II.
Von Dorn ride out in hoonting gear,
Mit his horse und his Hunde too,
Und his mutter she say,
'Bring home a deer,
Mein Sohn, votefer you do!'
'You know, gewiss, dot I nefer miss,
Und ven you hear mine horn,
Pe sure dot a deer is comin' here,'
Said der Ritter Veit von Dorn,
114
Mit his deer so fein, tra la la la!
Mit his deer so fine, tra le!
Tra la la - tra la la la!
Tra la la - la la le!
Von Dorn he ridet im greenen wood
Till dere, peneat a dree,
He sah a maid wie Milch und Blut.
As fair ash a maid could pe.
Und der Ritter he spies her great plack eyes,
'Id's petter, I'll pe shwore,
To hafe a dear oopon two feet
Dan von dot roons on four.
Mit a deer so fein, tra la la la!
Mit a deer so fine, tra le!
Tra la la - tra la la la!
Tra la la - la de le!
Der Ritter ridet pack to home:
'Ach, mutter - all ist goot;
I prings you here de finest dear
In all de greene woot.'
De mutter she looks, mit joy surprise,
'Hast Recht, mein lieber Sohn;
Dere vas nefer a deer vot hafe soosh eyes
Ash de dear vot you hafe won!'
Mit her eyes so plack, tra la, la la!
Mit her eyes so plack, tra le!
Tra, la, la - tra la, la, la!
Tra la la - la de le!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
335:Si pour un instant Dieu m'offrait un morceau de vie, je profiterais de ce temps le plus possible …
Je suppose que je ne dirais pas tout ce que je pense, mais je penserais à tout ce que je dis.
Je donnerais une valeur aux choses, pour ce qu'elles signifient.
Je dormirais peu, je rêverais plus, je crois que chaque minute passée les yeux fermés représentent soixante secondes en moins de lumière.
Je marcherais quand les autres s'arrêtent, je me réveillerais quand les autres dorment.
Je donnerais des ailes à un enfant, mais je le laisserais apprendre à voler seul. J'enseignerais aux vieux que la mort ne vient pas avec l'âge mais avec l'oubli.
J'ai appris tant de choses des hommes …
J'ai appris que tout le monde veut vivre au sommet de la montagne, sans savoir que le véritable bonheur c'est dans la manière de l'escalader.
J'ai appris que quand un nouveau-né serre fort de son petit point, pour la première fois, la main de son père, il le retient pour toujours.
J'ai appris qu'un homme n'a le droit d'en regarder un autre de haut que pour l'aider à se lever.
Dis toujours ce que tu sens, fais ce que tu penses.
Il y a toujours un lendemain, et la vie nous donne une autre occasion de faire bien des choses : mais si jamais je n'ai plus que ce jour, j'aimerais dire à tous ceux que j'aime combien je les aime.
Le lendemain n'est garanti à personne, qu'il soit jeune ou vieux …
Aujourd'hui peut … être le dernier jour où tu vois ceux que tu aimes.
N'attends pas, fais-le aujourd'hui, car, si demain ne vient pas, tu regretteras de n'avoir pas pris le temps d'un sourire, d'une caresse, d'un baiser, trop occupé que tu étais.
Garde près de toi ceux que tu aimes, dis-leur à l'oreille combien tu as besoin d'eux, aime-les et traite-les bien, prends le temps de dire "je regrette", "pardonne-moi, s'il te plaît", "merci", et tous les mots d'amour que tu connais.
Demande au Seigneur la force et la sagesse de les exprimer.
Car personne ne se souviendra de tes pensées secrètes.
Il faut qu'elles soit dites … avant que tout soit consommé. ~ Unknown,#NFDB
336:Wein Geist
I STOOMPLED oud ov a dafern,
Breauscht mit a gallon of wein,
Und I rooshed along de strassen,
Like a derriple Eberschwein.
Und like a lordly boar-pig,
I doomplet de soper folk;
Und I trowed a shtone droo a shdreed lamp,
Und bot' of de classes I proke.
Und a gal vent roonin' bast me,
Like a vild coose on de vings,
Boot I gatch her for all her skreechin',
Und giss her like efery dings.
Und denn mit an board und a parell,
I blay de horse-viddle a biece,
Dill de neighbours shkreem 'deat'!' und 'murder!'
Und holler aloudt 'bolice!'
Und vhen der crim night waechter
Says all of dis foon moost shtop,
I oop mit mein oomberella,
Und schlog him ober de kop.
I leaf him like tead on de bavemend,
Und roosh droo a darklin' lane,
Dill moonlighd und tisdand musik,
Pring me roundt to my soul again.
Und I sits all oonder de linden,
De hearts-leaf linden dree;
Und I dink of de quick gevanisht lofe
Dat vent like de vind from me.
Und I voonders in mine dipsyhood,
If a damsel or dream vas she!
Dis life is all a lindens
Mit holes dat show de plue,
174
Und pedween de finite pranches
Cooms Himmel-light shinin' troo.
De blaetter are raushlin' o'er me,
Und efery leaf ish a fay,
Und dey vait dill de windsbraut comet,
To pear dem in Fall afay.
Denn I coomed to a rock py der rifer,
Vhere a stein ish of harpe form,
-Jahrdausand in, oud, it standet'Und nopody blays but de shtorm.
Here, vonce on a dimes, a vitches,
Soom melodies here peginned,
De harpe ward all zu steine,
Die melodie ward zu wind.
Und so mit dis tox-i-gation,
Vitch hardens de outer Me;
Ueber stein and schwein, de weine
Shdill harps oud a melodie.
Boot deeper de Ur-lied ringet',
Ober stein und wein und svines,
Dill it endeth vhere all peginnet,
Und alles wird ewig zu eins,
In de dipsy, treamless sloomper
Vhich units de Nichts und Seyns.
Und im Mondenlicht it moormoors,
Und it burns by waken wein,
In Madchenlieb or Schnapsenrausch
Das Absolut ist dein.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
337:To A Friend Studying German
VILL'ST dou learn die Deutsche Sprache?
Denn set it on your card,
Dat all the nouns have shenders,
Und de shenders all are hard.
Dere ish also dings called pronoms,
Vitch id's shoost ash vell to know;
Boot ach! de verbs or time-wordsDey'll work you bitter woe.
Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprche?
Den you allatag moost go
To sinfonies, sonatas,
Or an oratorio.
Vhen you dinks you knows 'pout musik,
More ash any other man,
Be sure de soul of Deutschland
Into your soul ish ran.
Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache?
Dou moost eat apout a peck
A week of stinging sauerkraut,
Und sefen pfoundts of speck.
Mit Gott knows vot in vinegar,
Und deuce knows vot in rum:
Dis ish de only cerdain vay
To make de accents coom.
Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache?
Brepare dein soul to shtand
Soosh sendences ash ne'er vas heardt
In any oder land.
Till dou canst make parentheses
Intwisted-ohne zahlDann wirst du erst Deutschfertig seyn,
For a languashe ideal.
Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache?
Du must mitout an fear
Trink afery tay an gallon dry,
172
Of foamin Sherman bier.
Und de more you trinks, pe certain,
More Deutsch you'll surely pe;
For Gambrinus ish de Emperor
Of de whole of Germany.
Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache?
Be sholly, brav, und treu,
For dat veller ish kein Deutscher
Who ish not a sholly poy.
Find out vot means Gemutlichkeit,
Und do it mitout fail,
In Sang und Klang dein Lebenlang,
A brick-ganz kreuzfidel.
Willst dou learn de Deutsche Sprache?
If a shendleman dou art,
Denn shtrike right indo Deutschland,
Und get a schveetes heart.
From Schwabenland or Sachsen
Vhere now dis writer pees;
Und de bretty girls all wachsen
Shoost like aepples on de drees.
Boot if dou bee'st a laty,
Denn on de oder hand,
Take a blonde moustachioed lofer
In de vine green Sherman land.
Und if you shoost kit married
(Vood mit vood soon makes a vire),
You'll learn to sprechen Deutsch mein kind,
Ash fast ash you tesire.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
338:Am Rhein. - No. Ii.
AM Rhein! Acain am Rheine!
In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
Ash ve go sailin 'long.
Und von fair Englisch dame
Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Vene'er der Breitmann saw her,
Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
Boot more like fallin tears.
Und shpecdagles were o'er dem,
De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
Less dey pe shdrucken blind.
Und gazin in dem glasses,
Reflected he pehold
De Rhine, mit all de shdeam-poats,
Und crags in Sonnengold.
De signs upon de bier-haus;
De gals a-washin close;
De wein-garts on de moundain,
Like heafenly shdairs in rows:
De banks, basaltic-paven,
Like bee-hife cells to view;
A donkey shtandin on dem,
Likevise her lofer too.
All dis oopon dos glasses
Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate'er vas nodiced,
Py de schone Englandrinn.
Boot oh! de fery lofe-most
Of all dat lofe-most pe
Her own plue veilchen AugenHerself she couldt not see.
So ist es in dis Leben;
For beaudy oft we spied,
Nor know de cratest peaudy
Ish in our soul inside.
Mein Gott! Vot himmlisch shplendor
Vas seen mitout an toubt,
If some crate bower supernal
Vas toorn oos insite out!
Und gazin long on Natur,
Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite voruber,
Ash since de vorldt pegan:
Ash in dat laity's glasses,
Ve see dem bassin py;
Yet veel a soul beneat' dem,
A schweet eternal eye.
O schone Englisch maiden
Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a beinen korb
Had got oopsettet dereUnd all de schweetness of your soul
Vas dripplin from your brain!
Oh shall I efer meet mit dir
Oopon dis eart' acain?
O Englisch engel maiden!
O schveet betaubend dofe!
O Rheinwein und cigarren!
O luncheon, mixed mit lofe!
O Drachenfels und Nonnenwerth!
O Liebeslust und pein!
Dus ents de second chapterlet
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
339:Si pour un instant Dieu m'offrait un morceau de vie, je profiterais de ce temps le plus possible. Je suppose que je ne dirais pas tout ce que je pense, mais je penserais à tout ce que je dis.
Je donnerais une valeur aux choses, pour ce qu'elles signifient.
Je dormirais peu, je rêverais plus, je crois que chaque minute passée les yeux fermés représentent soixante secondes en moins de lumière.
Je marcherais quand les autres s'arrêtent, je me réveillerais quand les autres dorment.
Je donnerais des ailes à un enfant, mais je le laisserais apprendre à voler seul. J'enseignerais aux vieux que la mort ne vient pas avec l'âge mais avec l'oubli.
J'ai appris tant de choses des hommes.
J'ai appris que tout le monde veut vivre au sommet de la montagne, sans savoir que le véritable bonheur c'est dans la manière de l'escalader.
J'ai appris que quand un nouveau-né serre fort de son petit point, pour la première fois, la main de son père, il le retient pour toujours.
J'ai appris qu'un homme n'a le droit d'en regarder un autre de haut que pour l'aider à se lever.
Dis toujours ce que tu sens, fais ce que tu penses.
Il y a toujours un lendemain, et la vie nous donne une autre occasion de faire bien des choses : mais si jamais je n'ai plus que ce jour, j'aimerais dire à tous ceux que j'aime combien je les aime.
Le lendemain n'est garanti à personne, qu'il soit jeune ou vieux.
Aujourd'hui peut être le dernier jour où tu vois ceux que tu aimes.
N'attends pas, fais-le aujourd'hui, car, si demain ne vient pas, tu regretteras de n'avoir pas pris le temps d'un sourire, d'une caresse, d'un baiser, trop occupé que tu étais.
Garde près de toi ceux que tu aimes, dis-leur à l'oreille combien tu as besoin d'eux, aime-les et traite-les bien, prends le temps de dire "je regrette", "pardonne-moi, s'il te plaît", "merci", et tous les mots d'amour que tu connais.
Demande au Seigneur la force et la sagesse de les exprimer.
Car personne ne se souviendra de tes pensées secrètes.
Il faut qu'elles soit dites, avant que tout, soit consommé.
NB: Certains disent que c'est une lettre écrite par Gabriel Garcias Marquez et certains disent qu'elle écrite par un inconnu. ~ Unknown,#NFDB
340:Si pour un instant Dieu m'offrait un morceau de vie, je profiterais de ce temps le plus possible. Je suppose que je ne dirais pas tout ce que je pense, mais je penserais à tout ce que je dis.
Je donnerais une valeur aux choses, pour ce qu'elles signifient.
Je dormirais peu, je rêverais plus, je crois que chaque minute passée les yeux fermés représentent soixante secondes en moins de lumière.
Je marcherais quand les autres s'arrêtent, je me réveillerais quand les autres dorment.
Je donnerais des ailes à un enfant, mais je le laisserais apprendre à voler seul. J'enseignerais aux vieux que la mort ne vient pas avec l'âge mais avec l'oubli.
J'ai appris tant de choses des hommes.
J'ai appris que tout le monde veut vivre au sommet de la montagne, sans savoir que le véritable bonheur c'est dans la manière de l'escalader.
J'ai appris que quand un nouveau-né serre fort de son petit point, pour la première fois, la main de son père, il le retient pour toujours.
J'ai appris qu'un homme n'a le droit d'en regarder un autre de haut que pour l'aider à se lever.
Dis toujours ce que tu sens, fais ce que tu penses.
Il y a toujours un lendemain, et la vie nous donne une autre occasion de faire bien des choses : mais si jamais je n'ai plus que ce jour, j'aimerais dire à tous ceux que j'aime combien je les aime.
Le lendemain n'est garanti à personne, qu'il soit jeune ou vieux.
Aujourd'hui peut être le dernier jour où tu vois ceux que tu aimes.
N'attends pas, fais-le aujourd'hui, car, si demain ne vient pas, tu regretteras de n'avoir pas pris le temps d'un sourire, d'une caresse, d'un baiser, trop occupé que tu étais.
Garde près de toi ceux que tu aimes, dis-leur à l'oreille combien tu as besoin d'eux, aime-les et traite-les bien, prends le temps de dire "je regrette", "pardonne-moi, s'il te plaît", "merci", et tous les mots d'amour que tu connais.
Demande au Seigneur la force et la sagesse de les exprimer.
Car personne ne se souviendra de tes pensées secrètes.
Il faut qu'elles soit dites, avant que tout, soit consommé.
NB: Certains disent que c'est une lettre écrite par Gabriel Garcias Marquez et certains disent qu'elle est écrite par un inconnu. ~ Unknown,#NFDB
341:J’allais ouvrir la bouche et aborder cette fille , quand quelqu’un me toucha l’épaule. Je me retournai, surpris, et j’aperçus un homme d’aspect ordinaire, ni jeune ni vieux, qui me regardait d’un air triste.
— Je voudrais vous parler, dit-il.
Je fis une grimace qu’il vit sans doute, car il ajouta :
— « C’est important. »
Je me levai et le suivis à l’autre bout du bateau :
— « Monsieur, reprit-il, quand l’hiver approche avec les froids, la pluie et la neige, votre médecin vous dit chaque jour : « Tenez-vous les pieds bien chauds, gardez-vous des refroidissements, des rhumes, des bronchites, des pleurésies. » Alors vous prenez mille précautions, vous portez de la flanelle, des pardessus épais, des gros souliers, ce qui ne vous empêche pas toujours de passer deux mois au lit. Mais quand revient le printemps avec ses feuilles et ses fleurs, ses brises chaudes et amollissantes, ses exhalaisons des champs qui vous apportent des troubles vagues, des attendrissements sans cause, il n’est personne qui vienne vous dire : « Monsieur, prenez garde à l’amour ! Il est embusqué partout ; il vous guette à tous les coins ; toutes ses ruses sont tendues, toutes ses armes aiguisées, toutes ses perfidies préparées ! Prenez garde à l’amour !… Prenez garde à l’amour ! Il est plus dangereux que le rhume, la bronchite et la pleurésie ! Il ne pardonne pas, et fait commettre à tout le monde des bêtises irréparables. » Oui, monsieur, je dis que, chaque année, le gouvernement devrait faire mettre sur les murs de grandes affiches avec ces mots : « Retour du printemps. Citoyens français, prenez garde à l’amour ; » de même qu’on écrit sur la porte des maisons : « Prenez garde à la peinture ! » — Eh bien, puisque le gouvernement ne le fait pas, moi je le remplace, et je vous dis : « Prenez garde à l’amour ; il est en train de vous pincer, et j’ai le devoir de vous prévenir comme on prévient, en Russie, un passant dont le nez gèle. »
Je demeurai stupéfait devant cet étrange particulier, et, prenant un air digne :
— « Enfin, monsieur, vous me paraissez vous mêler de ce qui ne vous regarde guère. »
Il fit un mouvement brusque, et répondit :
— « Oh ! monsieur ! monsieur ! si je m’aperçois qu’un homme va se noyer dans un endroit dangereux, il faut donc le laisser périr ? ~ Guy de Maupassant,#NFDB
342:When people dis fantasy—mainstream readers and SF readers alike—they are almost always talking about one sub-genre of fantastic literature. They are talking about Tolkien, and Tolkien's innumerable heirs. Call it 'epic', or 'high', or 'genre' fantasy, this is what fantasy has come to mean. Which is misleading as well as unfortunate.
Tolkien is the wen on the arse of fantasy literature. His oeuvre is massive and contagious—you can't ignore it, so don't even try. The best you can do is consciously try to lance the boil. And there's a lot to dislike—his cod-Wagnerian pomposity, his boys-own-adventure glorying in war, his small-minded and reactionary love for hierarchical status-quos, his belief in absolute morality that blurs moral and political complexity. Tolkien's clichés—elves 'n' dwarfs 'n' magic rings—have spread like viruses. He wrote that the function of fantasy was 'consolation', thereby making it an article of policy that a fantasy writer should mollycoddle the reader.
That is a revolting idea, and one, thankfully, that plenty of fantasists have ignored. From the Surrealists through the pulps—via Mervyn Peake and Mikhael Bulgakov and Stefan Grabiński and Bruno Schulz and Michael Moorcock and M. John Harrison and I could go on—the best writers have used the fantastic aesthetic precisely to challenge, to alienate, to subvert and undermine expectations.
Of course I'm not saying that any fan of Tolkien is no friend of mine—that would cut my social circle considerably. Nor would I claim that it's impossible to write a good fantasy book with elves and dwarfs in it—Michael Swanwick's superb ,#NFDB
343:When people dis fantasy—mainstream readers and SF readers alike—they are almost always talking about one sub-genre of fantastic literature. They are talking about Tolkien, and Tolkien's innumerable heirs. Call it 'epic', or 'high', or 'genre' fantasy, this is what fantasy has come to mean. Which is misleading as well as unfortunate.
Tolkien is the wen on the arse of fantasy literature. His oeuvre is massive and contagious—you can't ignore it, so don't even try. The best you can do is consciously try to lance the boil. And there's a lot to dislike—his cod-Wagnerian pomposity, his boys-own-adventure glorying in war, his small-minded and reactionary love for hierarchical status-quos, his belief in absolute morality that blurs moral and political complexity. Tolkien's clichés—elves 'n' dwarfs 'n' magic rings—have spread like viruses. He wrote that the function of fantasy was 'consolation', thereby making it an article of policy that a fantasy writer should mollycoddle the reader.
That is a revolting idea, and one, thankfully, that plenty of fantasists have ignored. From the Surrealists through the pulps—via Mervyn Peake and Mikhael Bulgakov and Stefan Grabiński and Bruno Schulz and Michael Moorcock and M. John Harrison and I could go on—the best writers have used the fantastic aesthetic precisely to challenge, to alienate, to subvert and undermine expectations.
Of course I'm not saying that any fan of Tolkien is no friend of mine—that would cut my social circle considerably. Nor would I claim that it's impossible to write a good fantasy book with elves and dwarfs in it—Michael Swanwick's superb ,#NFDB
344:The Author Asserts
DERE'S a liddle fact in hishdory vitch few hafe oondershtand,
Deutschers are, de jure, de owners of dis land,
Und I brides mineslf oonshpeak-barly dat I foorst make be-known,
De primordial cause dat Columbus vas derivet from Cologne.
For ash his name vas Colon, it fisiply does shine,
Dat his Eldern are geboren been in Cologne on der Rhein,
Und Colonia peing a colony, it sehr bemerkbar ist,
Dat Columbus in America was der firster colonist.
Und ash Columbus ish a tove, id ish wort' de drople to mark,
Dat an bidgeon foorst tiscofer land a-vlyin' from de ark;
Und shtill wider - in de peginnin', mitout de leastest toubt,
A tofe vas vly ofer de wassers und pring de vorldt herout.
Ash mein goot oldt teacher der Kreutzer to me tid ofden shbeak,
De mythus of name rebeats itself - vhitch see in his 'Symbolik,'
So also de name America, if we a liddle look,
Vas coom from der oldt king Emerich in de Deutsche Heldenbuch.
Und id vas from dat fery Heldenbuch - how voonderful it ron,
Dat I shdole de Song of Hildebrand, or der Vater und der Sohn,
Und dishtripude it to Breitemann for a reason vhitch now ish plain,
Dat dis Sagen Cyclus full-endet, pring me round to der Hans again.
Dese laws of un-endly un-windoong ish so teep and broad and tall,
Dat nopody boot a Deutscher hafe a het to versteh dem at all,
Und should I write mine dinks all out, I tont peliefe inteed,
Dat I mineslf vould versteh de half of dis here Breitmann's Lied.
Ash der Hegel say of his system - dat only von mans knew,
Vot der tyfel id meant - und he couldn't tell - und der
Jean Paul Richter, too,
Who saidt: 'Gott knows I meant somedings vhen
foorst dis buch I writ,
Boot Gott only wise vot das buch means now - for I
hafe fergotten it!'
Und all of dis be-wises so blain ash de face on your nose,
160
Dat der Deutscher hafe efen more intellects dan he himself soopose,
Und his tifference mit de over-again vorldt, as I really
do soospect,
Ish dat oder volk hafe more soopose - und lesser intellect.
Yet oop-righty I confess it - mitout ashkin' vhy or vhence,
Dere ish also dimes vhen Amerigans hafe shown sharp-pointet sense,
Und a fery outsigned exemple of genius in dis line,
Vas dishblayed in dis elegdion py Mishder Hiram Twine.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
345:The majority of Buddhists and Buddhist teachers in the West are green postmodern pluralists, and thus Buddhism is largely interpreted in terms of the green altitude and the pluralistic value set, whereas the greatest Buddhist texts are all 2nd tier, teal (Holistic) or higher (for example, Lankavatara Sutra, Kalachakra Tantra, Longchenpa's Kindly Bent to Ease Us, Nagarjuna's Madhyamaka treatises, and so forth).
This makes teal (Holistic), or Integral 2nd tier in general, the lowest deeply adequate level with which to interpret Buddhism, ultimate Reality, and Suchness itself. Thus, interpreting Suchness in pluralistic terms (or lower) would have to be viewed ultimately as a dysfunction, certainly a case of arrested development, and one requiring urgent attention in any Fourth Turning.
These are some of the problems with interpreting states (in this case, Suchness states) with a too-low structure (in short, a severe misinterpretation and thus misunderstanding of the Ultimate). As for interpreting them with dysfunctional structures (of any altitude), the problem more or less speaks for itself. Whether the structure in itself is high enough or not, any malformation of the structure will be included in the interpretation of any state (or any other experience), and hence will deform the interpretation itself, usually in the same basic ways as the structure itself is deformed. Thus, for example, if there is a major Fulcrum-3 (red altitude) repression of various bodily states (sex, aggression, power, feelings), those repressions will be interpreted as part of the higher state itself, and so the state will thus be viewed as devoid of (whereas this is actually a repression of) any sex, aggression, power, feelings, or whatever it is that is dis-owned and pushed into the repressed submergent unconscious. If there is an orange altitude problem with self-esteem (Fulcrum-5), that problem will be magnified by the state experience, and the more intense the state experience, the greater the magnification. Too little self-esteem, and even profound spiritual experiences can be interpreted as "I'm not worthy, so this state-which seems to love me unconditionally-must be confused." If too much self-esteem, higher experiences are misinterpreted, not as a transcendence of the self, but as a reward for being the amazing self I am-"the wonder of being me." ~ Ken Wilber, The Religion Of Tomorrow,#NFDB
346:Ole Wirginny
In a little log house in Ole Wirginny,
Sum niggas lib dat cum from Guinny;
Dare massas flog' em berry little But gib dem plenty work and wittle.
Ole Massa Jim, real clebber body,
Ebbery day he gib dem toddy,
An' wen de sun fall in de ribber,
Dey stop de work - an' res de libber.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
At night dey gadder round de fire
To ta'k ob tings wot hab perspire De ashes on de tater toss 'em,
Parch de corn an' roast de possum;
An' arter dat de niggas splutter,
An' hop an' dance de Chicken Flutter.
Da happy den an' hab no bodder Dey snug as rat in a stack-a-fodder,
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
'Twas on the nineteenf day of October,
When de Juba dance was ober;
Dey he' a great noise dat soun' like t'under,
Which make de niggas stare and wonder!
Now Cæsar say, he lay a dolla',
De debbil in de corn, for he hea'd him holler;
But Cuffee grin an say, 'Now cum see,
I b'lieb it's nott'in' but possum up a gum tree.'
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
Den one nigga run an' open de winda,
De moon rush in like fire on a tinder;
De noise soun' plainer, de niggas got fri'ten' Dey tink 'twas a mixture ob t'under and litenin'.
Some grate brack mob come cross de medder,
Da kine-a roll demsel's togedder;
But soon dey journ' dis exhalation,
Was nott'in' more dan de niggas from anoder plantation.
Chah! chah! dat de way
219
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
Dese noisy bracks surroun' de dwellin',
While de news one nigga got a-tellin';
De res ob 'em grin to hear ole Quashy
Menshun de name ob Gineral Washy.
He say dat day, in Yorktown Holler,
Massa George cotch ole Cornwaller;
An' seben t'ousand corn off him shell him Leff him nott'in' more'n a cob for to tell him.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
He say, 'Den arter all dis 'fusion,
Dat was de en ob de rebolushun;
An nex day all roun' dat quarter,
Dey gwaing for to keep him as dey ort to.'
An dat dare massas 'specially say den,
De niggas mought hab hollowday den;
An dey mout hab rum all day to be quaffin',
All de niggas den buss right out a-laffin'.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
~ Anonymous Americas,#NFDB
347:Breitmann In Paris
DER teufel's los in Bal Mabille,
Dere's hell-fire in de air,
De fiddlers can't blay noding else
Boot Orphee aux Enfers:
Vot makes de beoples howl mit shoy?
Da capo - Bravo! - bis!!
It's a Deutscher aus Amerika:
Hans Breitmann in Paris.
Dere's silber toughts vot might hafe peen,
Dere's golden deeds vot must:
Der Hans ish come to Frankenland
On one eternal bust.
Der same old rowdy Argonaut
Vot hoont de same oldt vleece,
A hafin all de foon dere ishDer Breitmann in Paris.
Mit a gal on eider shoulder
A holdin py his beard,
He tantz de Cancan, sacrament!
Dill all das Volk vas skeered.
Like a roarin hippopatamos,
Mit a kangarunic shoomp,
Dey feared he'd smash de Catacombs,
Each dime der Breitmann bump.
De pretty liddle cocodettes
Lofe efery dings ish new,
'D'ou vient il donc ce grand M'sieu?
O sacre nom de Dieu!'
In fain dey kicks deir veet on high,
And sky like vlyin geese,
Dey can not kick de hat afay
From Breitmann in Paris.
O vhere vas id der Breitmann life?
Oopon de Rond Point gay,
Vot shdreet lie shoost pehind his house?
79
La rue de Rabelais.
Aroundt de corner Harper's shtands
Vhere Yankee drinks dey mill,
Vhile shdraight ahet, agross de shdreet,
Der lies de Bal Mabille.
Id's all along de Elysees,
Id's oop de Boulevarce,
He's sampled all de weinshops,
Und he's vinked at efery garce.
Dou schveet plack-silken Gabrielle,
O let me learn from dee,
If 'tis in lofe - or absinthe drunks,
Dat dis wild ghost may pe?
Und dou may'st kneel in Notre Dame,
Und veep away dy sin,
Vhile I go vight at Barriere balls,
Oontil mine poots cave in;
Boot if ve pray, or if ve sinVhile nodings ish refuse,
Tis all de same in Paris here,
So long ash l'on s'amuse.
O life, mein dear, at pest or vorst,
Ish boot a vancy ball,
Its cratest shoy a vild gallop,
Vhere madness goferns all.
Und should dey toorn ids gas-light off,
Und nefer leafe a shbark,
Sdill I'd find my vay to Heafen - orDy lips, lofe, in de dark.
O crown your het mit roses, lofe!
O keep a liddel sprung!
Oonendless wisdom ish but dis:
To go it vhile you're yung!
Und Age vas nefer coom to him,
To him Spring plooms afresh,
Who finds a livin' spirit in
Der Teufel und der Flesh.
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~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
348:Kaiser And Co. Or Hoch Der Kaiser
[Being Wilhelm der Grosser's estimate of himself and partner, translated from
the original Hoch-deutsch.]
Der Kaiser auf der Vaterland
Und Gott on high all dings gommand,
Ve two! Ach! don'd you understandt?
Meinself -- und Gott.
He reigns in Heafen, und always shall,
Und mein own Embire don'd vas small;
Ein noble bair, I dink you call
Meinself -- und Gott.
While some men sing der power divine,
Mein soldiers sing der "Wacht am Rhein,"
Und drink der healt in Rhenish wein,
Auf me -- und Gott.
Dere's France dot swaggers all aroundt,
She ausgespieldt -- she's no aggoundt,
To mooch ve dinks she don't amoundt:
Meinself -- und Gott.
She vill not dare to fight again,
But if she should, I'll show her blain
Dot Elsass und (in French) Lorraine
Are Mein -- und Gott's.
Von Bismarck was a man auf might,
Und dought he vas glean oud auf sight,
But ach! he vas nicht goot to fight
Mit me -- und Gott.
Ve knock him like ein man auf sdraw,
Ve let him know whose vill vas law,
Und dot ve don'd vould sdandt his jaw,
Meinself -- und Got.
Ve send him oudt in big disgrace,
Ve gif him insuldt to his face,
Und put Caprivi in his place,
Meinself -- und Gott.
Und ven Caprivi get svelled headt,
Ve very brombtly on him set,
Und toldt him to get vp and get -Meinself -- und Gott.
Dere's Grandma dinks she's nicht shmall beer,
Mit Boers und dings she interfere;
She'll learn none runs dis hemisphere
But Me -- und Gott.
She dinks, goot frau, some ships she's got,
Und soldiers mit der sgarlet coat,
Ach! ve could knock dem -- pouf! like dot,
Meinself -- und Gott.
Dey say dat badly fooled I vas
At Betersburg by Nicholas,
Und dat I act shust like ein ass
Und dupe, Herr Gott.
Vell, maybe yah und maybe nein,
Und maybe Czar mit France gombine
To take dem lands about der Rhein
From me -- und Gott.
But dey may try dot leedle game,
Und make der breaks; but all der same,
Dey only vill increase der fame
Auf me -- und Gott.
In dimes auf beace, brebared for wars
I bear der helm and sbear auf Mars,
Und care nicht for ten dousand Czars,
Meinself -- und Gott.
In short, I humour efery whim,
Mit aspect dark and visage grim,
Gott pulls mit me und I mit Him -Meinself -- und Gott.
~ Alexander MacGregor Rose,#NFDB
349:Man tends to regard the order he lives in as natural. The houses he passes on his way to work seem more like rocks rising out of the earth than like products of human hands. He considers the work he does in his office or factory as essential to the harmonious functioning of the world. The clothes he wears are exactly what they should be, and he laughs at the idea that he might equally well be wearing a Roman toga or medieval armor. He respects and envies a minister of state or a bank director, and regards the possession of a considerable amount of money the main guarantee of peace and security. He cannot believe that one day a rider may appear on a street he knows well, where cats sleep and children play, and start catching passers-by with his lasso. He is accustomed to satisfying those of his physiological needs which are considered private as discreetly as possible, without realizing that such a pattern of behavior is not common to all human societies. In a word, he behaves a little like Charlie Chaplin in The Gold Rush, bustling about in a shack poised precariously on the edge of a cliff.
His first stroll along a street littered with glass from bomb-shattered windows shakes his faith in the "naturalness" of his world. The wind scatters papers from hastily evacuated offices, papers labeled "Confidential" or "Top Secret" that evoke visions of safes, keys, conferences, couriers, and secretaries. Now the wind blows them through the street for anyone to read; yet no one does, for each man is more urgently concerned with finding a loaf of bread. Strangely enough, the world goes on even though the offices and secret files have lost all meaning. Farther down the street, he stops before a house split in half by a bomb, the privacy of people's homes-the family smells, the warmth of the beehive life, the furniture preserving the memory of loves and hatreds-cut open to public view. The house itself, no longer a rock, but a scaffolding of plaster, concrete, and brick; and on the third floor, a solitary white bath tub, rain-rinsed of all recollection of those who once bathed in it. Its formerly influential and respected owners, now destitute, walk the fields in search of stray potatoes. Thus overnight money loses its value and becomes a meaningless mass of printed paper. His walk takes him past a little boy poking a stick into a heap of smoking ruins and whistling a song about the great leader who will preserve the nation against all enemies. The song remains, but the leader of yesterday is already part of an extinct past. ~ Czes aw Mi osz,#NFDB
350:Breitmann As An Uhlan. V. Breitmann In Biouvac.
HE sits in bivouacke,
By fire, peneat' de drees;
A pottle of champagner
Held shently on his knees;
His lange Uhlan lanze
Stuck py him in de sand;
Vhile a goot peas-poodin' sausage
Adorn his oder hand.
Und jungere Uhlanen
Sit round mit oben mout'
To hear der Breitmann's shdories
Of fitin in de Sout'
Und he gife dem moral lessons,
How pefore de battle pops:
'Take a liddle brayer to Himmel,
Und a goot long trink of schnapps.'
Denn his leutenant bemarket:
'How voonder shdrange it peen
Dat so very many wild pigs
Ish dis year in de Ardennes.
Ash I sout dere - donner'r'wetter!I sah dem coom heraus,
Shoost here und dere an Eber
Mit a hoondert tousand sows.
'Shoost dink of all dese she-picks
Vot flet to neutral land!'
Said Breitmann: 'Fery easy
Ish dis to oonderstand:
Dese schwein-picks mit de sauen
Vot you saw a-roonin rond,
Ish a crate medempsygosis
Of the Frantsche demi-monde.
'I hafe readet in de Bible
How soosh a coterie
Vas ge-toornet into swine-picks,
48
Und roon down indo de see;
Boot since de see aint handy,
Or de picks vere all too dumm,
Dey hafe coot across de porder
Und vly to Belgium.'
Now ash dey boorst oud laughin,
Und got more liquor out,
Dey hearden from de sendry
A shot und denn a shout.
Und Breitmann crasp his sabre
Quick ash de bullet hiss,
Und leapin out, demantet,
'Herr'r'r'r Gott! vat row ish dis?'
Und bold der Schwabian answert:
'Dis minute on de ground
Dere comed a Frantschman greepin,
On all-fours a-prowlin round.
I ask him vat he vanted;
Werda! I gry; boot he
Say nodings to my shallenge,
Und only answer 'Oui.'
'So I shoot him like der teufels,
Und I rader dink our friend,
Dis sneakin Frank-tiroir,
Ish a-drawin to his end.'
So dey hoonted in de pushes,
Und in avery gorner dig,
Boot, mein Gott! how dey vas laughin,
Ven dey found a - mordered pig.
Next week dey hear from Paris,
Und reat in de Gaulois
Of de most adrocious action
De vorlt vas efer saw.
How de Uhlan cannibalen,
Dis vile und awful prood,
Hafe killt a nople Frantschman,
Und cut him oop for food.
49
'Ja - shop him indo sausage,
Und coot him indo ham;
Und schwear dey'll serfe all oders
Exacdly so - py tam!
Sons of France, awake to glory,
Let your anciend valor shine!
Und shweep dis Prussian vermin
Het und dails indo de Rhine!'
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
351:Breitmann And The Turners
HANS BREITMANN shoined de Turners,
Novemper in de fall,
Und dey gifed a boostin' bender
All in de Turner Hall.
Dere coomed de whole Gesangverein
Mit der Liederlich Aepfel Chor,
Und dey blowed on de drooms and stroomed on de fifes
Till dey couldn't refife no more.
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
Dey all set oop some shouts,
Dey took'd him into deir Turner Hall,
Und poots him a course of shprouts.
Dey poots him on de barell-hell pars
Und shtands him oop on his head,
Und dey poomps de beer mit an enchine hose
In his mout' dill he's 'pout half tead!
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners;
Dey make shimnastig dricks;
He stoot on de middle of de floor,
Und put oop a fifdy-six.
Und den he drows it to de roof,
Und schwig off a treadful trink:
De veight coom toomple back on his headt,
Und py shinks! he didn't vink!
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:-Mein Gott! how dey drinked und shwore;
Dere vas Schwabians und Tyrolers,
Und Bavarians by de score.
Some vellers coomed from de Rheinland,
Und Frankfort-on-de-Main,
Boot dere vas only von Sharman dere,
Und he vas a Holstein Dane.
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
Mit a Limpurg' cheese he coom;
Vhen he open de box it schmell so loudt
21
It knock de musik doomb.
Vhen de Deutschers kit de flavour,
It coorl de haar on deir head;
Boot dere vas dwo Amerigans dere;
Und, py tam! it kilt dem dead!
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners;
De ladies coomed in to see;
Dey poot dem in de blace for de gals,
All in der gal-lerie.
Dey ashk: 'Vhere ish der Breitmann?'
Und dey dremple mit awe and fear
Vhen dey see him schwingen' py de toes,
A trinken' lager beer.
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:
I dells you vot py tam!
Dey sings de great Urbummellied:
De holy Sharman psalm.
Und vhen de kits to de gorus
You ought to hear dem dramp!
It scared der Teufel down below
To hear de Dootchmen stamp.
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:-By Donner! it vas grand,
Vhen de whole of dem goes valkin
Und dancin' on deir hand,
Mit deir veet all vavin' in de air,
Gottstausend! vot a dricks!
Dill der Breitmann fall und dey all go down
Shoost like a row of bricks.
Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
Dey lay dere in a heap,
And slept dill de early sonnen shine
Come in at de vindow creep;
And de preeze it vake dem from deir dream,
And dey go to kit deir feed:
Here hat dis song an ende -Das ist DES BREITMANNSLEID.
22
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
352:Cobus Hagelstein
ICH bin ein Deutscher, und mein name is Cobus Hagelstein,
I coom from Cincinnati, and I life peyond der Rhein;
Und I dells you all a shdory dot makes me mad ash blitz,
Pout how a Yankee gompany vas shvindle me to fits.
I heardt apout dis gompany, und vished to see dot same,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft vos ids name;
Dot is de name in Sherman - in English it will say
Dot it insures your life mit fire, ven you de money pay.
Now, I hod a liddle house-line vhere I life so shtill ash mice,
Und yoost drei tausand dollar vos dot little pilding's brice;
I vos always yoost so happy ash ein Kaisar in de land
Dill at last I kit in drople, for mein haus vas abgebrannt.
Den I goes undo dot gompany und dells em right afay
(Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft), und I say,
'At last de youngest day ist coom for you to plank de cash,
And you moost bay me monies, for mine haus is purned to ash.'
Den de segredary answered, 'All dis is fery drue,
Boot you know ve have de option to pild your house anew;
Dere ist a lot of beoples vot burns deir hauser doun,
Den coom to kit de money pack all over in de toun.'
I look indo de bapers und I find it ash he say,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft need not bay;
So I dells em all to go ahet und pild anoder shdore,
Und dey make me von in Yankee shdyle more petter ash pefore.
Den I met der segredary dereafter on a day,
Of Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, und he say,
'You've found oos vellers honoraple und honest in our line,
Vy tont you go insure de life of Madame Hagelstein?'
I poots mine dum oopon mine nose, and vinks him mit mine eye,
Und says I cooms to do it ven de ocean runs dry,
Ven gooses turn to ganders, und de bigs kits shanged to shvine;
Oh, den I makes insure de life of Madame Hagelstein.
106
'I haf dried you on insurance, ash you know, yust vonce pefore,
Und ven mein haus vas abgebrannt you pild anoder shdore;
Id's drue you pild it goot enough, boot I dell you allaweil,
I vas liket id moosh petter if it vas in Sharman shdyle.
'Now, if I goes insure my wife anoder dime mit you
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, I knows vot it would do,If from dis vorldt Frau Hagelstein should rise to Himmel life,
Inshtead of paying gelt you'd kit for me a Yankee vife!'
I poots mine dum pelow mine eye, und vinks him merrily,
Und say, 'Go find soom Deutscherman dot is more creen ash me.
Dere's blendy of dem creen enough, I know, peyond der Rhein,
But none among dem wears de name of Cobus Hagelstein.'
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
353:To the extent that you actually realize that you are not, for example, your anxieties, then your anxieties no longer threaten you. Even if anxiety is present, it no longer overwhelms you because you are no longer exclusively tied to it. You are no longer courting it, fighting it, resisting it, or running from it. In the most radical fashion, anxiety is thoroughly accepted as it is and allowed to move as it will. You have nothing to lose, nothing to gain, by its presence or absence, for you are simply watching it pass by.
Thus, any emotion, sensation, thought, memory, or experience that disturbs you is simply one with which you have exclusively identified yourself, and the ultimate resolution of the disturbance is simply to dis-identify with it. You cleanly let all of them drop away by realizing that they are not you--since you can see them, they cannot be the true Seer and Subject. Since they are not your real self, there is no reason whatsoever for you to identify with them, hold on to them, or allow your self to be bound by them.
Slowly, gently, as you pursue this dis-identification "therapy," you may find that your entire individual self (persona, ego, centaur), which heretofore you have fought to defend and protect, begins to go transparent and drop away. Not that it literally falls off and you find yourself floating, disembodied, through space. Rather, you begin to feel that what happens to your personal self—your wishes, hopes, desires, hurts—is not a matter of life-or-death seriousness, because there is within you a deeper and more basic self which is not touched by these peripheral fluctuations, these surface waves of grand commotion but feeble substance.
Thus, your personal mind-and-body may be in pain, or humiliation, or fear, but as long as you abide as the witness of these affairs, as if from on high, they no longer threaten you, and thus you are no longer moved to manipulate them, wrestle with them, or subdue them. Because you are willing to witness them, to look at them impartially, you are able to transcend them. As St. Thomas put it, "Whatever knows certain things cannot have any of them in its own nature." Thus, if the eye were colored red, it wouldn't be able to perceive red objects. It can see red because it is clear, or "redless." Likewise, if we can but watch or witness our distresses, we prove ourselves thereby to be "distress-less," free of the witnessed turmoil. That within which feels pain is itself pain-less; that which feels fear is fear-less; that which perceives tension is tensionless. To witness these states is to transcend them. They no longer seize you from behind because you look at them up front. ~ Ken Wilber,#NFDB
354:Frankfort-On-The-Main
VONCE oopon a dimes in Frankfort der Herr Breitemann exsberiencet
an interfal pedween de periot ven he hat gespent de last remiddance
he hat become from home, und de arrifal of de succedin wechsel, or
bill of exghange - und, in blain derms, was hard up. Derefore he
vent to dat goot relation who may pe foundt at den or fifdeen per
cent all de worlt ofer, - 'mine Onkel,' - und poot his tress-goat
oop de shpout for den florins. No sooner vas dis done, dan dere
coomed an infitation from de English laity in whom he vas so moosh
mit lofe in betaken, to geh mit her to a ball-barty. Awful bad vas
he veel, und sot apout tree hours mitout sayin nodings, und denn
wafin his hand, boorst out mit de vollowin version of dat peaudiful
lied by Wilhelm Caspary:'Mein Frack ist im Pfand-haus.'
Mine tress-goat is shpouted, mine tress-goat aint hier,
Vhile you in your ball-ropes go splurgin, mein tear!
To barties mit you I'm infitet you know,
Boot my pest coat ish shpouted - mine poots are no go.
To hell mit mine Onkel - dat rasgally knafe!
Dis pledgin und pawnin has mate me his slafe!
Ven I dink of his sign-bost, den dree dimes I bawl,
Vhile mine plack pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.
Goot night to dee fine lofe - so lofely und rich,
Mein tress-goat ish shpouted - gon-fount efery stitch!
I dinks dat olt Satan troo all mine affairs,
Lofe, business, und fun, has peen sewin his tares.
My tress-goat ish shpouted - mine tress-goat aint here,
While you in your glorie go shinin, mein tear,
Und de luck of der teufel ish loose ofer all,
Vhile my black pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.
Dis four-goin song vas over-set by der Hans Breitmann from de
German of Wilhelm Caspary, whose lyric vas a barody on a
dranslation made indo Deutsch by Freiligrath from anoder boem py
Sir Waldherr Scott, vitch Sir Waldherr vas kit de idee of from an
oldt Scottish ballad vitch pegin mit de vorts-
118
'My hearts in de Hielands, mein hearts ish nae hier,
Mein hearts in de Hielands, in wilden revier;
It hoonts for de shtag, und id hunts for de reh,
Mein hearts ist im Hochland wo immer ich geh.'
Dis is de original Scotch, as goot as I can mineself rememper it.
Ven I vas dell der Herr Karl Blind pout dis intercommixture of
perplexified dransitions from Scotch to English, and dence into
German, and dereafter into a barody, vitch vas be done ofer again indo
Herr Breitmann's own slanguage, he sait it vas a Rattenkonig - a
phrase too familiar to mine readers to require any wider
complication.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
355:Bloed op ’n blom. Goed. Om ’n lang storie kort te maak. Ek staan hier met my hakke teen die voetenent van haar graf en die kort loop teen my voorkop. My duim is op die sneller. My wysvinger op die hamer. My hand ruk onder die gewig. Maar ek hou hom lynreg gerig. Solank Moses sy hand opgehou het, was Israel die sterkste en wanneer hy sy hand laat sak het, die Amalekiete. Is dit U sagte hand hier onder my elmboog vandag? Want dit help net mooi niks. Die dêm ding raak swaar. Hoe lank staan ek al hier? Hoeveel vrae gevra? Hoeveel antwoorde gekry? Niks. Time-fokken-out. Tyd het nog nooit so min beteken, na so min geruik of so sag geklink nie. Tyd was nog nooit so ontydig nie. Dalk proe tyd na die binnekant van jou mond, na die laaste ding wat daar deur is. Soos ’n vloekwoord. ’n Sug. Of ’n naam. Ek rol my tong een keer deur. Nog ’n sintuig klok uit. As ek haar naam net mag proe. Maar dis nie meer daar nie. Daar is niemand wat sal kom as ek haar naam roep nie. En dis my skuld. En ek kan net nie daardie kruis alleen dra nie. Ek is nie Job nie, Ma. Ek kan nie toekyk terwyl die gode deals maak onder my neus nie. Die lyn wat Goed en Kwaad skei loop eintlik dwarsdeur elke mens. Deur my ook, sê jy. Maar links hou op ’n tiekie is sommer baie inspanning vir ’n ou sonder ’n plan B. Ek wil nie meer nie. Beproewinge bevry my nie soos vir Job nie. Dit beleër my. Rampe maak my nie sterker nie. Dit troef my. Ondervinding bevry ander, maar maak my swaarder. En ek voel my omsingel vandag. Fyngedruk soos ’n mot. Die gode het gewen. Ek glo nie meer in dinge-sal-regkom nie. Ek het my geloof in God en goeie vooruitsigte so saam-saam verloor. My verhemelte wil die heil en onheil nie meer onderskei nie. My hemele stuur die Eliaswolke en reënnewels tegelyk. Ek kyk nie eers meer op nie. Dis nie dat ek nie weet nie. Dis dat ek te veel weet maar die deugde nie uitmekaar kan ken nie. Om jouself om die lewe te bring is soveel anders as om iemand anders dood te maak. Soveel moeiliker. Jy weet, selfmoord is sneaky. Die een helfte van jou brein probeer jou oorreed dat die ander helfte lieg. Links priem jou met redes om te gaan en regs por jou om te vertoef, soos vir ’n loopdop. Maar dié koeël sal my kwytskeld. As jy in die kort loop van ’n .38 Special staar, kan jy die merkies op die stomp loodpunte van die ander vier patrone sien. Nie dat ek hulle ooit nodig sal kry nie. Op hierdie afstand sal een koeël meer as genoeg wees. Ek kyk vir oulaas om. Ag. Die blomme. Ek laat sak die rewolwer, draai om en haal die mooi ruikers van die groot grafsteen af. Ek kyk rond. Daar is niemand nie. Net die denne. En ’n duif wat roekoek. Dis jammer. Ek wil vir iemand sê mens bloei nie op blomme nie. Wat ’n gedagte moes bly, glip toe uit. Die duif vlieg met trae vlerkslae weg. Mens bloei nie op blomme nie. ~ Steve Hofmeyr, #NFDB
356:The Picnic
DE picknock oud at Spraker's Wood:It melt de soul und fire de plood.
Id sofly slid from cakes und cream;
Boot busted oop on brandy shdeam.
Mit stims of tender graceful ring,
De gals begoon a song to sing;
A bland mildt lied of olden dimeDeutsch vas die doon, und Deutsch de rhyme.
Wi's uff der Stross' wenn's finschter ischt,
Und niemond in der Goss' mehr ischt,
Nur Schone Madel wolle mer fonga,
Wie es gebil'te Leut' verlonga.
At de picknock oud in Spraker's Wood,
De Bier was soft-de gals were good:
Oondil von feller, vild and rasch,
Called out for a Yankee brandy-smash!
A crow vot vas valkin on de vall,
Fell dead ven he hear dis Dootchmann call;
For he knew dat droples coom, py shinks!
Ven de Dootch go in for Yankee drinks.
De Dootch got ravin droonk ash sin,
Dey smash de windows out und in;
Dey bust und bang de bar-room ein,
Und call for a bucket of branntewein.
Avay, avay, demselfs dey floong,
Und a wild infernal lied dey sung:
'Tvas, 'Tam de wein, and cuss de bier!
Ve tont care nix for de demprance here!
'O keep a pringin juleps in,
Und baldface corn dat burn like sin;
Mit apple tods und oldt shtone fence,
Ve'll all get corned ere ve go hence!'
168
Dey dash deir glasses on de cround,
Und tanz dill'tvas all to brick-duss ground,
Ven dey hear von man had a ten-dollar note,
De crowd go dead for dat rich man's troat.
A demperance chap vot coomed dere in,
Vent squanderin out mit his shell burst in;
'It's walk your chalks, you loost your chance,
Dis vot de call der Dootchmans' dance.'
Boot ven de law, mit his myrmidon,
Vas hear of dese Dootchmen's carryins-on,
Dey sent bolicemen shtern und good,
To pull dose Dootch in Spraker's Wood.
De Dootch vas all gone roarin mad,
Und trinked mit Spraker all dey had;
Dey shpend 'nuf money to last deir life,
And each vas tantzin mit anoder man's wife.
Dey all cot poonish difers vays,
Some vent to jug for dirty tays;
Und de von dat kilt de demperance man
Vas kit from de Alderman repriman.
Und dus it ran:-'A warnin dake,
For you mighdt hafe mate soom pig mishdake;
Now how vouldt you hafe feeled, py shing!
If dat man hat peen in de whiskey ring?
'Since you votes mine dicket, of course you know,
I'm pound to led you shlide und go.
Boot nefer on whiskey trink your fill,
For you Dootchmen don't know who to kill.'
Now Deutschers all-on dis warning dink,
Und don't get troonk on Yankee trink,
For neider you, or anoder man,
Can pe hocks like de New York rowdies can.
So trink goot bier, mit musik plest,
169
For if you tried your level best,
You can't be plackguarts-taint in de plood:
Dus endet de shdory of Spraker's Wood.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
357:The Moralist
Three other soldier blokes 'n' me packed
'ome from foreign lands;
Bit into each the God of Battles' everlastin'
brands.
They limped in time, 'n' coughed in tune, 'n'
one was short an ear,
'N' one was short a tier of ribs 'n' all was
short of beer.
I speaks up like a temp'rance gent,
But ever since the sky was bent
The thirst of man 'as never yet bin squenched
with argument.
Bill's skull was welded all across, Jim 'ad an
eye in soak,
Sam 'obbled on a patent leg, 'n' every man
was broke;
They sang a song of “Mother” with their faces
titled up.
Says Bill-o: “'Ere's yer 'eroes, sling the
bloomin' votive cup!
We got no beer, the soup was badNow oo will stand the soldier lad
The swag of honest liquor that for years he
hasn't 'ad?”
Sez I: “Respeck yer uniform! Remember
oo you are!”
They'd pinched a wicker barrer, 'arf a pram
'n' 'arf a car.
In this ole Bill-o nestled 'neath a blanket, on
his face
A someone's darlin' sorter look, a touch iv
boy'ood's grace.
The gentle ladies stopped to 'ear,
'N' dropped a symperthetic tear,
A dollar or a deener for the pore haff1ict
dear.
139
The others trucked the wounded to a hentrance
up a lane.
I sez: “Sich conduck's shameful!” Bill-o
took to ease his pain
One long 'un and another. The conductor
picked his brand;
The gripman lent his countenance to wot he
'ad in 'and.
And when they moved their stand 'twas
Sam
Lay pale 'n' peaceful in the pram,
'N' twenty flappers stroked his paw, 'n' said
he was a lamb.
The gathered in the tokens and they blooed
'em as above,
While Jim-o done the hinvalid 'oom Sammy
had to shove.
Sez I: “No noble 'eroes what's bin fightin'
for their king
Should smirch theirselves by doin' this dis'onerable thing.”
But fine old gents 'n' donahs prim
They stopped 'n' slid the beans to Jim.
You betcher life I let 'im hear just what I
though of 'im.
Nine, g.m. at St. Kilder, saw the finish of the
prowl.
Each 'ad his full-'n'-plentv, and was blowin'
in the tow'l.
As neither bloke cud stand alone, they leaned
'n' argufied
Which was the patient sufferer oo's turn it was
to ride.
Each 'eld a san'wich and a can.
Sez I: “This shouldn't 'ave began'Tain't conduck wot it worthy of a soldier and
a man.”
I cud 'a' cried with injured pride. Afore a
push the three
140
Got scrappin', vague 'n' foolish, which the
cripple boy should be.
Sam slips his scientific leg, 'n' flings it in the
drain“I'll auto 'ome,” he sez, “or never see me
'ome again.”
But I am thinkin' 'ard oo he
Tucked 'elpiess in the pram might be.
Comes sudden reckerlection. Great Gohanners, it is me!
~ Edward George Dyson,#NFDB
358:Breitmann’s Sleigh-Ride
VEN de winter make oos shifer
Und de bonds is froze mit ice,
To shlide und shkate on de rifer,
Mit de poys und gals is nice.
Ven de horses hafe deir bits on,
Und de roats pe vite mit shnow,
To vly in a sleigh like blitzen
Is de yolliest dings I know.
'Und its high, hooray!' saidt Breitmann
'For de gals on de Dutchtown-side;
Und it's lebe hoch! for de yunglins,
Vot'll go mit de gals to ride;
Und it's hip, herje! for de drifers
Vot nefer dake no odds!
Und it's vivat! for de vellers,
Vot'll shtand de apple-tods!'
Der Breitmann pooled his mits on,
Der Breitmann crocked his vip,
'Now its fly like dunner blitzen,
Mein shildren, let 'er rip!
Like de eagles on de shtorm-cloudt
A-vlyin' to deir nest;
Dere is opple-yack a-vaitin
For de von dot times de rest.
'Oh mein Rapp, du bist de pestest
Of horses in de land!
Dou canst trafel on de grafel,
Und canst shell it on de sand!
Oh Rapp! - dere's money on id,
Ton't let de Gelt go blue!
I vants you show de beoples
Dis tay vot you can do!'
Der Breitman mit his madchen
Vas in a shblentit shleigh,
Fritz Laufer mit his Mina,
103
Vas yoosht agross de vay;
Mit pop-slets und mit yoompers,
Mit horses and mit mules,
Dere vas more ash vifty fellers
Come mit deir ve-hi-cules.
Id's 'Ein-Zwei-Drei!' togedder
Dey hollered klein und gross,
Like de wind in shtormy wetter,
Stracks vent de Deutschers los!
Dey crock de vips like mooskets,
Dey ring from berg to berg,
'Hooray!' exsglaim Hans Breitmann:
'Dot sounds like Gettysburg!'
Der Breitmann und der Laufer
Vere half a mile ahet,
For ven id coom to driven,
De oder Dootch vere deadt.
Dey vly like teufel's arrows,
Mit imps oopon em gay,
Dey killt five hoondred shbarrows
Vot kit indo de vay.
Dey vly like rats und blitzen,
De fery gals vos doomb,
Und Breitmann kept his wits on,
To see vot shanse vouldt coom;
He know'd de pace dey clipped it
Moost enden in a shquall
By de vay der Laufer ripped it,
Und de shteeds vere ganz egal.
Der Laufer he vos leadin'
Hans Breitmann ash he goed,
Boot he tidn't see a soplin'
Dot vos lyin' in de road.
Id yank dem out like marples,
Mitout a will or shall;
Hets downvarts in a shnow-pank,
Vent Laufer mit his gal.
104
Und ash Breitmann comed oonto it
Id kit indo his vay,
Und tossed him mit his madchen
Right indo Laufer's shleigh;
Hans crab de reins like blitze',
Und go ahet like sin:
'Adje, mein lieber Fritze!
Dis dimes I scoop you in!'
He vly avay like shvallows
To vhere a davern lay,
Vhere de opple-tod vos ploomin'
Among de Deutschers gay.
Der Breitmann as he vonisht
Yoost cast von look pehind,
At de lecks of Fritz - und MinaA-vafin in de wind.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
359:Fritzerl Schnall
ASH on de Alapama biz,
Deep sinnin long I sat,
I dinks von ding for dinkin
Py afery Diplomat;
Und dat ist: dat voll many a ding
Vot ist de facto done,
May pe de jure unbossible,
Und officiel unknown,
Von dimes in San Franciscus,
Im Californian land,
Among de Californaments
Dere woned a Deutscher band;
Und shief among dese heroes
Dere shone Herr Fritzerl Schnall,
Who nefer vouldt pelief in nichts
Dat vas not logical.
Vell den: von tay as Fritzerl
Vas valk Dolores Shtreet,
Mein Gott! how he vas over-rush
Ein gut oldt friendt to meet;
Hans Liederschnitz aus Augsburg,
Vot professed in Bayrisch bier'Gottskreuz! du alter Schlingel!'
Cried Fritz: 'Was mochst du hier?'
Now in des dimes I scribe of,
Dree ways der vere bakannt,
Und only dree, to get to
Das Californigen Landt.
De virst de Plains coom ofer;
De next, de Istmoos troo;
De dird aroundt Cape Horne,
All ofer de ocean plue.
But de first lot of surveyors
For de railroad overland,
Vas seek a new vay northwarts,
120
All for de Eisenbahn,
Und mit dem, der professor
Of Lager vent along;
So he kommed to San Franciscus,
Und den into dis song.
But ash unto Herr Fritzerl
Dis news vas unerheard,
He couldt not know de tidings
Wherevon he had no vord;
Und derefore dis here quesdion
He makes to Hans: 'Old hoss,
I kess de vay you kit hier,
You kommed de Blains agross?'
'Nein, nein,' sayt Liederschnitzerl;
'I komm not ash you say.'
'Vell, den,' antworded Fritzerl,
'It pe's anoder vay.
If you komm de Blains not uber,
I see vot you hafe do:
You make an longer um-way
Und gross de Istmoos troo.'
'Nein, nein,' acain saidt Schnitzerl,
'Dat road I nefer know,
Und vas not ride de Istmoose!'
Cried Fritz, erstaunisched, 'SO
You komm de Blains not uber,
Nor gross de Istmoose troo?
Vell, den - to make de Horn aroundt
Vas all dat you could do!'
'I shvears py Gott!' says Schnitzerl,
'So sure as you vas porn,
Exshept oopon some ochsen
I nefer saw a horn.
Dat ish - mitwiles, too - while-en-I hafe von in mine hand,
Und trink to dy Gesundheit,
Im lieben Vaterland.'
121
Erstaunished stoot der Fritzerl:
No wort herout brought he:
Und sinned, und sinned - den sighftserd.
'Potz blitz! how vash dis pe?'
Ontill a light from Himmel
Vlash down into him shtraight,
Ash Heafen in Yacob Bohme
Vlash from a bewter blate.
Den laut he cry, eye-shbarklin,
Ash droonk mit Truth tifine,
Like der Wahrheitseher Novalis:
'Herr Gott! es leuch't mir ein!
If you komm de Blains not over,
Nor py Horn, nor py canal,
Den I shwears you dis, Hans Schnitzerl,
Du bist not here at all!'
MORAL.
Go in for Wahrheit,
Und for Pure Reason seek;
If it land you in a pog-hole,
Den die dere - like a brick!
Gott brosber all logikers,
Und pless deir nople breed;
Und so ist komm zu ende
Dis Breitmanns letzte Lied.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
360:The panel delivery truck drew up before the front of the “Amsterdam Apartments” on 126th Street between Madison and Fifth Avenues. Words on its sides, barely discernible in the dim street light, read: LUNATIC LYNDON … I DELIVER AND INSTALL TELEVISION SETS ANY TIME OF DAY OR NIGHT ANY PLACE. Two uniformed delivery men alighted and stood on the sidewalk to examine an address book in the light of a torch. Dark faces were highlighted for a moment like masks on display and went out with the light. They looked up and down the street. No one was in sight. Houses were vague geometrical patterns of black against the lighter blackness of the sky. Crosstown streets were always dark. Above them, in the black squares of windows, crescent-shaped whites of eyes and quarter moons of yellow teeth bloomed like Halloween pumpkins. Suddenly voices bubbled in the night. “Lookin’ for somebody?” The driver looked up. “Amsterdam Apartments.” “These is they.” Without replying, the driver and his helper began unloading a wooden box. Stenciled on its side were the words: Acme Television “Satellite” A.406. “What that number?” someone asked. “Fo-o-six,” Sharp-eyes replied. “I’m gonna play it in the night house if I ain’t too late.” “What ya’ll got there, baby?” “Television set,” the driver replied shortly. “Who dat getting a television this time of night?” The delivery man didn’t reply. A man’s voice ventured, “Maybe it’s that bird liver on the third storey got all them mens.” A woman said scornfully, “Bird liver! If she bird liver I’se fish and eggs and I got a daughter old enough to has mens.” “… or not!” a male voice boomed. “What she got ’ill get television sets when you jealous old hags is fighting over mops and pails.” “Listen to the loverboy! When yo’ love come down last?” “Bet loverboy ain’t got none, bird liver or what.” “Ain’t gonna get none either. She don’t burn no coal.” “Not in dis life, next life maybe.” “You people make me sick,” a woman said from a group on the sidewalk that had just arrived. “We looking for the dead man and you talking ’bout tricks.” The two delivery men were silently struggling with the big television box but the new arrivals got in their way. “Will you ladies kindly move your asses and look for dead men sommers else,” the driver said. His voice sounded mean. “ ’Scuse me,” the lady said. “You ain’t got him, is you?” “Does I look like I’m carrying a dead man ’round in my pocket?” “Dead man! What dead man? What you folks playing?” a man called down interestedly. “Skin?” “Georgia skin? Where?” “Ain’t nobody playing no skin,” the lady said with disgust. “He’s one of us.” “Who?” “The dead man, that’s who.” “One of usses? Where he at?” “Where he at? He dead, that’s where he at.” “Let me get some green down on dead man’s row.” “Ain’t you the mother’s gonna play fo-o-six?” “Thass all you niggers thinks about,” the disgusted lady said. “Womens and hits!” “What else is they?” “Where yo’ pride? The white cops done killed one of usses and thass all you can think about.” “Killed ’im where?” “We don’t know where. Why you think we’s looking?” “You sho’ is a one-tracked woman. I help you look, just don’t call me nigger is all. ~ Chester Himes, #NFDB
361:How do people get to this clandestine Archipelago? Hour by hour planes fly there, ships steer their course there, and trains thunder off to it--but all with nary a mark on them to tell of their destination. And at ticket windows or at travel bureaus for Soviet or foreign tourists the employees would be astounded if you were to ask for a ticket to go there. They know nothing and they've never heard of the Archipelago as a whole or any one of its innumerable islands.
Those who go to the Archipelago to administer it get there via the training schools of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
Those who go there to be guards are conscripted via the military conscription centers.
And those who, like you and me, dear reader, go there to die, must get there solely and compulsorily via arrest.
Arrest! Need it be said that it is a breaking point in your life, a bolt of lightning which has scored a direct hit on you? That it is an unassimilable spiritual earthquake not every person can cope with, as a result of which people often slip into insanity?
The Universe has as many different centers as there are living beings in it. Each of us is a center of the Universe, and that Universe is shattered when they hiss at you: "You are under arrest."
If you are arrested, can anything else remain unshattered by this cataclysm?
But the darkened mind is incapable of embracing these displacements in our universe, and both the most sophisticated and the veriest simpleton among us, drawing on all life's experience,
can gasp out only: "Me? What for?"
And this is a question which, though repeated millions and
millions of times before, has yet to receive an answer.
Arrest is an instantaneous, shattering thrust, expulsion, somersault from one state into another.
We have been happily borne—or perhaps have unhappily
dragged our weary way—down the long and crooked streets of
our lives, past all kinds of walls and fences made of rotting wood,
rammed earth, brick, concrete, iron railings. We have never given
a thought to what lies behind them. We have never tried to penetrate them with our vision or our understanding. But there is
where the Gulag country begins, right next to us, two yards away
from us. In addition, we have failed to notice an enormous number of closely fitted, well-disguised doors and gates in these
fences. All those gates were prepared for us, every last one! And
all of a sudden the fateful gate swings quickly open, and four
white male hands, unaccustomed to physical labor but nonetheless strong and tenacious, grab us by the leg, arm, collar, cap,
ear, and drag us in like a sack, and the gate behind us, the gate to
our past life, is slammed shut once and for all.
That's all there is to it! You are arrested!
And you'll find nothing better to respond with than a lamblike
bleat: "Me? What for?"
That's what arrest is: it's a blinding flash and a blow which
shifts the present instantly into the past and the impossible into
omnipotent actuality.
That's all. And neither for the first hour nor for the first day
will you be able to grasp anything else. ~ Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn,#NFDB
362:We have gone sick by following a path of untrammelled rationalism, male dominance, attention to the visible surface of things, practicality, bottom-line-ism. We have gone very, very sick. And the body politic, like any body, when it feels itself to be sick, it begins to produce antibodies, or strategies for overcoming the condition of dis-ease. And the 20th century is an enormous effort at self-healing. Phenomena as diverse as surrealism, body piercing, psychedelic drug use, sexual permissiveness, jazz, experimental dance, rave culture, tattooing, the list is endless. What do all these things have in common? They represent various styles of rejection of linear values. The society is trying to cure itself by an archaic revival, by a reversion to archaic values. So when I see people manifesting sexual ambiguity, or scarifying themselves, or showing a lot of flesh, or dancing to syncopated music, or getting loaded, or violating ordinary canons of sexual behaviour, I applaud all of this; because it's an impulse to return to what is felt by the body -- what is authentic, what is archaic -- and when you tease apart these archaic impulses, at the very centre of all these impulses is the desire to return to a world of magical empowerment of feeling.
And at the centre of that impulse is the shaman: stoned, intoxicated on plants, speaking with the spirit helpers, dancing in the moonlight, and vivifying and invoking a world of conscious, living mystery. That's what the world is. The world is not an unsolved problem for scientists or sociologists. The world is a living mystery: our birth, our death, our being in the moment -- these are mysteries. They are doorways opening on to unimaginable vistas of self-exploration, empowerment and hope for the human enterprise. And our culture has killed that, taken it away from us, made us consumers of shoddy products and shoddier ideals. We have to get away from that; and the way to get away from it is by a return to the authentic experience of the body -- and that means sexually empowering ourselves, and it means getting loaded, exploring the mind as a tool for personal and social transformation.
The hour is late; the clock is ticking; we will be judged very harshly if we fumble the ball. We are the inheritors of millions and millions of years of successfully lived lives and successful adaptations to changing conditions in the natural world. Now the challenge passes to us, the living, that the yet-to-be-born may have a place to put their feet and a sky to walk under; and that's what the psychedelic experience is about, is caring for, empowering, and building a future that honours the past, honours the planet and honours the power of the human imagination. There is nothing as powerful, as capable of transforming itself and the planet, as the human imagination. Let's not sell it straight. Let's not whore ourselves to nitwit ideologies. Let's not give our control over to the least among us. Rather, you know, claim your place in the sun and go forward into the light. The tools are there; the path is known; you simply have to turn your back on a culture that has gone sterile and dead, and get with the programme of a living world and a re-empowerment of the imagination. Thank you very, very much. ~ Terence McKenna,#NFDB
363:Munich
GAMBRINUS.
In a field of goldnen parley
Goot King Gambrinus shlept,
Und treamin' pout de dursty volk,
Dey say he gried und vept.
'In all mine land of Nederland,
Dere crows no mead or wein,
Und wasser I couldt nefer get
Indo dis troat of mein.
'Now hear me on, ye headen gotts!
Und all de Christian too;
Der Bacchus und der Shoopider,
Und Marie tressed in plue!
Und mighdy Thor, der donner gott,
Und any else dat be!
Der von as helps me in dis Noth,
His serfant I will pe.'
Und ash dis sinfull headen
All in de parley lay,
Dere coom in tream an angel
Who soft dese worts tid say:
'Stay oop, dou boor Gambrinus!
For efen all aroundt
Im parley vhere dou shleepest,
Some dings goot to trink ish found.
'Im parley vhere dou shleepest
Dere hides a trink so clear,
Dat men will know zukunftigAsh porter- ale- or bier.'
Und denn in Nederlandisch
He put de konig troo,
Und gafe him - allwhile treamingDe recipe to prew.
Oop rose der goot Gambrinus,
136
Und shook him in de sun:
'Go vay, ye sinfool headen gotts!
Mit you its out und done!
Ye'fe left me mit mine beoples
In error und in durst,
Till in our treadful tryness,
Ve tont know vitch is wurst.'
Dat vas der goot Gambrinus
Oonto his palac't vent,
Und loafers troo de Nederland
To all his lordts he sent.
'Leave Odin - or you lose your hets!'
De order vas sefere,
Yet tinged mit mildness, for he sent
De recipe for bier.
O den a merry sound vas heardt
Of bildin troo de land,
Und de kirchen und de braweries
Vent oop on efery hand;
For de masons dey vere hart at vork,
Und trinkin hart at dat,
Und some hat bricks mitin de hods,
Und some mitin deir hat.
Dey prew it in de Nederland,
Dey prew it on de Rhine;
Boot in de oldt Bavarian land,
Dey make it shdrong und fein.
Und he dat trinks in Munich,
Ash all goot vellers know,
Has got somedings to dink apout,
Vherefer he may go.
II.
Hafe you heardt of Kong Gambrinus?
If you hafen't id vas gueer,
For he vas de first erfinder
Und de holy saint of bier.
Und his bortrait, mit a sceptre,
137
Fery peaudifool to see,
Hangs on afery lager-bier house,
In de land of Germanie.
Efery vhere de whole world ofer,
Deutschers paint him on de sign,
As a broof dat dey are dealin
In de Bok und Lager line.
Crown und bier-mug, robe und ermine;
German signs of empire, dese,
Mit a long white beard a fallin'
Fery nearly to his knees.
Vonce dis bier-saint, pright und early,
Rose from bett und vent his vay,
To a dark mysderious gastle,
Vhere his lager-donjon lay.
Vhile de lark's first song vas ringin',
Und die roses shone in dew,
Den his soul vas shoost in order
To enshoy de early brew.
Deeply, awfooly he schwilled it,
Till de vaults seem toornin round;
Und vhile tipsy - over tips heIn he falls - und dere is trowned.
Yet vhile goorglin in de bier-fass,
Biously he gafe his soul:
'Gott verdammich! Donnerwetter!
Himmels sacrament-a-mol!'
Dere dey found der kong 'departed,'
Not mitout his stir-up cup:
Moosh dey woonderd dat he berishet
Vhen he might hafe troonk it oop;
Or dat his long peard vitch floatet
Fool a yard on efery side,
Hadn't buoyed him from destrugdion:Dus der beer-dead monarch died.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
364:Breitmann In Holland. Amsterdam.
TO Amsterd-m came Breitmann
All in de Kermes tide;
Yonge Maegden allegader
Filled de straat on afery side.
De meisjes in de straaten
Vere tantzin alle nacht long;
Dere vas kissen, dere vas trinken,
Mit a roar of Holland song.
Who went into de straaten
Ven de sonn had gone his day,
De Dootch gals quickly grapped him
Und tantzed him wild avay.
Dere was der Prinz von Capua,
Who fell among dese wags;
Dey tantzed him off in a carmagnole,
Und sent him home in rags.
Und den at afery gorner,
So peaudifool to see,
De volk vas bilin dough-nuts,
Or else vas fryin tea.
Und Kermes cakes mit boetry,
Vitch land-volk dinks a dreat,
Mit all of Barnum's blayed out shows
In dents along de shdreet.
Id pring de tears to Breitmann's eyes,
To find in many a shtand
Vot oft he'd baid a quarder for
To see in a distand land.
De Aztec dwins und de Siamese
(Dough soom vere a wachsen sham);
Mit de Beardet Frau und de Bear WomanAll here in Amsterdam
De fashion here in Nederland
Ish not vot you'd soopose,
Mit oos, men bays de vomens,
64
Boot de Dootch gals hires deir beaux!
Dey hire dem for de season,
Und because moosh rain ish fell,
Dey alvays bays a higher brice,
For a man mit an umberell.
Und dere vas Nord Hollander maids,
So woonderfool to see,
Mit caps of gold und goldne pins,
Und quaint orfeverie.
Likewise de Zeeland Boersmen,
Mit silber bootons gay;
Und silber belts, und silber knives,
Mijn Gott! - how sdrange vere dey!
But dough de men wore silber gear,
Und de vrouws in gold were tall,
De gals vere gabblin all de dimes,
Und de men said noding at all.
'Dey say dat sbeech is silbern,
Boot silence golden pe,
Dat aint de vay dey vork id here,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Goot Gott! how Breitmann vent it,
In moonlighdt or in rain;
Den vakened to Schied-m it,
Ven de mornin peamed again.
For to solfe von awfool broplem,
He vas efer shdill incline;
If - den wijn is beter als de min,
Or - de min doet veel meer als de wijn.
Dwo weeks der Breitmann studiet,
Vile he vent it on de howl.
He shpree so moosh to find de troot,
Dat he lookt like a bi-led owl.
Den he say, 'Ik wil honor Bacchus,
So long as ik leven shall;
Boot not so moosh vercieren
As to blace him ofer all.
65
De rose of lofe is lofely
In zomer ven it plow;
De bush shdill gifes a bromise,
In winter mid de shnow;
Ja, als de bloeme is geplukt,
En van den steel genomen,
Ve know de peautiful vill life,
Till zomer is gekomen.
Boot oh dose vas arch-heafenly dimes,
Ven by mine lofe I sat;
Und see de maedchen pring de grapes,
Und crash dem in a vat.
Und ven her glances unto mine
In plessfool ropture toorn;
I dink dere ne'er vas no dwo crapes
Like dem plue eyes of hern.
Wat is soeter als de trinken,
Ja - niet kan beter zyn.
Niet is soeter as de minne,
It smackt nog beter als wijn.
Es giebt nichts wie die Madchen,
Es gibt nichts wie das Bier,
Wer liebt nicht alle beide,
Wird gar kein Cavalier.
O vot ve vant to quickest come
Ish dat vot's soonest gone.
Dis life ish boot a passin from
de efer-gomin-on.
De gloser dat ve looks ad id,
De shmaller it ish grow;
Who goats und spurs mit lofe und wein,
He makes it fastest go.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
365:Breitmann In Maryland
DER BREITMANN mit his gompany
Rode out in Marylandt.
'Dere's nix to trink in dis countrie;
ine droat's as dry as sand.
It's light canteen und haversack,
It's hoonger mixed mit doorst;
Und if ve had some lager beer
I'd trink oontil I boorst.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Ve'd trink oontil ve boorst.
Herr Leut'nant, take a dozen men,
Und ride dis land around!
Herr Feldwebel, go foragin'
Dill somedings goot is found.
Gotts-donder! men, go ploonder!
Ve hafn't trinked a bit
Dis fourdeen hours! If I had beer
I'd sauf oontil I shplit!
Gling, glang, gloria!
Ve'd sauf oontil ve shplit!'
At mitternacht a horse's hoofs
Coom rattlin' droo de camp;
'Rouse dere! - coom rouse der house dere!
Herr Copitain - ve moost tromp!
De scouds have found a repel town,
Mit repel davern near,
A repel keller in de cround,
Mit repel lager beer!!
Gling, glang, gloria!
All fool of lager beer!'
Gottsdonnerkreuzschockschwerenoth!
How Breitmann broked de bush!
'O let me see dat lager beer!
O let me at him rush!
Und is mein sabre sharp und true,
Und is mein var-horse goot?
76
To get one quart of lager beer
I'd shpill a sea of ploot.
Gling, glang, gloria!
I'd shpill a sea of ploot.
'Fuenf hoonderd repels hold de down,
One hoonderd strong are ve;
Who gares a tam for all de odds
Vhen men so dirsty pe.'
And in dey smashed and down dey crashed,
Like donder-polts dey fly,
Rash fort as der vild yaeger cooms
Mit blitzen droo de shky.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Like blitzen droo de shky.
How flewed to rite, how flewed to left
De moundains, drees, und hedge;
How left und rite de yaeger corps
Vent donderin' droo de pridge.
Und splash und splosh dey ford de shtream
Vhere not some pridges pe:
All dripplin' in de moondlight peam
Stracks vent de Cavallrie.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Der Breitmann's cavallrie.
Und hoory, hoory, on dey rote,
Oonheedin' vet or try;
Und horse und rider shnort and blowed
Und shparklin' bepples fly.
Ropp! Ropp! I shmell de parley-prew!
Dere's somedings goot ish near.
Ropp! Ropp! - I scent de kneiperei;
Ve've got to lager beer!
Gling, glang, gloria!
Ve've got to lager beer!
Hei! how de carpine pullets klinged
Oopon de helmets hart!
Oh, Breitmann - how dy sabre ringed;
Du alter Knasterbart!
77
De contrapands dey sing for shoy
To see de rebs go down,
Und hear der Breitmann grimly gry:
Hoorah! - ve've dook de down.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Victoria, victoria!
De Dootch have dook de down.
Mid shout and crash and sabre flash,
And vild husaren shout
De Dootchmen boorst de keller in,
Und rolled de lager out;
Und in de coorlin' powder shmoke,
Vhile shtill de pullets sung,
Dere shtood der Breitmann, axe in hand,
A knockin' out de boong.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Victoria! Encoria!
De shpicket beats de boong.
Gotts! vot a shpree der Breitmann had
Vhile yet his hand was red,
A trinkin' lager from his poots
Among de repel tead.
'Tvas dus dey vent at mitternight
Along der moundain side;
'Tvas dus dey help make history!
Dis vas der Breitmann's ride.
Gling, glang, gloria!
Victoria! Victoria!
Cer'visia, encoria!
De treadful mitnight ride
Of Breitmann's vild Freischarlinger,
All famous, broad, und vide.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
366:Sir Wilfrid Laurier -- Diplomatist
I live on Canada en Bas -De fines' lan' you see -An' Oncle Sam, a fr'en of mine,
He live nex' door to me.
Now, long tam' Sam an' me mak' trade,
W'enever that we meet,
An' Sam, he drive de bargain hard,
Sometime bigarre! he sheat.
I not say mooch about it, me,
I never t'ink no harm
Before I fin' mon Oncle Sam
He wan' my little farm.
An' w'en I not to heem will give
De lan' my fader hown,
Den Sam get mad an' say to me,
"I'll play my hand alone.
You kip away; I not will trade,
Don' come my place about!"
Ah! den I see hees leetle game
Was w'at you call "freeze-hout."
Mais, I can stan' de fros', for hice
To me is not'ing new;
Sir John mak' freeze agains' de Yanks -See if dey lak' it, too.
But w'en Sir John t'row up his han'
An' die, 'twas change indeed;
No par'ner lef' could follow up
De fin' ole chieftain's lead.
An' de Canadian peup' was tire,
For dey was not mooch please
For pay big price for jus' to nurse
Les enfants industries.
10
Dey say, "We wan' to buy our t'ing
On some mooch sheaper shop,
Dose enfants industries are sure
Long tam' for growing hup."
For eighteen year dey pull l'argent
From bottom of de purse,
We t'ink it ees long tam' enough
For dem to be on nurse.
Den Tories try for bargain mak'
To trade wit' Sam again,
But was shok off as soon dey spik'
By Monsieur Jacques G. Blaine.
He say, "My fren's, before we will
Wit you reciprocate,
You mus' agains' ole England mak'
One sharp discriminate."
Dat took dem Tory breat' away,
Dey drop de bees'ness den,
No more dey go on Washington
Nor write dere wit' de pen.
By'mbye last year, our Canada
T'en she know w'at she wants,
An' wit' her toe, de mont' of June,
She kick de Tory pants.
She sen' for Laurier, an' at once
Immediatement he comes,
She say, "Instead of one boule-dogue
I'll have one gentilhomme."
Sir Wilfrid, soon he tak' de chair,
An' dis he plainly state:
"For Anglan' -- not agains' her -- I
Will mak' discriminate.
"If Oncle Sam, from out his lan'
11
Will keep Canadian men,
We'll do de sam' to Yankee, too -An' w'at will he do den?
"We'll play de game all sam' lak' heem,
An' mak' wan alien law,
An' more, bigarre! we'll hear him squeal
When he ees `hors de bois.'"
Den Oncle Sam, he scratch hees head
An' say, "Dat's quit' enuff,
I see Sir Wilfrid Laurier's vat
You might call `up on snuff!'"
So w'en Sir Wilfrid go to talk
'Bout dem Pacific seal,
Mon Oncle Sam tak' heem one side,
An' mak' some smoot' appeal.
"I lak' Canadian, yes, for sure,
I wan' for be your fren'."
"We lak' you, too," Sir Wilfrid say,
But only now an' den;
"For we'en you kick Canadian hout,
An' tink to mak' a fuss
Agains' de Mother Lan', we say -`You cannot bully us.'"
"Jes so," say Sam, "we mak hall right,
We tak' de whole dat pack,
Wit' me an' you an' Anglan' too,
It mus' be give an' tak'."
"Correc'," Sir Wilfrid rise an' say,
Den Sam an' he shak' hands,
To live no more lak' chat et chien,
But lak' les bons voisins.
Den Wilfrid, he come home again,
An' t'ings go well partout,
De markets rise, de trade increase --
12
Prosperitie renew.
L'ENVOY.
I t'ink for dis Canadian lan'
For mak' it t'rive an' grow,
De bes' ees Wilfrid Laurier's smile,
De wors' de Tupper blow.
~ Alexander MacGregor Rose,#NFDB
367:« Si pour un instant Dieu oubliait que je suis une marionnette de chiffon et m'offrait un morceau de vie, je profiterais de ce temps du mieux que je pourrais.
Sans doute je ne dirais pas tout ce que je pense, mais je penserais tout ce que je dirais.
Je donnerais du prix aux choses, non pour ce qu'elles valent, mais pour ce qu'elles représentent.
Je dormirais peu, je rêverais plus, sachant qu'en fermant les yeux, à chaque minute nous perdons 60 secondes de lumière.
Je marcherais quand les autres s'arrêteraient, je me réveillerais quand les autres dormiraient.
Si Dieu me faisait cadeau d'un morceau de vie, je m'habillerai simplement, je me coucherais à plat ventre au soleil, laissant à découvert pas seulement mon corps, mais aussi mon âme.
Aux hommes, je montrerais comment ils se trompent, quand ils pensent qu'ils cessent d'être amoureux parce qu'ils vieillissent, sans savoir qu'ils vieillissent quand ils cessent d'être amoureux ! A l'enfant je donnerais des ailes mais je le laisserais apprendre à voler tout seul.
Au vieillard je dirais que la mort ne vient pas avec la vieillesse mais seulement avec l'oubli.
J'ai appris tant de choses de vous les hommes… J'ai appris que tout le monde veut vivre en haut de la montagne, sans savoir que le vrai bonheur se trouve dans la manière d'y arriver.
J'ai appris que lorsqu'un nouveau-né serre pour la première fois, le doigt de son père, avec son petit poing, il le tient pour toujours.
J'ai appris qu'un homme doit uniquement baisser le regard pour aider un de ses semblables à se relever.
J'ai appris tant de choses de vous, mais à la vérité cela ne me servira pas à grand chose, si cela devait rester en moi, c'est que malheureusement je serais en train de mourir.
Dis toujours ce que tu ressens et fais toujours ce que tu penses.
Si je savais que c'est peut être aujourd'hui la dernière fois que je te vois dormir, je t'embrasserais très fort et je prierais pour pouvoir être le gardien de ton âme.
Si je savais que ce sont les derniers moments où je te vois, je te dirais 'je t'aime' sans stupidement penser que tu le sais déjà.
Il y a toujours un lendemain et la vie nous donne souvent une autre possibilité pour faire les choses bien, mais au cas où elle se tromperait et c'est, si c'est tout ce qui nous reste, je voudrais te dire combien je t'aime, que jamais je ne t'oublierais.
Le lendemain n'est sûr pour personne, ni pour les jeunes ni pour les vieux.
C'est peut être aujourd'hui que tu vois pour la dernière fois ceux que tu aimes. Pour cela, n'attends pas, ne perds pas de temps, fais-le aujourd'hui, car peut être demain ne viendra jamais, tu regretteras toujours de n'avoir pas pris le temps pour un sourire, une embrassade, un baiser parce que tu étais trop occupé pour accéder à un de leur dernier désir.
Garde ceux que tu aimes près de toi, dis-leur à l'oreille combien tu as besoin d'eux, aime les et traite les bien, prends le temps pour leur dire 'je regrette' 'pardonne-moi' 's'il te plait' 'merci' et tous les mots d'amour que tu connais.
Personne ne se souviendra de toi pour tes pensées secrètes. Demande la force et la sagesse pour les exprimer.
Dis à tes amis et à ceux que tu aimes combien ils sont importants pour toi.
Monsieur Márquez a terminé, disant : Envoie cette lettre à tous ceux que tu aimes, si tu ne le fais pas, demain sera comme aujourd'hui. Et si tu ne le fais pas cela n'a pas d'importance. Le moment sera passé.
Je vous dis au revoir avec beaucoup de tendresse » ~ Gabriel Garc a M rquez,#NFDB
368:« Écoute, Egor Pétrovitch, lui dit-il. Qu’est ce que tu fais de toi ? Tu te perds seulement avec ton désespoir. Tu n’as ni patience ni courage. Maintenant, dans un accès de tristesse, tu dis que
tu n’as pas de talent. Ce n’est pas vrai. Tu as du talent ; je t’assure que tu en as. Je le vois rien qu’à la façon dont tu sens et comprends l’art. Je te le prouverai par toute ta vie. Tu m’as raconté ta vie d’autrefois. À cette époque aussi le désespoirte visitait sans que tu t’en rendisses compte. À cette époque aussi, ton premier maître, cet homme étrange, dont tu m’as tant parlé, a éveillé en toi, pour la première fois, l’amour de l’art et a deviné ton talent. Tu l’as senti alors aussi fortement que maintenant. Mais tu ne savais pas ce qui se passait en toi. Tu ne pouvais pas vivre dans la maison du propriétaire, et tu ne savais toi-même ce que tu désirais. Ton maître est mort trop tôt. Il t’a laissé seulement avec des aspirations vagues et, surtout, il ne t’a pas expliqué toimême. Tu sentais le besoin d’une autre route plus large, tu pressentais que d’autres buts t’étaient destinés, mais tu ne comprenais pas comment tout cela se ferait et, dans ton angoisse, tu as haï tout ce qui t’entourait alors. Tes six années de misère ne sont pas perdues. Tu as travaillé, pensé, tu as reconnu et toi-même et tes forces ; tu comprends maintenant l’art et ta destination. Mon ami, il faut avoir de la patience et du courage. Un sort plus envié que le mien t’est réservé. Tu es cent fois plus artiste que moi, mais que Dieu te donne même la dixième partie de ma patience. Travaille, ne bois pas, comme te le disait ton bonpropriétaire, et, principalement, commence par l’a, b, c.
« Qu’est-ce qui te tourmente ? La pauvreté, la misère ? Mais la pauvreté et la misère forment l’artiste. Elles sont inséparables des débuts. Maintenant personne n’a encore besoin de toi ; personne ne veut te connaître. Ainsi va le monde. Attends, ce sera autre chose quand on saura que tu as du talent. L’envie, la malignité, et surtout la bêtise t’opprimeront plus fortement que la misère. Le talent a besoin de sympathie ; il faut qu’on le comprenne. Et toi, tu verras quelles gens t’entoureront quand tu approcheras du but. Ils tâcheront de regarder avec mépris ce qui s’est élaboré en toi au prix d’un pénible travail, des privations, des nuits sans sommeil. Tes futurs camarades ne t’encourageront pas, ne te consoleront pas. Ils ne t’indiqueront pas ce qui en toi est bon et vrai. Avec une joie maligne ils relèveront chacune de tes fautes. Ils te montreront précisément ce qu’il y a de mauvais en toi, ce en quoi tu te trompes, et d’un air calme et méprisant ils fêteront joyeusement chacune de tes erreurs. Toi, tu esorgueilleux et souvent à tort. Il t’arrivera d’offenser une nullité qui a de l’amour-propre, et alors malheur à toi : tu seras seul et ils seront plusieurs. Ils te tueront à coups d’épingles. Moi même, je commence à éprouver tout cela. Prends donc des forces dès maintenant. Tu n’es pas encore si pauvre. Tu peux encore vivre ; ne néglige pas les besognes grossières, fends du bois, comme je l’ai fait un soir chez de pauvres gens. Mais tu es impatient ; l’impatience est ta maladie. Tu n’as pas assez de simplicité ; tu ruses trop, tu réfléchis trop, tu fais trop travailler ta tête. Tu es audacieux en paroles et lâche quand il faut prendra l’archet en main. Tu as beaucoup d’amour-propre et peu de hardiesse. Sois plus hardi, attends, apprends, et si tu ne comptes pas sur tes forces, alors va au hasard ; tu as de la chaleur, du sentiment, peut-être arriveras-tu au but. Sinon, va quand même au hasard. En tout cas tu ne perdras rien, si le gain est trop grand. Vois-tu, aussi, le hasard pour nous est une grande chose. » ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky,#NFDB
369:Tour Abroad Of Wilfrid The Great
By Jean Baptiste Trudeau.
W'en Queen Victoria calls her peup's
For mak' some Jubilee,
She sen' for men from all de worl' -And from her colonie.
But mos' of all, she sen' dis word
To dis Canadian shore,
"If Wilfrid Laurier do not come,
I will be glad no more."
Den Wilfrid not hard-hearted, he
Lif' w'at you call de hat,
An' say, "Ma reine, you mus' not fret,
For little t'ing lak' dat.
"To Londres, on de day in June
You mention, I will come,
And show you w'at is lak' de FrenchCanadian gentilhomme."
So Wildred sailed across de sea,
An' Queen Victoria met,
An' w'en she's see him, ah! she is
Jus' tickle half to deat'!
An' w'en he's kneel, as etiquette
Demand, for be correc',
She tak' a sword into her han'
An' hit him on de neck.
An' w'en she do, she smile on him,
An' dese de words she say:
"Rise up, my true Canadian Knight -Sir Wilfrid Laurier!
"An' on dose grand Imperial plans
14
Which I have now in view,
For guidance, counsel, an' advice
I'll always look to you."
Den Wilfrid kiss de Royal han',
An' back off on de door,
An' bow as only Frenchman can,
An' smile an' bow some more.
Nex' day, it was a glorious sight,
At half-pas' twelve o'clock,
To see Sir Wilfrid ride in state,
An' in chapeau de coque.
Lords Solsby, Roberts, and Cecil Rhodes,
An' Chamberlain an' dose
Were w'at you call "not in it," for
Sir Wilfrid was de boss.
Oui, certainement, excep' de Queen
Herself dat glorious day,
De greates' man on Angleterre
Was Wilfrid Laurier.
VISITS PARIS.
Sir Wilfrid cross de Channel den,
Mak' visit La Patrie,
An' mak' fine speeches two or three
In de city of Paree.
An' shak' de han', an' drink de vin
Mit Faure de Presiden',
An' show him what de kin' of man
Dis contrie represen'.
An' w'en Dir Wilfrid's voice dey hear,
An' his fine shape dey see,
De men of France was hall surprise,
De ladies hall epris.
15
Den Monsieur Faure he rise an say,
"Sir Wilfrid Laurier,
In de Legion d'Honneur you are
Un grand officier."
An' to Sir Wilfrid, front dem hall,
He mak' some fine address,
An' den ribbon wit' de star
He pin upon his breas'.
En bref, our Wilfrid capture France,
He's capture Anglan', too;
I t'ink he will annex dem both
To Canada -- don' you?
SIR WILFRID'S RETURN.
Sir Wilfrid, tired of Jubilee
An' glorie an' eclat,
He says, "Dese contrie dey ees not
Lak' my own Canada.
"I wan' my own dear lan' for see
An' de St. Laurent gran',
An' hear again de French he spik
Mon bonhomme habitan!"
Den to the Queen an' Monsieur Faure
Hees "au revoirs" he say,
"I mus' go back on ole Kebec,
An' Mo'real dis day.
"An' I mus go an help toujours,
Lor' Aberdeen mak' law,
An' keep dem Tory boodler from
De safe in Ottawa.
"An' help Sir Olivair, Sir Deek
An' Tarte mak' politique,
An' keep Sir Tuppair an' hees gang
From play some crooked trique."
16
So, on de "Labrador" he sail,
On Canada he come,
We hall be glad his face to see,
An' he ees glad be home.
An' hall de Angleesh, Ireesh, Franch
'Roun hees triomphan' car,
Say, "Bienvenu! Come, spok to us
Upon de Champ de Mars."
Sir Wilfrid tole us dat he drink
Dose vins mit' Monsieur Faure,
An' dine on Windsor -- so he tole
Us on de Champ de Mars.
Den hall de peup' dey mak' big cheer,
De cannon dey mak' shoot,
We hall be on one grand hoorau,
De steamboats on a toot.
So we hall sing, "God bless de Queen!
An' Monsieur Faure, alway!
Because dey treat all same lak' prince,
Our Wilfrid Laurier."
~ Alexander MacGregor Rose,#NFDB
370:Breitmann Interviews The Pope
VON efenin ash der Breitmann vent from his weinhaus vinkin,
So peepy mit Falernian vitch he vas starkly trinkin,
He found his hut and goat was gone, - dey'd dook em oud for dryin,Und in deir blace a priester hut und priester mantel lyin.
Der Breitmann poot de triangel oopon his het, and whistled,
Den rop de cloak around his form, and down de Corso mizzled.
De beoples gazed mit staunischment as bey dem he go vheelin,
He look ganz oltra tramontane, so twisty vas his reelin.
Next tay in Vaticano, while he shtared at frescoes o'er him,
Hans toorned und mit amazemend saw der Pabst vas shoost pefore him!
Down on his knees der Breitmann vent - for so de law it teaches;
He proke two holes in de bavement - und likevise shblit
his preeches.
'Ego video,' says de Bope - 'tu es antistes ex Almania,
Est una mala gente et corrupta con insania,
Un fons hereticorum et malorum tut terrible,
Perche non vultis che ego - il Papa - sei infallibile.'
'Sit verbo venia,' said Hans, 'permitte, Sancte Pater,
Num verum est ut noster rum gemixta est mit water?
In coelis wo die gotter live, non semper est sereno,
Nor de wein ash goot ash decet in each spaccio di vino.
'Sunt mihi multi fratres qui si denkunt ut dicisti,
Ego kickerem illos, valide, per sanguine de Christi!
In nostro monasterio si habemus nostrum rentum
Contra infallibilita non curamus rubrum centrum.
'Viginti nostrorum nuper convenere,
In quondam capitulo, simul et dixere;
Papa vult Concilium in Romam tenere,
Quid debemus super hoc ipsi respondere?'
Et dixit noster presul, 'Es ist mir omnis unus,
Si Papa est infallibilis, tanquam non sum jejunus,
Si nonus est Pius aut Pius est Nonus-
91
Diabolis curat. Non accipio dieser onus.
'Si possum me jacere circum vitrum Rhenovini
Es ist mir wurst si Papa est originis divini:
Deus se fecit olim homo, et nahm dis irds'che Leben,
Et nunc Papa noster will sich selbst zum Gott erheben.
'Ita dixit Breitmann et sanctus Pater respondit:
Me piace semper intendere tutto cio che l'on dit,
Sed tu dic mihi la sua ragione:
Tu non homo natus es, solus mangiar maccheroni.
'Tonitrus et cespes!' dixit Johanes Breitmann.
'Si veritatem cupies, tunc ego sum der right man;
Percute semper ferrum dum caldum est et malleable,
Nunc est tuum tempus te facere infallible.
'In nostra America quum Praeses decet abire,
Die ultimo fecit omne quod posset imaginire.
Appointet ambasciatores et post-magistros,
Consules et alios, per dextros et sinistros.
'Quum Rex Bomba ista Neapolit-anus,
Compulsus fuit to shin it - ut dixit AfricanusFecit ultimo die ducos et countos, vanus.
(Inter alios M'Closkey, tuus Hibernicus chanberlanus.)
'Et quia tu es; ut credo; ultimus Poporum,
Facis bene devenire, quod dicitur High CockalorumSei magnissimus toad in the puddle, ite caput, magnamente;
Et ERITIS SICUT DEUS, nemine contradicente!
'Unus error solus, Sancte Pater commisisti.
Quia primus infallible non te proclamavisti,
Nam nemo audet dicere: Papa fecit quod non est bonus.
Decet semper jactare super alios probandi onus.
'Conceptio Immaculata, hoc modo fixisti,
Et nemo audet dicere unum verbum, de isti:
Non vides si infallibilis es, et vultis es exdare,
Non alius sed tu solus hanc debet proclamare.'
92
'Figlio mio,' dixit Papa; 'Tu es homo mirabilis,
Tua verba sunt mi dulcior quam ostriche cum Chablis
In tutta Roma, de Alemania gente,
Non ho visto uno con si grande mente.
'Vero benedetto es - eris benedictus,
Tibi mitterem photographiam in quo sum depictus.
Tu comprendes situatio - il punto et gravamen.
Sunt pauci clerici ut te. Nunc dico tibi. - Amen!'
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
371:So far from a political ideology being the quasi-divine parent of political activity, it turns out to be its earthly stepchild. Instead of an independently premeditated scheme of ends to be pursued, it is a system of ideas abstracted from the manner in which people have been accustomed to go about the business of attending to the arrangements of their societies. The pedigree of every political ideology shows it to be the creature, not of premeditation in advance of political activity, but of meditation upon a manner of politics. In short, political activity comes first and a political ideology follows after; and the understanding of politics we are investigating has the disadvantage of being, in the strict sense, preposterous.
Let us consider the matter first in relation to scientific hypothesis, which I have taken to play a role in scientific activity in some respects similar to that of an ideology in politics. If a scientific hypothesis were a self-generated bright idea which owed nothing to scientific activity, then empiricism governed by hypothesis could be considered to compose a self-contained manner of activity; but this certainly is not its character. The truth is that only a man who is already a scientist can formulate a scientific hypothesis; that is, an hypothesis is not an independent invention capable of guiding scientific inquiry, but a dependent supposition which arises as an abstraction from within already existing scientific activity. Moreover, even when the specific hypothesis has in this manner been formulated, it is inoperative as a guide to research without constant reference to the traditions of scientific inquiry from which it was abstracted. The concrete situation does not appear until the specific hypothesis, which is the occasion of empiricism being set to work, is recognized as itself the creature of owing how to conduct a scientific inquiry.
Or consider the example of cookery. It might be supposed that an ignorant man, some edible materials, and a cookery book compose together the necessities of a self-moved (or concrete) activity called cooking. But nothing is further from the truth. The cookery book is not an independently generated beginning from which cooking can spring; it is nothing more than an abstract of somebody's knowledge of how to cook: it is the stepchild, not the parent of the activity. The book, in its tum, may help to set a man on to dressing a dinner, but if it were his sole guide he could never, in fact, begin: the book speaks only to those who know already the kind of thing to expect from it and consequently bow to interpret it.
Now, just as a cookery book presupposes somebody who knows how to cook, and its use presupposes somebody who already knows how to use it, and just as a scientific hypothesis springs from a knowledge of how to conduct a scientific investigation and separated from that knowledge is powerless to set empiricism profitably to work, so a political ideology must be understood, not as an independently premeditated beginning for political activity, but as knowledge (abstract and generalized) of a concrete manner of attending to the arrangements of a society. The catechism which sets out the purposes to be pursued merely abridges a concrete manner of behaviour in which those purposes are already hidden. It does not exist in advance of political activity, and by itself it is always an insufficient guide. Political enterprises, the ends to be pursued, the arrangements to be established (all the normal ingredients of a political ideology), cannot be premeditated in advance of a manner of attending to the arrangements of a society; what we do, and moreover what we want to do, is the creature of how we are accustomed to conduct our affairs. Indeed, it often reflects no more than a discovered ability to do something which is then translated into an authority to do it. ~ Michael Oakeshott,#NFDB
372:Breitmann Am Rhein - Cologne.
HOW wunderschon das Vaterland
In audumn-life abbears;
Vot rainpows gild ids vallies crand,
Ven seen troo vallin tears.
Und VON I'll creet mit sang und klang,
Und drown in goldnen wein;
Old Deutschland's cot her sohn again:
Hans Breitmann's on der Rhein.
Und doughts ish schwell dat mighdy heart,
Too awfool for make known;
Ven dey shunt him from de railroat car
Und tropped him in Cologne.
De holy towers of de dome
Cleam, twilicht-veiled, afar;
Und like some lonely bilgrim's pipe,
Dim shines de efenin star.
Hans look to find his baggage check,
Und see dat all ish shdraighdts,
Denn toorn him to de city toors,
'Mein nadife land - wie gehts?'
Boot dat's vot all who read may runFool blainly armies write;
Id's ofer all half Shermany,
Set down in Black and White.
Oh, Black and White! O Weiss and Schwarz!
Vot dings ish dis to see?
I vonder vot in future years
Your mission ish to pe?
Also in crate America
We had soosh colors too!
Die Farb' sind mir nicht unbekanntId's shoost tout comme chez nous.
Next tay to de Cathedral
He vent de dings to view,
Und found it shoost drei thaler cost
17
To see de sighds all troo.
'Id's tear,' said Hans; 'boot go ahet,
I'fe cot de cash all right;
Boot id's queer dat's only Protestands
Vot mosdly see de sighdt!
'Im Mittelalter I hafe read
De shoorsh vas alvays sureAn open bicdure gallerie,
Und book for all de poor.
Boot now de dings is so arrange
No poor volk can get in;
We Yankees und de Englisch are
Pout all ash shbends de tin.
'I shmiles like Mephistopheles
In shoorshes ven I see
Poor Catholics vollerin round apout
To shdeal a sighdt - troo ME!
Dey peep und creep roundt chapel gates,
Boot soon kits trofe afay,
Dey gross demselfs, und make a brayerBoot den dey cannot bay!
'Dese Deutsche sacrisdans might learn
More goot in Italy,
Where beoples bays shoost half de brice,
For ten dimes more to see,
De volk vot dink I shbeak sefere
Apout dese Kuster vays,
May read vot Mr. Badeker
In his Belgine Hand Buch says.'
Und valkin oop und town de down
Von ding vas shdill de same:
Shoost ash of oldt he saw de shpread
Of Jean Farina's name.
He find it nort', he find it sout',
He find it eferyvhere;
Dere vas no house in all Cologne
Boot J. M. F. vas dere.
18
De best Cologne in all Cologne
I'll shwear for cerdain sure,
Ish maket in de Julichsplatz
Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Julichsplatz
Let dis pe understood,
Dat some of id ish foorst-rate pad,
Vhile some is foorst-rate good.
Boot von ding drafellers moost opserve,
Dis treadful trut I dells,
Fast ash dis Farinaceous crowd
So vast hafe grown the schmellsDose awfool schmells in gass' und strass'
Vitch mofe crate Coleridge squalm:
If so he wrote, vot vouldt he write
Apout dem now, py tam?
Of all de schmells I efer schmelt,
Py gutter, sink, or well,
At efery gorner of Cologne
Dere's von can peat dat schmell.
Vhen dere you go you'll find it so,
Don't dake de ding on troost;
De meanest skunk in Yankee land
Vould die dere of disgoost.
Boot noding dinked der Breitmann
Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendammerung
Und looket owd on der Rhein
Im goldnen gleam - vhile pealin far
Rang shlow, shveet kloster bells,
Und in de dim, plue peaudiful,
Rose distant Drachenfels.
Dey trinket lieb Liebfrauenmilch
So pure ash voman's trut';
De singed de songs of Shermany,
De songs of Breitmann's yout'.
De songs mit tears of vanished years,
Made peaudiful in wein.
19
Dus endet out de firster tay
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
373:Breitmann In Holland. Scheveningen, Or De Maiden’s
Coorse
HET vas Mijn Heer van Torenborg,
Ride oud oopon de sand,
Und vait to hear a paardeken;
Coom tromplin from de land.
He vaited vhen de boeren volk
Vent oud oopon de plain,
He vaited dill de veary crows
Flew nestwarts home acain.
He vaited ash de wild fox vaits
In long-some hoonger noth,
He vaited dill de flitterin bats
Vere plack on Abendroth.
Id's woe to watch for taily bread
Or bide forgotten call,
Boot oh, to vait for heartsen lofe
Ish veariest of dem all.
'O dat ish not mine laity's prooch
Shoost now so star-like shined,
O dat ish not mine laity's haar
Soft floatin on de wind.
Her goot crayhound mit soosh a step
Vas nefer vont to go,
Und dat is niet her paardeken
Whose shtep so vell I know.
'Dat light ish speer light from a lanz
Vitch'll part mine pody und soul,
De floatin haar is a pennon gay
Or wafin banderol.
De crayhound ish a ploot-hound wild
Vitch long has dracked me here,
Und het paardeken ish a var-horse
Vot has hoonted me like deer.'
Well shpoke Mijn Heer van Torenborg
70
All drue vas afery wordt,
For dey bored him troo mit lanzen,
Und dey hewed him mit de swordt.
Dey killt him armloss, harmlos;
De plooty reiver band;
Und puried him so careloosly
Dat his vace shtick out de sand.
Boot e'er night's plack hat toorned to red
Or e'er de stars vere gone,
Dere came de shtep of a paardeken
Soft tromplin, tromplin on.
A laity fair climped off on him
Und trip mit dainty toes:Boot oh, mijn Gott! - how she vas shkreem
Ven she trot on her drue lofe's nose!
'Oh vot ish dis I trots opon?
Id's shape fool well I know,
Dere nefer yet vas flower like dis,
Dat in de garten crow.
Dere nefer yet vas fruit like dis
Ash ripen on a dree;
Het is Mijn Heer van Torenborg
Dat kan ik blainly see.
'Dat heerlijk nose, van Torenborg,
Ish known of anciend dime,
'Tis writ in olten chronikel
Und sung in minsdrel rhyme.
Und dis, de noblest of de race
Since hishdory pegans,
Ish shtickin here - shdraighdt out de dirt,
Shoost like some boer manns.
'Oh cuss de man dat mordered him!
Ach, cuss him oop and down,
Ja - cuss him troo de forest roads,
Und tamn him in de toun!
Und burn his vater und moder,
Vhere'er deir vootshteps vall,
Mit his schwesters und his broders,
71
De teufel rake dem all!
'May afery cuss dat e'er vas cusst,
Since cussin foorst pegan;
Pe hoorled in von drementous cuss,
Acainsdt dat nasdy man!
From de foorst crate cuss on Adam,
To de smalles' of de crop'Here de tead man gafe a shifer,
Und gry oud - 'For Gott's sake - shdop!
'Dere's a cerdain lot of shwearin,
Vitch anger alvays crafes;
Boot spite like dat's enof to pring
De tead men from deir craves.
I can't lie here no longer,
Und hear soosh pizen pain;
Und since you've shtirred me out, I kess
I'll coom to life acain.'
Mit von drementous shkreem of pliss,
His drue lofe shtood de shock,
Den catcht him wildly py de nose,
'Ach Torenborg - lev'st du nock!
Ach ja - du aint'st nod tead yet!
Dere's life shdill lef' pehind,
Gott pless de dat lef' dy nose,
Shdill wafin in de wind.'
Mit hands all ofer diamonds,
She loosed de sand apout,
Mit an oyster-shell so wildly
She digged her lofer out.
'Und now dou'rt in free air, lofe!
Who warst shoost now in sand!
Dere vasn't ish a nicer man,
In all de Nederland!
Vhere vas dit liedeken written,
Vhere vas dit liedeken sing,
Dat had gedone Hans Breitmann,
In de town of Schevening!
72
'Tvas written ober Rheinwein,
'Tvas written ober bierUnd wer das lied gesungen hat,
Gott geb ihm ein glucklich's jahr.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
374:Les deux femmes, vêtues de noir, remirent le corps dans le lit de ma sœur, elles jetèrent dessus des fleurs et de l’eau bénite, puis, lorsque le soleil eut fini de jeter dans l’appartement sa lueur rougeâtre et terne comme le regard d’un cadavre, quand le jour eut disparu de dessus les vitres, elles allumèrent deux petites bougies qui étaient sur la table de nuit, s’agenouillèrent et me dirent de prier comme elles.
Je priai, oh ! bien fort, le plus qu’il m’était possible ! mais rien… Lélia ne remuait pas !
Je fus longtemps ainsi agenouillé, la tête sur les draps du lit froids et humides, je pleurais, mais bas et sans angoisses ; il me semblait qu’en pensant, en pleurant, en me déchirant l’âme avec des prières et des vœux, j’obtiendrais un souffle, un regard, un geste de ce corps aux formes indécises et dont on ne distinguait rien si ce n’est, à une place, une forme ronde qui devait être La tête, et plus bas une autre qui semblait être les pieds. Je croyais, moi, pauvre naïf enfant, je croyais que la prière pouvait rendre la vie à un cadavre, tant j’avais de foi et de candeur !
Oh ! on ne sait ce qu’a d’amer et de sombre une nuit ainsi passée à prier sur un cadavre, à pleurer, à vouloir faire renaître le néant ! On ne sait tout ce qu’il y a de hideux et d’horrible dans une nuit de larmes et de sanglots, à la lueur de deux cierges mortuaires, entouré de deux femmes aux chants monotones, aux larmes vénales, aux grotesques psalmodies ! On ne sait enfin tout ce que cette scène de désespoir et de deuil vous remplit le cœur : enfant, de tristesse et d’amertume ; jeune homme, de scepticisme ; vieillard, de désespoir !
Le jour arriva.
Mais quand le jour commença à paraître, lorsque les deux cierges mortuaires commençaient à mourir aussi, alors ces deux femmes partirent et me laissèrent seul. Je courus après elles, et me traînant à leurs pieds, m’attachant à leurs vêtements :
— Ma sœur ! leur dis-je, eh bien, ma sœur ! oui, Lélia ! où est-elle ?
Elles me regardèrent étonnées.
— Ma sœur ! vous m’avez dit de prier, j’ai prié pour qu’elle revienne, vous m’avez trompé !
— Mais c’était pour son âme !
Son âme ? Qu’est-ce que cela signifiait ? On m’avait souvent parlé de Dieu, jamais de l’âme.
Dieu, je comprenais cela au moins, car si l’on m’eût demandé ce qu’il était, eh bien, j’aurais pris La linotte de Lélia, et, lui brisant la tête entre mes mains, j’aurais dit : « Et moi aussi, je suis Dieu ! » Mais l’âme ? l’âme ? qu’est-ce cela ?
J’eus la hardiesse de le leur demander, mais elles s’en allèrent sans me répondre.
Son âme ! eh bien, elles m’ont trompé, ces femmes. Pour moi, ce que je voulais, c’était Lélia, Lélia qui jouait avec moi sur le gazon, dans les bois, qui se couchait sur la mousse, qui cueillait des fleurs et puis qui les jetait au vent ; c’était Lelia, ma belle petite sœur aux grands yeux bleus, Lélia qui m’embrassait le soir après sa poupée, après son mouton chéri, après sa linotte. Pauvre sœur ! c’était toi que je demandais à grands cris, en pleurant, et ces gens barbares et inhumains me répondaient : « Non, tu ne la reverras pas, tu as prié non pour elle, mais tu as prié pour son âme ! quelque chose d’inconnu, de vague comme un mot d’une langue étrangère ; tu as prié pour un souffle, pour un mot, pour le néant, pour son âme enfin ! »
Son âme, son âme, je la méprise, son âme, je la regrette, je n’y pense plus. Qu’est-ce que ça me fait à moi, son âme ? savez-vous ce que c’est que son âme ? Mais c’est son corps que je veux ! c’est son regard, sa vie, c’est elle enfin ! et vous ne m’avez rien rendu de tout cela.
Ces femmes m’ont trompé, eh bien, je les ai maudites.
Cette malédiction est retombée sur moi, philosophe imbécile qui ne sais pas comprendre un mot sans L’épeler, croire à une âme sans la sentir, et craindre un Dieu dont, semblable au Prométhée d’Eschyle, je brave les coups et que je méprise trop pour blasphémer. ~ Gustave Flaubert,#NFDB
375:Breitmann As An Uhlan.
GOTTS blitz! blau Feuer, potz bomben Tod!
Vot shimmers in de mitnacht roth?
Like hell-shtrom boorst o'er heafen's plain,
Trowin dead light on eart acain:Ja! - wide im nord om Odin shtone
Lies a shiant form im glare alone.
Troonk py de eis-kalt roarin shdream
Der Hans ish hafe ein wunder tream.
Troonk om haunted Odinstein
Im Hexenlicht und Elfenschein
Vhere blooty Druids omens trew
From grin und screech of shaps dey slew;
Or vhere der Norseman long of yore
Vas carven eagles on de shore,
As o'er him yell de Valkyr broot
Und crows valk round knee teep im ploot,
Vhile rabens schkreem o'er ruddy bay;
Dere - ten pottles troonk - Hans Breitmann lay.
Fast und rof der war-man shnore
Like de hammer-shlog of Thor,
Schnell ash Mjollner's bang und beat
Heaved de form from het to veet
Vhile apofe him in de shkies
Dere he saw a glorie rise,
Und im mittle von it all
De iron lords of crate Valhall.
Long he gaze mit wolfen glare
At de Aesir in de air,
Long mit schneerin baren grin
He toorn his nase auf und hin
(For ne'er a Sherman - tam de ottsVas efer yet gife in to Gotts),
Dill avery Aes owned oop dat he
A gott-like man of brass moost pe.
Shtern der Breitmann raise his het,
28
To his fader Gotts he set:
'Let your worts of wisehood shlip;
Rush your runes, und let 'em rip!
For you de gotts hafe efer pe
Of dose who vere ash gotts to me:Alt Thor der Thoren here pelowVot hell you vants, I'd like to know?'
Antworded ash de donner clangs,
Der fader of de iron bangs:
'De gotts will let de hell-dogs go,
Und raise damnation here pelow;
Until de sassy Frenchmen schmell
De rifers ten dat roon troo hell
To telle dis I comme dence,
Dou lord of lion impudence.
'Drafeller! I know dee vell!
Breitmann improturbable!
Vhen on eart I hat my shy,
Breitmann of dat age vas I.
I schwear py Thor! so crate und gay,
I smashed de Jotuns in my tay,
Und dou shall pe ge-writ sooplime
Ash de crate Thor of deiner time.
'Now ve lets de eagles vly
Skreemin troo de vlamin shky,
Our own specials: - dare nod laugh;
For in de London Telegraph,
A voondrous poy vot make oos shdare,
For hop vhat may, he's alvays dere!
Vill dell de worlt, troo blut and flame,
Hans Breitmann ist der Uhlan's name.
'Und all dou e'er on eart has done,
From oop gang oontil settin sun,
Vill pe ash nix - I schvear py Thor!
To vat dou'lt do in dieser war;
Plazin roofs und mordered men,
Hell set loose on eart again;
Rush und ride in shtorm und floot,
29
Cannon roarin, pools of bloot;
Deutschland mad in fool career,
Led py dy Uhlanen speer,
Hell's harfest - sheafs of fictorie,
Reaped mit deat's sword und reapt by dee!
'Ja! On many a dorf und disch,
Dou shalt pring a requisish;
Dwendy dimes de Frantscher men
Hafe sporned dy land in blut acainAll dose dwenty dimes in von,
Py Deutschland shall to France pe done,
Und dwenty dimes in blut and wein
Shalst dou refenge de Palatine.
'Go! - mit shpeer und fiery muth!
Go! - mit durst for bier und blut!
Go! - mit lofe for Vaterland,
Into burning fury fanned:
Towns und hen-roosts shall hafe shown
Vhere der Uhlan ist peen gone,
Und cocks vill roon und men crow tame
To hear of der Uhlanen name.'
Der fision fadet in de shky,
Und hours vent on und time goed py.
Vot heardest dou, Napolium?
De rumpitty, rumpitty, rumpitty poom!
Ven you hear de sound of de droom,
Oh denn you know dat de Dootch hafe coom,
De treadful roarin Dootch, mit de droom
Und de roompitty, pumpitty, poompity pum!
De wild ferocious Dootch on a bum,
Mit cannon roar und pattle hum,
Mit fee und faw on de foe und fum!
Led py de awful Breitemum!
Bitty boom!! BOOM!!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
376:Where is the graveyard of dead gods? What lingering mourner waters their mounds? There was a time when Jupiter was the king of the gods, and any man who doubted his puissance was ipso facto a barbarian and an ignoramus. But where in all the world is there a man who worships Jupiter today? And who of Huitzilopochtli? In one year - and it is no more than five hundred years ago - 50,000 youths and maidens were slain in sacrifice to him. Today, if he is remembered at all, it is only by some vagrant savage in the depths of the Mexican forest. Huitzilopochtli, like many other gods, had no human father; his mother was a virtuous widow; he was born of an apparently innocent flirtation that she carried out with the sun.
When he frowned, his father, the sun, stood still. When he roared with rage, earthquakes engulfed whole cities. When he thirsted he was watered with 10,000 gallons of human blood. But today Huitzilopochtli is as magnificently forgotten as Allen G. Thurman. Once the peer of Allah, Buddha and Wotan, he is now the peer of Richmond P. Hobson, Alton B. Parker, Adelina Patti, General Weyler and Tom Sharkey.
Speaking of Huitzilopochtli recalls his brother Tezcatlipoca. Tezcatlipoca was almost as powerful; he consumed 25,000 virgins a year.
Lead me to his tomb: I would weep, and hang a couronne des perles. But who knows where it is? Or where the grave of Quetzalcoatl is? Or Xiuhtecuhtli? Or Centeotl, that sweet one? Or Tlazolteotl, the goddess of love? Of Mictlan? Or Xipe? Or all the host of Tzitzimitl? Where are their bones? Where is the willow on which they hung their harps? In what forlorn and unheard-of Hell do they await their resurrection morn? Who enjoys their residuary estates? Or that of Dis, whom Caesar found to be the chief god of the Celts? Of that of Tarves, the bull? Or that of Moccos, the pig? Or that of Epona, the mare? Or that of Mullo, the celestial jackass? There was a time when the Irish revered all these gods, but today even the drunkest Irishman laughs at them.
But they have company in oblivion: the Hell of dead gods is as crowded
as the Presbyterian Hell for babies. Damona is there, and Esus, and
Drunemeton, and Silvana, and Dervones, and Adsullata, and Deva, and
Bellisima, and Uxellimus, and Borvo, and Grannos, and Mogons. All mighty gods in their day, worshipped by millions, full of demands and impositions, able to bind and loose - all gods of the first class. Men labored for generations to build vast temples to them - temples with stones as large as hay-wagons.
The business of interpreting their whims occupied thousands of priests,
bishops, archbishops. To doubt them was to die, usually at the stake.
Armies took to the field to defend them against infidels; villages were burned, women and children butchered, cattle were driven off. Yet in the end they all withered and died, and today there is none so poor to do them reverence.
What has become of Sutekh, once the high god of the whole Nile Valley? What has become of:
Resheph
Anath
Ashtoreth
El
Nergal
Nebo
Ninib
Melek
Ahijah
Isis
Ptah
Anubis
Baal
Astarte
Hadad
Addu
Shalem
Dagon
Sharaab
Yau
Amon-Re
Osiris
Sebek
Molech?
All there were gods of the highest eminence. Many of them are mentioned with fear and trembling in the Old Testament. They ranked, five or six thousand years ago, with Yahweh Himself; the worst of them stood far higher than Thor. Yet they have all gone down the chute, and with them the following:
Bilé
Ler
Arianrhod
Morrigu
Govannon
Gunfled
Sokk-mimi
Nemetona
Dagda
Robigus
Pluto
Ops
Meditrina
Vesta
You may think I spoof. That I invent the names. I do not. Ask the rector to lend you any good treatise on comparative religion: You will find them all listed. They were gods of the highest standing and dignity-gods of civilized peoples-worshiped and believed in by millions. All were omnipotent, omniscient and immortal.
And all are dead. ~ H L Mencken,#NFDB
377:Breitmann As An Uhlan.
VOT gollops at mitnight,
Mit h'roolah and yell,
Like der teufel's wild yager
Boorst loose out of hell?
Vot cleams in the sonrise
Bright vlashin in gold?
Das sind die Uhlancers
Of Breitmann der bold.
Dey frighten de coontry,
Dey ploonder de town;
And when dey are oop
Die Franzosen co down:
For pefore de wild Norsemen
De Southron must flee;
Ab ira Normannorum
Libera nos Domine!
How dey sweep de chateaux!
How dey grab oop de hens!
Und gobble de toorkeys
Shoot oop in de pens
Like de Angel of Deat'
Dey are ragin abroad:
You may track dem py fedders
Knee-deep in de road.
O der Breitmann ish on,
Und der Breitmann is on,
Und mit him de Uhlans
Are ploonderin gone.
De demon of fengeance
His wings o'er em vave,
Mit deir fingers like hooks,
Und mit maws like de grafe.
Dey coom to a castel,
So shplendid, of bricks;
Franzosen defend it,
35
Das help em gar nichts.
For de Uhlans hafe take it,
Dey smash in de gate,
Und inshpired by Gott's fury,
Dey shdole all de plate.
From shamber to shamber
Dey fighted deir way,
Till dead in de hall
De Franzosen all lay;
Und dere shtood a madchen,
So lieblich und hold,
Who laugh at de dead
Troo her ringlocks of gold.
Denn der Breitmann, all plooty,
To'm madel so lind,
Spoke courtly und tender:
'Vy laughst dou, mein kind?'
Denn de plue-eyed young peaudy,
Mit lippe so red,
Said, 'Vy not shall I laughen?
Vhen Frenchmen are dead.
'I coom here from Deutschland,
De shildren to teach;
Dey mock me for Deutsch,
Und dey sneer at mein sbeech;
Und since de war komm,
I vas nearly gone mad,
You wouldn't peliefe
How dey dreet me so pad.'
Mit a tear Breitmann bend
To de peaudifool miss;
'Crate Gott! can'st dou suffer
Soosh horrors ash dis?'
His arm round de maiden
Der hero has bound,
Und it shtaid dere goot vhile,
Fore dey got it unwound.
36
'Ho! fetch me de diamonds!
Ho! shell out de rings!
Mit all in de castle
Of dat sort of dings.'
Twas brought to de CaptainA donderin load:
At de veet of de madchen
Dat ploonder he trowed.
'Ho! pring oos champagner!
Und light oop de hall!
Dis night der Herr Breitmann
Will gife you a ball.
Dat pile of dead vellers,
Vot died for La France,
May see, if dey like,
How de Shermans can tance.'
Dey find laties' garments,
Und - troot to confessLikewise som Frantsch maidens,
Who help dem to tress.
De rest of de Uhlans
Who hadn't soosh loves,
Fixed oop in black clothes
Mit white chokers und gloves.
Now hei! for de fittles!
Und hei! for clavier!
For de tantz of de UhlansDe men of de speer!
How de shendlemen ashk
If dey'd blease introduce;
How de ladies mit beards
Were called Espionnes Prusses!
Hei, ho! how dey tanzet!
Hei, ho! how dey sang!
How mit klingen of glasses
De braun arches rang.
How dey trill from deir hearts
Ash dey pour out der wein,
37
De songs of de Oberland,Songs of der Rhein.
Und madder und wilder,
All whirlin around,
Vent Hans mit de maiden
In Bacchanal bound.
She helt to his peard,
Und dey gissed as if mad;
I tont dink dat efer
Vas dimes like dey had.
Boot calm in de hall,
Ever calm on de floor,
Was a row of still guests
Dat wouldn't tantz nefermore.
Mit plood shtreams black winding,
Der lord mit his men,
When der Youngest Day cooms
Hans may meet dem acain.
Hoorah for der Uhlan,
So rash und so wild!
Hoorah for der Uhlan,
Der teufel's own child!Dis ish 'Breitmann's Last Barty,'
Dey'll sing it for years;
De lords of de lanzes,
De sons of de speers.
For dey frighten de coontry,
Dey ploonder de town;
Und when dey are oop
De Franzosen go down;
For pefore de wild Norsemen
Weak Southrons moost flee,
Ab ira Normannorum
Libera nos Domine!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
378:Breitmann In Belgium. Spa.
VHEN sommer drees shake fort deir leafs,
Ash maids shake out deir locks,
Und singen mit de rifulets,
Vitch ripplen round de rocks,
Und beople swarm land-outwards,
Und cities weary men,
Hans Breitmann rode de Belgier mark
For Spa in Les Ardennes.
Und vhen he came to Spadenland,
He found it fein und fair,
For dey pour him out de peke schnapps,
Dazu elixer rare;
Und mit a soldier's inshdink
To find a shanse to shoot,
Mitout delay he fire afay
Right in de Grande Redoute.
De virst shot dat der Breitmann fired
He pring de peaches down,
For he hit de double zero mit
A gold Napoleon.
Und ash he raked de shiners in,
He hummed a liddle doon:
'I kess I tont try dat again,'
Said he, dis afdernoon.
Boot vhen he coom to rouge et noir,
A tear fell tripplin denn,
Id look so moosh like goot old dimes,
To come dose games again.
Yet vhen he lossed a hundred francs,
He sadly toorned afay,
'I'd rader keep de tiger here,
Dan vight him, any day.'
Und shtanding py de daple,
He saw a French lorette
Vat porrowed shpecie all around,
56
Und lossed at efery bet.
'Id's all de same mit dis or dat,
Or any kind of sin,
De lorette or de rolette - bot'
Will make de money shpin.'
He trinket of Le Pouhon well,
Und from La Sauveniere;
He tried it ad de Barisart,
Und auch de Geronstere.
'Dey say dat Troot' lie in a well,
So trink from all we can,
Und here we'll prove dat Troot is Health,'
Dat's so, sayd Breitemann.
So long in ruined Franchimont
He sat on hollowed ground,
Und dinked of Wilhelm de la Marck,
Who'd raked dat coontry round.
'Mein Gott! how id vas mofe mine heart
To read in hishdory,
Und find de scattered shinin lights
Of vellers shoost like me!
'Dis nople boar-pig of Ardennes,
Dis shtately Wallowin lord,
Vas make him vamous py de pen,
Und glorious py de swordt.
Und showed his hero-scholarship,
Vhen he wrote to de pishop, 'Satis,
Brulabo monasterium
Vestrum, si non payatis.'
'Dey say dat in de keller here
Dere lifes a coblin briest,
Dereto a teufelsjagersmann
Vot guard a specie chest.
O if I vonce could find de vay,
Und spot dat box of checks,
I voonder shoost how long 'twould pe
Pefore I'd twis deir necks.'
57
Und in de Walk of Meyerbeer,
Vhere plashin brooklets ring,
He see vhere in de water wild
De wood-birds flip deir wing.
'Ash de prooklet's lost in de rifer,
Und de rifer's lost in de sea,
Mine soul kits lost on water 'plain,''
Says Breitemann, says he.
Und ash he walked de Meyerbeer
He marcked, peside de way,
A rock shoost like a wild boar's head,
Vraie tete du sanglier.
Der Breitmann heafe a shiant sigh,
Und say mit 'motion grand:
Von crate idee ish uber all
In dis der Schweinpig's land.
He drafel troo de Val d'Ambleve,
He lounge de schweet Sept Heures,
He shdare indo de window-shops,
Und see de painted ware.
He looket at de fans und dings,
Denn said, 'To tell de trut',
Dere's painted vares more dear ash dis
Oop shdairs in La Redoute.'
Und sittin in de Champignon,
Vitch rose 'neat Lofe's schweet hand,
He read in books of Marmontel,
Of Jeannette et Lubin.
Id's nice to see Simplicitas
Rococoed oop mit vlowers,
Und dink soosh virtue shdill may life
In dis base vorldt of ours.
'Tvas here, oopon de Spadoumont
Deir gottashe used to set;
'Tvas here they keeped von simple cow
Likevise an lettuce-bett.
Berhaps I hafe crown vorldly since,
Yet shdill may druly say,
58
Dat in mine poyhood's tays I vas
Apout so good ash dey.
But he vot vant to see dis land,
Und has nod time for all:
Eash woodland nook und shady brook;
On Herr Marcette shouldt call.
For he has baintet all to live
Vhen de drees demselfs are gone;
Und shoost so goot as artist, auch,
Ish he bon compagnon.
Farevell, schveet Spa - dou home of vlowers,
Of ruin and of rock,
Vhere vild pirds sing und de band ish blay
Eash day at sefen o'clock.
If all de shbrees dat Spa has seen
Vere melted into von,
De soul vouldt reach Nirwana - lost
In transcendental fun.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
379:Two-An'-Six
Merry voices chatterin',
Nimble feet dem patterin',
Big an' little, faces gay,
Happy day dis market day.
Sateday, de marnin' break,
Soon, soon market-people wake;
An' de light shine from de moon
While dem boy, wid pantaloon
Roll up ober dem knee-pan,
'Tep across de buccra lan'
To de pastur whe' de harse
Feed along wid de jackass,
An' de mule cant' in de track
Wid him tail up in him back,
All de ketchin' to defy,
No ca' how dem boy might try.
In de early marnin'-tide,
When de cocks crow on de hill
An' de stars are shinin' still,
Mirrie by de fireside
Hots de coffee for de lads
Comin' ridin' on de pads
T'rown across dem animul-Donkey, harse too, an' de mule,
Which at last had come do'n cool.
On de bit dem hol' dem full:
Racin' ober pastur' lan',
See dem comin' ebery man,
Comin' fe de steamin' tea
Ober hilly track an' lea.
Hard-wuk'd donkey on de road
Trottin' wid him ushal load,
Hamper pack' wi' yam an' grain,
Sour-sop, and Gub'nor cane.
Cous' Sun sits in hired dray,
79
Drivin' 'long de market way;
Whole week grindin' sugar cane
T'rough de boilin' sun an' rain,
Now, a'ter de toilin' hard,
He goes seekin' his reward,
While he's thinkin' in him min'
Of de dear ones lef behin',
Of de loved though ailin' wife,
Darlin' treasure of his life,
An' de picknies, six in all,
Whose 'nuff burdens 'pon him fall:
Seben lovin' ones in need,
Seben hungry mouths fe feed;
On deir wants he thinks alone,
Neber dreamin' of his own,
But gwin' on wid joyful face
Till him re'ch de market-place.
Sugar bears no price to-day,
Though it is de mont' o' May,
When de time is hellish hot,
An' de water cocoanut
An' de cane bebridge is nice,
Mix' up wid a lilly ice.
Big an' little, great an' small,
Afou yam is all de call;
Sugar tup an' gill a quart,
Yet de people hab de heart
Wantin' brater top o' i',
Want de sweatin' higgler fe
Ram de pan an' pile i' up,
Yet sell i' fe so-so tup.
Cousin Sun is lookin' sad,
As de market is so bad;
'Pon him han' him res' him chin,
Quietly sit do'n thinkin'
Of de loved wife sick in bed,
An' de children to be fed-What de laborers would say
When dem know him couldn' pay;
Also what about de mill
80
Whe' him hire from ole Bill;
So him think, an' think on so,
Till him t'oughts no more could go.
Then he got up an' began
Pickin' up him sugar-pan:
In his ears rang t'rough de din
'Only two-an'-six a tin'.'
What a tale he'd got to tell,
How bad, bad de sugar sell!
Tekin' out de lee amount,
Him set do'n an' begin count
All de time him min' deh doubt
How expenses would pay out;
Ah, it gnawed him like de ticks,
Sugar sell fe two-an'-six!
So he journeys on de way,
Feelinl sad dis market day;
No e'en buy a little cake
To gi'e baby when she wake,-Passin' 'long de candy-shop
'Douten eben mek a stop
To buy drops fe las'y son,
For de lilly cash nea' done.
So him re'ch him own a groun',
An' de children scamper roun',
Each one stretchin' out him han',
Lookin' to de poor sad man.
Oh, how much he felt de blow,
As he watched dem face fall low,
When dem wait an' nuttin' came
An' drew back deir han's wid shame!
But de sick wife kissed his brow:
'Sun, don't get down-hearted now;
Ef we only pay expense
We mus' wuk we common-sense,
Cut an' carve, an' carve an' cut,
Mek gill sarbe fe quattiewut;
We mus' try mek two ends meet
Neber mind how hard be it.
81
We won't mind de haul an' pull,
While dem pickny belly full.'
An' de shadow lef' him face,
An' him felt an inward peace,
As he blessed his better part
For her sweet an' gentle heart:
'Dear one o' my heart, my breat',
Won't I lub you to de deat'?
When my heart is weak an' sad,
Who but you can mek it glad?'
So dey kissed an' kissed again,
An' deir t'oughts were not on pain,
But was 'way down in de sout'
Where dey'd wedded in deir yout',
In de marnin' of deir life
Free from all de grief an' strife,
Happy in de marnin' light,
Never thinkin' of de night.
So dey k'lated eberyt'ing;
An' de profit it could bring,
A'ter all de business fix',
Was a princely two-an'-six.
~ Claude McKay,#NFDB
380:Breitmann In Forty-Eight
DERE woned once a studente,
All in der Stadt Paris,
Whom jeder der ihn kennte,
Der rowdy Breitmann hiess.
He roosted in de rue La Harpe,
Im Luxembourg Hotel,
'Twas shoost in anno '48,
Dat all dese dings pefel.
Boot he who vouldt go hoontin now
To find dat rue La Harpe,
Moost hafe oongommon shpecdagles,
Und look darnation sharp.
For der Kaisar und his Hausmann
Mit hauses made so vree,
Dere roon shoost now a Bouleverse
Vhere dis shdreet used to pe.
In dis Hotel de Luxembourg,
A vild oldt shdory say,
A shtudent vonce pring home a dame,
Und on de nexter day,
He pooled a ribbon from her neckOff fell de lady's het;
She'd trafelled from de guillotine,
Und valked de city - deadt.
Boot Breitmann nefer cared himself
If dis vas falsch or drue,
I kess he hat mit lifin gals
Pout quite enough to do.
Und Februar vas gomin,
Ganz revolutionnaire,
Und vhere der Teufel had vork on hand,
Der Hans vas alvays dere.
Und darker grew de beople's brows,
No Banquet could dey raise,
So dey shtood und shvore at gorners,
60
Or dey singed de Marseillaise.
Und here und dere a crashin sound
Like forcin shutters ran,
Und boorstin gun-schmidts' vindows in
Hard vorked der Breitemann.
He helped to howl Les Girondins,
To cheer de beople's hearts;
He maket dem bild parricades
Mit garriages und garts.
Vhen a bretty maiden sendinel
Vonce ask de countersign,
He gafe das kind a rousin giss,
Gott hute dir und dein!
Und wilder vent de pattle,
France spread her oriflamme,
Und deeper roared de sturm bell,
De bell of Notre Dame;
Und he who nefer heard it,
O'er shots und cries of fear,
Loud booming like a dragon's roar,
Has someding yet to hear.
Und in de Fauborg Sainte Antoine
Dere comed a fusillade,
Und dyin groans und fallin dead
Vere roundt dat parricade,
But der song of Revolution
From a tousand voices round,
Made a fearful opera gorus
To de deat' gries on de ground.
Und all around dose parricades
Dey raise der teufel dere;
Somedimes dey vork mit pig-axes,
Und somedimes mit gewehr.
Dey maket prifate houses
Gife all deir arms afay,
Und denn oopon de panels
Dey writet Armes donnees.
61
Und ve saw mid roarin vollies,
Shtreaked like banded settin suns,
Two regiments coome ofer,
Und telifer oop deir guns.
Hei! - how de deers vere roonin:
Hei! - how dey gryed hurrahs!
For dey saw de vight vas ofer,
Und dey know dey gained deir cause.
Dus spoke deir hearts outboorstin,
In battle by de blade,
From sun to sun mit roarin gun
Und donnerin parricade.
In vain pefore de depudies
De princes tremblin stood,
Vot comes in France too late a day
Cooms shoost in dime for blood.
Vhen de Tuileries vas daken,
Amid de scotterin shot,
Und vlyin stones, und howlin,
Und curses vild und hot,
'Tvas dere Hans clobbed his musket,
Und dere de man vas first
To roosh into de palace,
Ven de toors vere in-geburst.
Some vellers burn de guart-haus,
Some trink des Konigs wein;
Some fill deir hats mit rasbry sham,
Und prandy beeches fein.
Hans Breitmann in de gitchen
Vas shdare like avery ding,
To see vot lots of victual-de-dees
Id dakes to feed a king.
Und oder volk, like plackguarts,
Vent dook de goaches out;
Und burnin dem, dey rolled dem
Afay mit yell und shout.
Der Breitmann in der barlor,
Help writen rapidly,
62
La liberte pour la Pologne!
Likevise - pour l'Italie!
Den in der Tuileries courtyard
Ten tousand volk come on;
Dey vas gissin und hurrahin
For to dink der king vas gone.
Some vas hollerin und tantzin
Round de blazin oldt caboose;
Vhen Frantschmen kits a goin,
Den dey lets der teufel loose.
Boot von veller set me laughin,
Who roosh madly roun de field;
He hat rop de Cluny Museum,
Und gestohlen speer und schild.
Mit a sblendit royal charger,
Vitch he hat somevhere found,
Like a trunken Don Quixote,
He vent tearin oop und round.
Doun vent de line of Bourbons,
Doun vent de vork of years,
Ash de pillars of deir temple
Ge-crashed like splintered speers;
Und o'er dem rosed a phantom,
Wild, beautiful, und weak,
Vhile millions gry arount herVive! vive la Republique;
Tree days mid shdiflin powder shmoke,
Tree days mid cheers und groans,
Ve fought to guard de parricades,
Or pile dem oop mit shtones.
De hand vitch held de bistol denn,
Or made de crowbar bite,
Das war de same Hans Breitmann's hand
Vitch now dese verses write.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
381:Breitmann In Rome
DERE'S lighds oopon de Appian,
Dey shine de road entlang;
Und from ein hundert tombs dere brumms
A wild Lateinisch song;
It rings from Nero's goldnen haus;
Evoe! - here he coom!
Fly oud, ye moenads, from your craves!Hans Breitmann's got to Rome!
For vhile de lamp holts oud to purn,
Or von goot shpark ish dere,
Dere's hope for all of dem whose lives
Ish doun in Lempriere.
Von real, shenuine heathen
Is coom at last to home;
Ye shleepin gotts, lift oop your hetsHans Breitmann lifes in Rome!
Silenus mit der Hercules,
Dere-to der Maia's sohn,
Ish all unite in Breitmann
To make a stunnin one.
Frau Venus mit de Bacchanals
Ist shmile to see him come;
De Vesta only toorn her pack
Vhen Breitmann kit to Rome.
He vented to de Vacuum,
Vhere de Bope ish keep his bulls;
Boot couldn't vind dem, dough he heardt
Dat all de blace vas fools.
Dere ish here and dere some ochsen,
Right manivest I see;
Boot de bools all comes from Irish priests,
Said Breitemann, said he.
Und goin' py de Vacuum,
Und passin' troo de yard;
Mein Gott! how vas he stoomple, vhen
82
He see der Schweitzer guard,
Mit efery kinds of colors tresst,
Like shtreamers in de van.
'Hans Wurst ist stets ein Deutscher g'west,'
Das marked der Breitemann.
Und dus replied an guartsmann:'I shoys to see you here:
Ich bin dem Bapst sei Laibgaertner.
Dazu a halberthier.
Dis purpur kleid of yellow-plue
Vas made, ash I hafe heard,
Py von Hans Michel Angelo,
Der tailor of our guard.
'Ve're shoost von hoondert dirty strong,
Ve list for twenty year;
De serfice ist not pad, boot disVerdamm das Romisch bier!
For ven mit birra gazzosa
A maiden fills my glass,
She might ash vell gife gift ash say'Feinslieb, ich schenk dir dass!''
Und dus rebly der Breitmann:'Un Tedesco Italianazato,
Ein Deutscher toorned Italian, ish
Il diavolo in carnato.
Your clothes are like infernal flames,
Dey burn my fery soul;
Boot to-night we'll trink togedder - nun
Lieb'landsmann lebe wohl!'
At de Sherman artisds' festa,
Vhere all vas pright und fair,
'Tvas fairer und more prighterfull
Vhen Breitmann enter dere.
Und der vaiters in de Greco
(So long he trinked und sot)
Vas called him L'Ubbriacone'Tvas de name der Breitmann got.
83
He saw a veller in de shtreet,
Vot sell some friction-matches;
De kind dey call Infallible,
For dey blazes ven you scratches.
Dey dragged him off to brison,
Und tied him mit a rope;
For in Rome dere's nix Infallible,
Dey said, excebt de Bope.
Hans see de crate Prometheus,
In Corsini's gallery hang;
He tought apout de matches,
Und it made his heart go bang.
It's risk to carry light apout,
Too cheap for efery man;
How de Lucifers is fallen!
Ita dixit Breitmann.
He got among de Bope's Zouaves,
Dey trinked from morn to night;
Den frolicked colle belle
Ontil de shky crew pright.
It blease der Breitmann vonderfool,
And dus he often say:
'Zouaviter in modo ish
Der real Roman way.'
Boot oh, his heart burned vild mit fire,
His eyes gefilled mit tears,
At de gotts in efery bilder saal,
Mit goats' legs, tails, und ears.
Und he sopped - 'Ach liebes Deutschland,
Bist here on every hand?
Was machst du Mephistopheles
So weit im Walschen Land?'
Boot de wood-nymphs boorst out laughin,
Der Garten-gott dere to,
Und sait - 'Oldt Hans! vile you're apout
Ve nefer can look blue.'
Den Pan blay on his Syrinx,
To de tune of Mary Blane,
84
'Don't gry pecause ve're out of town,
Ve're coming pack again.
'Von day you got de yolk und vhite,
De next day only shells;
Von day dey holts a council,
Und de next day - 'someding else!'
Id's bopes und kings, und gotts and dings,
Oopon dis eartly ball;
Boot for me id's all von frolic,
Und a high oldt carnival!
'Rise oop, dou Odin-trafeler,
Und toorn dee to de Nort,
Wherefrom, as Bible dells dee,
Crate efil shall come fort.
Dere is mutterins in Ravenna,
Und ere long dere'll come a turn,
A real hell-bender from de land
Of Dieterich von Bern.
'Und ven der Breitmann's prototype,
Der Fictoor Manuel,
Cooms tromplin, tromplin troo de fern,
To give dis coontry hell.
Und ven in La Comarca,
Der is shtorm all in de air,
Dy Gotts vill gife dee vork, mein Sohn,
Hans Breitmann shall be dere!'
For a yar will nod be ofer
Pefore de Frantsch will run,
Und de game at last be ented,
Und Italy pe won.
Und denn in roarin battle,
For hishtory so grand,
Dy banner'll lead de Uhlan spears,
All in de Frankenland.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
382:Breitmann About Town
DER SCHWACKENHAMMER coom to down,
Pefore de Fall vas past,
Und by der Breitmann drawed he in
Ash dreimals honored gast.
'Led's see de sighdts! In self und worldt,Dere's 'sighdts' for him, to see,
Who Selbstanschauungsvermogen hat,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to de Opera Haus,
Und dere dey vound em blayin',
Of Offenbach (der open brook),
His show spiel Belle Helene.
'Dere's Offenbach, - Sebastian Bach,Mit Kaulbach, - dat makes dree:
I alvays like sooch brooks ash dese;'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to de Bibliothek,
Vhich Mishder Astor bilt:
Some pooks vere only en broschure,
Und some vere pound und gilt.
'Dat makes de gold - dat makes de sinn,
Mit pooks, ash men, ve see,
De pest tressed vellers guilt de most:'Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent to see an edidor,
Who'd shanged his flag und doon,
Und crowed oopon der oder side,
Dat very afdernoon.
'De anciends vorshipped wettercocks,
To wetter fanes pent de knee;
Pow down, mein Schwackenhammer, pow!'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented by a panker's hause,
Und Schwackenhammer shvore,
He only vant a pig red shield
13
Hoong oop pefore de toor;
One side of red, one side of gold,
Like de knighds in hisdorie'De schildern of dat schild is rich,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent oonto a bicture sale.
Of frames wort' many a cent,
De broperty of a shendleman,
Who oonto Europe vent.
'Don't gry - he'll soon pe pack again
Mit anoder gallerie:
He sells dem oud dwelf dimes a year,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to dis berson's house,
To see his furnidure,
Sold oud at aucdion rite afay,
Beremdory und sure.
'He geeps six houses all at vonce,
Each veek a sale dere pe,
Gotts! vot a dime his vife moost hafe!'Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent to vind a goot cigar,
Long dimes dey roamed apout,
Von veller had a pran new sort,
De fery latest out
'Mein freund - I dinks you errs yourself
De shmell ish oldt to me;
Dat Infamias Stinkadores brand,'Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to de virst hotel,
De prandy make dem creep,
A trop of id's enough to make
A brazen monkey veep.
'Dey say a viner house ash dis,
Vill soon ge-bildet pe,
Crate Gott! - vot can dey mean to trink?'
Said Breitemann, said he.
14
Dey vented droo de Irish shtreeds,
Dey saw vrom haus to haus,
Und gountet oop, 'pout more or less,
Vive hoondred awful rows.
'If all dese liddle vights dey waste,
Could von crate pattle pe,
Gotts! how de Fenian funds vouldt rise!'
Said Breitmann, said he.
Dey vent to see de Ridualisds,
Who vorship Gott mit vlowers,
In hobes he'll lofe dem pack again,
In winter among de showers.
'Vhen de Pacific railroat's done,
Dis dings imbrofed vill pe,
De joss-sticks vill pe santal vood,'Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent to hear a breecher of
De last sensadion shtyle,
'Twas 'nough to make der teufel weep
To see his 'awful shmile.'
'Vot bities dat der Fechter ne'er
Vas in Theologie,
Dey'd make him pishop in his shoorsh,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent indo a shpordin' crib,
De rowdies cloostered dick,
Dey ashk him dell dem vot o'glock,
Und dat infernal quick.
Der Breitmann draw'd his 'volver oud,
Ash gool ash gool couldt pe,
'Id's shoost a goin' to shdrike six,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent polid'gal meedins next
Dey hear dem rant and rail,
Der bresident vas a forger,
Shoost bardoned oud of jail.
He does it oud of cratitood,
To dem who set him vree:
15
'Id's Harmonie of Inderesds,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vent to a clairfoyand witch,
A plack-eyed handsome maid,
She wahrsagt all deir vortunes - denn
'Fife dollars, gents!' she said.
'Dese vitches are nod of dis eart',
Und yed are on id, I see,
Der Shakesbeare knew de preed right vell,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to a restaurand,
Der vaiter coot a dash;
He garfed a shicken in a vink,
Und serfed id at a vlash.
'Dat shap knows vell shoost how to coot
Und roon mit poulderie,
He vas copitain oonder Turchin vonce,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented to de Voman's Righds,
Vhere laties all agrees,
De gals should all pe voters,
Und deir beaux all de votees.
'For efery man dat nefer vorks,
Von frau should vranchised pe:
Dat ish de vay I solfe dis ding,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
Dey vented oop, dey vented down,
'Tvas like a roarin' rifer,
De sighds vere here - de sighds vere dereUnd de vorldt vent on forefer.
'De more ve trinks, de more ve sees,
Dis vorldt a derwisch pe;
Das Werden's all von whirling droonk,'
Said Breitemann, said he.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
383:Breitmann As An Uhlan. Ii. Brietmann In A Balloon.
WHO vas efer hear soosh voonders,
Holy breest or virshin nonn?
As pefelled de Coptain Breitmann,
Vhen he hoont an air-ballon.
Der Bizzy und der Dizzy,
Mit lothairingen und Lothair,
Vas nodings to dis Deutscher,
Who vent kitin troo de air.
Id was in yar Nofember,
In eighdeen sefendee,
Der Breitmann vent a prowlin,
By monden light vent he.
In fillages deserted
He hear de Uhu moan;
For you alvays hear der Uhu
Vhere der Uhu-lan ish gone.
Alone allonsed der Uhlan,
Boot nodings could he find
Safe whitey clouds a drivin
In moonshine fore de wind.
Boot ash he see dese cloudins
He bemark dat von vas round,
Und inshtead of goin oopwarts
It kep risin towards de ground.
'Oh, vot ish dis a gomin?
Some planet, py de Lord!
Too boor to life in heafen,
Coom down on eart to poard;
Und pelow it schwing tree engelsTwo he-vons mit a wench.
Boot, mein Gott! vot sort of engels
Can dose pe, dalkin Fraentsch!
'I hafe read in Eckhartshausen
Dat oop in heafen - py tam!
De engels dalk in Sherman,
39
Und sing Mardin Luther's psalm.
O nein - es sind kein engeln
Vot sail so smoofly on,
Das sind verfluchte Franzosen
In einem luft-ballon!'
Hei! how der Breitman streak it
Ven vonce he kess de trut'!
He spurred id like de wild fire
Of hope in early yout'.
Troo de weingarts like der teufel
Vhen he shase a lawyer's soul;
Down der moundain mit his lanze
Und his wafin banderol.
Down de moundain, o'er de valley,
Troo de village he ish gone;
Dog-barks die out pehind him,
Oders bark ash he come on.
Liddle heedet he deir bellin,
Liddle mind der Hahnen crow;
Liddle hear der Bauern yellin,
Clotter, clodder, on he go.
'Oh, vot ish hoontin foxen,
Und vot ish yager pliss,
Und vot ish shasin bison
On de blains, to soosh ash dis?
I hafe dinked dat roonin rebels
Vas de best of eartly fun;
Boot id isn't half so sholly
Ash to go a luft-ballon.'
Und ash id shdill vent onwart,
Shdill onwarts mit der wind,
Der coom a real madness
To catch id, o'er his mind.
Und had'st dou seen him vylin,
Dat wild onfuriate brick,
Dou'st hafe schworn dat Coptain Breitmann
Was pecome balloonatic.
40
In fain dey trow deir sand-bags,
In fain all dings let fall,
De ballon shdill kep a sinkin,
Und id vouldn't rise at all.
Yet de wild wind trife id onwarts,
Onwarts shdill der Breitmann go,
Dill he cotch id py a rope-ent
Vot vas hangin town pelow.
Boot vhen it risen oopwarts,
Ash he cling to id, of corse,
Mit de lefter hand he holtet
To de pridle of his horse.
Der horse valk on his hind-legs:
Too schwer to rise vas he;
Mein Gott! vot fix for Breitmann
Of de Uhlan cavallrie!
So he go for seferal stunden
Petween himmel und eart pelow,
Boot der teufel und die engels
Couldn't make der Hans let go.
Dill all at vonce an idee
Coom from his loocky shtarHe led co his horse's pridle
Und glimb oop indo de car.
Und vot you dinks he foundet
Vhen in dat air-ballon?
A nople Englisch vicomte,
Milord de Robinson;
Und mit him vas a laity,
Mit whom he'd rooned afay,
Whom he indroduce to Breitmann
Ash die Jungfer Salome.
Und der dritte was a barson,
Whom Milord, mit prudent view,
Hat took als secretaire,
Likevise for pallast doo.
Dey should hafe bitched him ofer
Vhen de gas was out, dey say;
41
Boot de dame vould not 'low it:She'd an arriere pensee.
Sait Milord: 'Afar we've wandered,
We are completely brown;
And I'll give a thousand shiners
If you'll take me to a town
Where no one will molest us
Till we find our way to Lon--'
Here der Breitmann ent de sentence
Ash he gry out, shortly, 'done.'
'And as for this fair lady
To whom I would be bound,'
Sait Milord, 'we'll have a wedding
Before we reach the ground.
To escape her father's anger
We fled to live in peace,
But she's relatives in London,
And they have - the police.'
O vas not dis a voonders
To make de Captain shdare?A tausend pounds in bocket
Und a veddin in de air?
He gafe avay de laity,
Und als sie wieder kam
Zur festen Erde wieder,
Ward sie Robinson Madame.
'O go mit me,' said Breitmann,
'O go in mein Quartier!
Don't mind dem gommon soldiers,
For I'm an officier.'
He guide dem troo de coontry
Till dey reach de ocean strand;
Now dey sit und pless Hans Breitmann,
In de far-off English land.
Dis ish Breitmann's last adfenture
How troo Himmel air flew he:
Und it's dime, oh nople reader!
42
For a dime to part from dee.
Dou may'st dake it all in earnest
Or pelieve id's only fon;
Boot dere's woonder dings has hoppent
Fery oft in Luft-ballon.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
384:Der Freischutz
AIR - 'Der Pabst lebt,'
WIE gehts, my frendts-if you'll allowI sings you rite afay shoost now
Some dretful shdories vitch dey calls
Der Freyschutz, or de Magic Balls.
Wohl in Bohemian land it cooms,
Vhere folk trink prandy mate of plooms;
Dere lifed ein Yaeger-Maxerl SchmitWho shot mit goons und nefer hit.
Now dere vas von oldt Yaeger, who
Says, 'Maxerl, dis vill nefer do;
If you shouldt miss on drial-tay,
Dere'll pe der tyfel denn to bay.
'If you do miss, you shtupid coose,
Dere'll pe de donnerwetter loose;
For you shant hafe mine taughter's hand,
Nor pe der Hertzhog's yaegersmann.'
Id coomed pefore de tay vas set,
Dat all de shaps togeder met;
Und Max he fired his goon und missed,
Und all de gals cot roundt und hissed.
Dey laughed pefore und hissed pehind;
Boot von shap-Kaspar-saidt, 'Ton't mind;
I dells you vot-you stoons 'em alls
If yoost you shoodt mit magic balls.'
'De magic balls! oh, vot is dat?'
'I cot soom in my hoontin' hat;
Dey're plack as kohl, und shoodt so drue:
Oh, dem's de kindt of balls for you.
'You see dat eagle vlyin' high,
Ein hoondred miles oop in de sky;
Shoot at dat eagle mit your bix,
108
You kills hin tead ash doonderblix!'
'I ton't pelieve de dings you say.'
'You fool,' says Kasp, 'denn plaze afay!'
He plazed afay, vhen, sure as plood,
Down coom de eagle in de mud.
'O was ist das?' said Maxerl Schmit:
'Vhy! dat's de eagle vot you hit.
You kills him vhen you plaze afay;
Boot dat's a ding you nix verstay.
'Und you moost go to make dem balls
To de Wolf's Glen vhen mitnight valls.
Dow know'st de shpot-alone und late''Oh ja-I know shim ganz foost-rate!
'Boot denn I does not like to co
Among dem dings.' Says Kasp, 'Ach, 'sho!
I'll help you fix dem tyfel chaps,
Like a goot veller-dake some schnapps!'
('Hilf Zamiel! hilf')-'Here, dake some more!'
Denn Kasp vent shtompin' roundt de vloor,
Und coomed his hoompugs ofer Schmit,
Dill Max saidt, 'Nun-ich gehe mit!'
All in de finster mitternocht,
Vhen oder folk in shleep vas lockt,
Down in de Wolfschlucht, Kasp tid dry
His tyfel-strikes und Hexery.
Mit skools und pones he mate a ring,
De howls und shpooks pegin to sing,
Und all the tyfels oonder croundt
Coom preakin' loose und rooshin' roundt.
Denn Maxerl cooms along: says he,
'Mein Gott! vot dings ish dis I see!
I dinks de fery tyfel und all
Moost help to make dem magic ball.
109
'I vish dat I had nix cum raus,
Und shtaid mineself in bett to house.'
'Hilf Zamiel!' cried Kasp; 'you whelpYou red Dootch tyfel-coom und help!'
Den oop dere coomed a tredfull shdorm,
De todtengrips aroundt tid schvarm;
De howl shoomped oop und flopt his vings
Und toorned his het like avery dings.
Oop droo de croundt dere coomed a pot
Mit leadt, und dings to make de shot;
Und hoellisch fire in grimson plaze,
Und awful schmells like Schweitzer kase.
Agross de scene a pine-shtick flew
Mit seferal shail-pirds vastened to;
Six treadtful shail-pirds mit deir vings
Tied to de shticks mit magic shtrings.
All droo de air, all in a row,
Die wilde Jagd vas seen to go;
De hounds und teer all mate of pone,
Und hoonted py a skilleton.
Dere coomed a tredful shpecdre pig,
Who, shpitten' fire afay, tid dig;
Und fiery drocks und tyfel-shnake
A scootin' droo de air tid preak.
Boot Kaspar tidn't mindt dem alls,
But casted out de pullet balls;
Six vas to go ash he vouldt like,
De sevent' moost for de tyfel shtrike.
Ad last, oopon de drial tay,
De gals cot roundt so nice und gay,
Und den dey goed und maked a tantz,
Und singed apout de Jungfernkranz.
Und denn der Hertshog-dat's der DukeCooms doun und dinks he'll dake a look;
110
'Young mans,' to Maxerl denn saidt he,
'Shoost shoot dem dove oopon dat dree!'
Denn Maxerl pointed mit de bix,
'Potzblitz!' says he, 'dat dove I'll fix!'
He fired his rifle at de Taub',
When Kass rollt ofer in de Staub.
De pride she falled too in de doost,
Dey gals dey cried, de men dey got coossed:
Der Hertshog says, 'Id's fery glear
Dat dere has peen some tyfels here!
'Und Max has shot mit tyfels-blei!
Pfui!-die verfluchte Hexerei!
O Maximilian! O Du
Gehst nit mit rechten Dingen zu!'
Boot denn a hermits coomed in late;
Says he, 'I'll fix dese dings foostrate;'
Und telled der Hertshog dat yung men
Vill raise der Tyfel now und denn.
De Duke forgifed de Kaspar dann,
Und mate of him a Yaegersmann,
Vhat shoodts mit bixen goon, und pfeil,
Und talks apout de Waidmannsheil.
Und denn de pride she coomed to life,
Und cot to pe de Maxerl's vife;
Denn all de beoples gried 'Hoorah!
Das ist recht brav! und hopsasa!'
MORAL
Py dis dings may pe oondershtood
Dat vhat is pad works ofden goot:
Or, Maximilia maximilibus curantur-if you will.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
385:Breitmann In Turkey
DERR BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich
Vas fighten high und low,
'Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein!
It's dime for us to go.
Zieh dein Kanonenstiefel an,
Und schleife Dir das Schwert,
Schon lang her han mer nichts gethan,
Der Weg ist reitenswerth.'
'Oopon vitch side? I hartly know
Boot von side in dis war:
Dere ist de holy Russ-land
All mit a holy Tsar;
But I pe not a holy-er,
Nor you von Saint, I fear;
Out line is holy ploonder,
Mit sacred Lager-bier.
'Dere's von Constantinoble-man
Vot write to me, und say
He kits me an commission
To make me Breitmann Bey,
Und if I mounts de turpan
Und keeps de Muslin law,
Und bribes ein wenig, den I rise
To Breitemann Pasha.
'Dis much is drue, dat Toorkey is
A real Powder land,
Und if dey're goin' to touch it off,
Vy, ve moost pe on hand.
Und if ve shpring into de airs
Vhile meddlin' in de fuss,
I rader dink some Russian bears
Vill shpring along mit us.'
Und ven he kit to Turkreich
Der Breitmann work like mad,
Und kit ein corps togeder,-
86
Mein Gott! vat men he had!
Mit Polers und mit Shipsies,
Ungaren, Turks, und such,
Und allerlei Gesindel. 'Hei!'
Says Hans: 'dis beats de Dutch!'
Den onwards to his Schicksal
Und forvarts troo de night,
Und oopwarts to his mission,
Und downvarts in de vight.
Until in de Bulgaren
Von night his horse he strode,
Und meet a tausand Kossacks
Pefore him on de road.
Slap forward rode der Breitmann
Right on de Kossack spears,
But forvarts coom deir leader
And halted his careers,
Und gry, 'O Turkisch Ritter,
I am de Capitan,
And if you want a shindy,
Step up, and I'm your man.'
Dey fightet like der teufel,
Dey fightet mit deir swords,
Und Breitmann vould hafe kilt him,
But 'twas not on de cards,
For de Kossack fire a bistol
As his retreadt pegan,Down from his horse all senseless
Flop! went der Breitemann.
Vhen he hafe kit his senses,
Der Breitmann find he lay
Insite a nople castell,
Upon a canape;
Und py his side a lady
So wunderschon to see,
Vas shlisin oop a lemon
Indo a cop of thee.
87
Den to himself say Breitmann,
Aldough he hold his jaw,
'Dis is de vinest womans,
Py Gott! I efer saw.
Vot lofeliness! vot muscle!
Mit efery himmlisch charm!
She measures twenty inches,
Bei Donner! roundt de arm.'
De lady see his glances
So noble und so game,
Und yust as he reflected
She dink of him de same,
Und she say, 'Wie gehts?' in English,
'Du galiant cavalier,
Who art pecome de captive
All of my bow und spear.
'I am a gal dis mornin',
Yestreen I vas a knight,
Old hoss - you nearly smashedme,
I guess, in that small fight;
And if I hadn't shot you
I think I should have ran.'
'Gottshimmel mit Potzbomben!
Egsclaim der Breitemann.
'But say, O nople lady,
Vot got you in dot set
Of plackgards - vilt dou dell me?'
De dame rebly: 'You bet!
My father came from Boston,
And when this war began
He got a splendid contract,
All with the Russi-an,
'To sell the army shoe-strings;
But I have read of fights,
And I dream of war and glory,
For I go for women's rights;
Then I read a book of poems
Which fairly turned my head,
88
The ballads of Hans Breitmann'-'Oh --- ho!' Hans Breitmann said.
'And as I think the Breitmann
Must be the greatest man
Who ever went a-fighting
Since History began,
I dressed me like a soldier,
For I am stark of limb;
With Breitmann for a model,
And try to act like him.
'Oh, tell me, noble captive,
While rolling in this storm
Which men call life, hast ever
Beheld Hans Breitmann's form?
Oh, could I once embrace him,
And gaze into his eye,
And feel his arms around me,
Then I would gladly die.
'He is the man of mortals,
The Odin of them all,
A higher Incarnation,
The 'Menschheitsideal,'
A being made to worship,
To me an earthly Gott'-'Py shings!' exglaim Hans Breitmann,
'Dis ding is gettin hot!
'O laity! - nople gountess!
Dis man of whom you dink
Ish lyin' here pefore you,
Half tead for want of trink,
Likewise for lofe of you, too,
Done up mit lofe and durst,
Und mit de two togeder,
I don't know vitch is vorst.
'And dou canst safe dy hero
From bitter Todespein,
If dou hast in de Keller
89
Only one Fass of wein.
Nay, doubt not - in my pocket
Is dot vitch brofes de man,
My bassport, und drei tavern bills
Against der Breitemann.'
De laity she emprace him
Oontil he nearly bust.
'Potz-blitz!' gasp out der Breitmann,
'She is a squeezer - yust!'
De dame she vas vealty,
Likewise an orphan too,
Mit a castel und a titel,
So Breitmann put it troo.
So soon the paar vere marrit,Hei! vot a dimes dey had!
Hei! how dey life togeder
So clorious und clad!
Now he has cot a titel
Dot was a Capitan;
Hier hat de tale ein Ende
Of Herr Count Breitemann.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
386:The Legend Of La Brea
Down beside the loathly Pitch Lake,
In the stately Morichal,
Sat an ancient Spanish Indian,
Peering through the columns tall.
Watching vainly for the flashing
Of the jewelled colibris;
Listening vainly for their humming
Round the honey-blossomed trees.
'Few,' he sighed, 'they come, and fewer,
To the cocorite bowers;
Murdered, madly, through the forests
Which of yore were theirs-and ours
By there came a negro hunter,
Lithe and lusty, sleek and strong,
Rolling round his sparkling eyeballs,
As he loped and lounged along.
Rusty firelock on his shoulder;
Rusty cutlass on his thigh;
Never jollier British subject
Rollicked underneath the sky.
British law to give him safety,
British fleets to guard his shore,
And a square of British freeholdHe had all we have, and more.
Fattening through the endless summer,
Like his own provision ground,
He had reached the summum bonum
Which our latest wits have found.
So he thought; and in his hammock
Gnawed his junk of sugar-cane,
Toasted plantains at the fire-stick,
Gnawed, and dozed, and gnawed again.
103
Had a wife in his ajoupa Or, at least, what did instead;
Children, too, who died so early,
He'd no need to earn their bread.
Never stole, save what he needed,
From the Crown woods round about;
Never lied, except when summonedLet the warden find him out.
Never drank, except at market;
Never beat his sturdy mate;
She could hit as hard as he could,
And had just as hard a pate.
Had no care for priest nor parson,
Hope of heaven nor fear of hell;
And in all his views of nature
Held with Comte and Peter Bell.
Healthy, happy, silly, kindly,
Neither care nor toil had he,
Save to work an hour at sunrise,
And then hunt the colibri.
Not a bad man; not a good man:
Scarce a man at all, one fears,
If the Man be that within us
Which is born of fire and tears.
Round the palm-stems, round the creepers,
Flashed a feathered jewel past,
Ruby-crested, topaz-throated,
Plucked the cocorite bast,
Plucked the fallen ceiba-cotton,
Whirred away to build his nest,
Hung at last, with happy humming,
Round some flower he fancied best.
Up then went the rusty muzzle,
104
'Dat de tenth I shot to-day:'
But out sprang the Indian shouting,
Balked the negro of his prey.
'Eh, you Senor Trinidada!
What dis new ondacent plan?
Spoil a genl'man's chance ob shooting?
I as good as any man.
'Dese not your woods; dese de Queen's woods:
You seem not know whar you ar,
Gibbin' yuself dese buckra airs here,
You black Indian Papist! Dar!'
Stately, courteous, stood the Indian;
Pointed through the palm-tree shade:
'Does the gentleman of colour
Know how yon Pitch Lake was made?'
Grinned the negro, grinned and trembledThrough his nerves a shudder ranSaw a snake-like eye that held him;
Saw-he'd met an Obeah man.
Saw a fetish-such a bottleBuried at his cottage door;
Toad and spider, dirty water,
Rusty nails, and nine charms more.
Saw in vision such a cock's head
In the path-and it was white!
Saw Brinvilliers in his pottage:
Faltered, cold and damp with fright.
Fearful is the chance of poison:
Fearful, too, the great unknown:
Magic brings some positivists
Humbly on their marrow-bone.
Like the wedding-guest enchanted,
There he stood, a trembling cur;
While the Indian told his story,
105
Like the Ancient Mariner.
Told how-'Once that loathly Pitch Lake
Was a garden bright and fair;
How the Chaymas off the mainland
Built their palm ajoupas there.
'How they throve, and how they fattened,
Hale and happy, safe and strong;
Passed the livelong days in feasting;
Passed the nights in dance and song.
'Till they cruel grew, and wanton:
Till they killed the colibris.
Then outspake the great Good Spirit,
Who can see through all the trees,
'Said-'And what have I not sent you,
Wanton Chaymas, many a year?
Lapp, agouti, cachicame,
Quenc and guazu-pita deer.
''Fish I sent you, sent you turtle,
Chip-chip, conch, flamingo red,
Woodland paui, horned screamer,
And blue ramier overhead.
''Plums from balata and mombin,
Tania, manioc, water-vine;
Let you fell my slim manacques,
Tap my sweet moriche wine.
''Sent rich plantains, food of angels;
Rich ananas, food of kings;
Grudged you none of all my treasures:
Save these lovely useless things.'
'But the Chaymas' ears were deafened;
Blind their eyes, and could not see
How a blissful Indian's spirit
Lived in every colibri.
106
'Lived, forgetting toil and sorrow,
Ever fair and ever new;
Whirring round the dear old woodland,
Feeding on the honey-dew.
'Till one evening roared the earthquake:
Monkeys howled, and parrots screamed:
And the Guaraons at morning
Gathered here, as men who dreamed.
'Sunk were gardens, sunk ajoupas;
Hut and hammock, man and hound:
And above the Chayma village
Boiled with pitch the cursed ground.
'Full, and too full; safe, and too safe;
Negro man, take care, take care.
He that wantons with God's bounties
Of God's wrath had best beware.
'For the saucy, reckless, heartless,
Evil days are sure in store.
You may see the Negro sinking
As the Chayma sank of yore.'
Loudly laughed that stalwart hunter'Eh, what superstitious talk!
Nyam {337} am nyam, an' maney maney;
Birds am birds, like park am park;
An' dere's twenty thousand birdskins
Ardered jes' now fram New Yark.'
Eversley, 1870.
~ Charles Kingsley,#NFDB
387:Xiii: Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny
'Tis growne almost a danger to speake true
Of any good minde, now: There are so few.
The bad, by number, are so fortified,
As what th'have lost t'expect, they dare deride.
So both the prais'd, and praisers suffer: Yet,
For others ill, ought none their good forget.
I, therefore, who professe my selfe in love
With every vertue, wheresoere it move,
And howsoever; as I am at fewd
With sinne and vice, though with a throne endew'd;
And, in this name, am given out dangerous
By arts, and practise of the vicious,
Such as suspect themselves, and think it fit
For their owne cap'tall crimes, t'indite my wit;
I, that have suffer'd this; and, though forsooke
Of Fortune, have not alter'd yet my looke,
Or so my selfe abandon'd, as because
Men are not just, or keepe no holy lawes
Of nature, and societie, I should faint;
Or feare to draw true lines, 'cause others paint:
I, Madame, am become your praiser. Where,
If it may stand with your soft blush to heare,
Your selfe but told unto your selfe, and see
In my character, what your features bee,
You will not from the paper slightly passe:
No Lady, but, at sometime loves her glasse.
And this shall be no false one, but as much
Remov'd, as you from need to have it such.
Looke then, and see your selfe. I will not say
Your beautie; for you see that every day:
And so doe many more. All which can call
It perfect, proper, pure, and naturall,
Not taken up o' th'Doctors, but as well
As I, can say, and see it doth excell.
That askes but to be censur'd by the eyes:
And, in those outward formes, all fooles are wise.
Nor that your beautie wanted not a dower,
Doe I reflect. Some Alderman has power,
Or cos'ning Farmer of the customes so,
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T'advance his doubtfull issue, and ore-flow
A Princes fortune: These are gifts of chance,
And raise not vertue; they may vice enhance.
My mirror is more subtill, cleare, refin'd,
And takes, and gives the beauties of the mind.
Though it reject not those of Fortune: such
As Blood, and Match. Wherein, how more than much
Are you engaged to your happie fate,
For such a lot! that mixt you with a State
Of so great title, birth, but vertue most,
Without which, all the rest were sounds, or lost.
'Tis onely that can time, and chance defeat:
For he, that once is good, is ever great.
Wherewith, then, Madame, can you better pay
This blessing of your starres, than by that way
Of vertue, which you tread? what if alone?
Without companions? 'Tis safe to have none.
In single paths, dangers with ease are watch'd:
Contagion in the prease is soonest catch'd.
This makes, that wisely you decline your life,
Farre from the maze of custome, error, strife,
And keepe an even, and unalter'd gaite;
Not looking by, or back (like those, that waite
Times, and occasions, to start forth, and seeme)
Which though the turning world may dis-esteeme,
Because that studies spectacles, and showes,
And after varied, as fresh objects goes,
Giddie with change, and therefore cannot see
Right, the right way: yet must your comfort bee
Your conscience, and not wonder, if none askes
For Truths complexion, where they all weare maskes.
Let who will follow fashions, and attyres,
Maintaine their liedgers forth, for forrain wyres,
Melt downe their husbands land, to powre away
On the close groome, and page, on new-yeares day,
And almost, all dayes after, while they live;
(They finde it both so wittie, and safe to give)
Let 'hem on poulders, oyles, and paintings, spend,
Till that no usurer, nor his bawds dare lend
Them, or their officers: and no man know,
Whether it be a face they weare, or no.
Let 'hem waste body, and state; and after all,
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When their owne Parasites laugh at their fall,
May they have nothing left, whereof they can
Boast, but how oft they have gone wrong to man:
And call it their brave sinne. For such there be
That doe sinne onely for the infamie:
And never think, how vice doth every houre,
Eat on her clients, and some one devoure.
You, Madam, yong have learn'd to shun these shelves,
Whereon the most of mankind wracke themselves,
And, keeping a just course, have early put
Into your harbour, and all passage shut
'Gainst stormes, or pyrats, that might charge your peace;
For which you worthy are the glad increase
Of your blest wombe, made fruitfull from above
To pay your lord the pledges of chaste love:
And raise a noble stemme, to give the fame,
To Cliftons blood, that is deny'd their name.
Grow, grow, faire tree, and as thy branches shoote,
Heare, what the Muses sing above thy root,
By me, their Priest (if they can ought divine)
Before the moones have fill'd their tripple trine,
To crowne the burthen which you go withall,
It shall a ripe and timely issue fall,
T'expect the honors of great 'Avbigny:
And greater rites, yet writ in mystery,
But which the Fates forbid me to reveale.
Only, thus much, out of a ravish'd zeale,
Unto your name, and goodnesse of your life,
They speake; since you are truly that rare wife,
Other great wives may blush at: when they see
What your try'd manners are, what theirs should be.
How you love one, and him you should; how still
You are depending on his word, and will;
Not fashion'd for the Court, or strangers eyes;
But to prease him, who is the dearer prise
Unto himselfe, by being so deare to you.
This makes, that your affections still be new,
And that your soules conspire, as they were gone
Each into other, and had now made one.
Live that one, still; and as long yeares do passe,
Madame, be bold to use this truest glasse:
Wherein, your forme, you still the same shall find;
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Because nor it can change, nor such a mind.
~ Ben Jonson,#NFDB
388:Breitmann As A Bummer
DER SHENERAL SHERMAN holts oop on his coorse,
He shtops at de gross-road und reins in his horse.
'Dere's a ford on de rifer dis day we moost dake,
Or elshe de grand army in bieces shall preak!'
Vhen shoost ash dis vord from his lips had gone bast,
There coomed a young orterly gallopin' fast,
Who gry mit amazement: 'Herr Shen'ral! Goot Lord!
Dat Bummer der Breitmann ish holdin' der ford!'
Der Shen'ral he ootered no hymn und no psalm,
But opened his lips und he priefly say 'D--n!
Dere moost hafe been viskey on dat side der rifer;
To get it dose shaps vould set hell in a shiver;
But now dat dey hold it, ride quick to deir aid:
Ho, Sickles! move promp'ly, send down a prigade!
Dat Dootchman moost vork mighty hard mit his sword
If againsd a whole army he holds to de ford.'
Dey spoored on, dey hoory'd on, gallopin' shtraight,
But for Breitmann help coomed shoost a liddle too late,
For as de Lauwine goes smash mit her pound,
So on to de Bummers de repels coom down:
Heinrich von Schinkenstein's tead in de road,
Dieterich Hinkelbein's flat as a toad;
Und Sepperl - Tyroler - shpoke nefer a vord,
But shoost 'Mutter Gottes!' und died in de ford.
Itsch'l of Innspruck ish drilled droo de hair,
Einer aus Boblingen - he too vash dereKarli of Karlisruh's shot near de fence
(His horse vash o'erloadet mit toorkies und hens),
Und dough he like a ravin' mad cannibal fought
Yet der Breitmann - der capt'n - der hero vash caught;
Und de last dings ve saw, he vas tied mit a cord,
For de repels had goppled him oop at de ford.
Dey shtripped off his goat und skyugled his poots
Dey dressed him mit rags of a repel recruits;
But von gray-haared oldt veller shmiled crimly und bet
24
Dat Breitmann vouldt be a pad egg for dem yet.
'He has more on his pipe as dem vellers allows,
He has cardts yet in hand und das Spiel ist nicht aus,
Dey'll find dat dey took in der Teufel to board,
De day dey pooled Breitmann vell ofer de ford.'
In de Bowery each beer-haus mit crape vas oopdone,
Vhen dey read in de papers dat Breitmann vas gone;
Und de Dootch all cot troonk oopon lager und wein,
At the great Trauer-fest of de Turner Verein.
Dere vas wein - en mit weinen ven beoplesh did dink
Dat Sherman's great Sharman cood nefer more trink.
Und in Villiam Shtreet veepin' und vailen' vas hoor'd,
Pecause der Hans Breitmann vas lost at de ford.
SECOND PART.
In dulce jubilo now ve all sings,
A-vaifin' de panners like efery dings.
De preeze droo de bine-trees ish cooler und salt,
Und der Shen'ral is merry venefer ve halt;
Loosty und merry he schmells at de preeze,
Lustig und heiter he looks droo de drees,
Lustig und heiter ash vell he may pe,
For Sherman, at last has marched down to the sea.
Dere's a gry from de guart - dere's a clotter und dramp,
Vhen dat fery same orterly rides droo de camp
Who report on de ford. Dere ish droples and awe
In de face of de youf' apout somedings he saw;
Und he shpeak me in Fraentsch, like he always do: 'Look!
Sagre pleu! Fentre Tieu! - dere ish Breitmann - his spook!
He ish goming dis vay! Nom de Garce! can it pe
Dat de spooks of de tead men coom down to de sea!'
Und he looks, und ve sees, und ve tremples mit tread,
For risin' all swart on de efenin' red
Vas Johannes - der Breitmann - der war es, bei Gott!
Coom riding' to oos-vard, right shtraight to de shpot!
All mouse-still ve shtood, yet mit oop-shoompin' hearts,
For he look shoost so pig as de shiant of de Hartz;
25
Und I heard de Sout Deutschers say 'Ave Morie!
Braise Gott all goot shpirids py land und by sea!'
Boot Itzig of Frankfort he lift oop his nose,
Und be-mark dat de shpook hat peen changin' his clothes,
For he seemed like an Generalissimus drest
In a vlamin' new coat und magnificent vest.
Six bistols beschlagen mit silber he vore,
Und a cold mounded swordt like a Kaisar he bore,
Und ve dinks dat de ghosdt - or votever he peMoost hafe proken some panks on his vay to de sea.
'Id is he!''Und er lebt noch!' he lifes ve all say:
'Der Breitmann - Oldt Breitmann! - Hans Breitmann! Herr Je!'
Und ve roosh to emprace him, und shtill more ve find
Dat vherefer he'd peen, he'd left noding pehine.
In bofe of his poots dere vas porte-moneys crammed,
Mit creen-packs stoof full all his haversack jammed,
In his bockets cold dollars vere shinglin' deir doons
Mit dwo doozen votches und four dozen shpoons,
Und dwo silber tea-pods for makin' his dea,
Der ghosdt hafe pring mit him, en route to de sea.
Mit goot sweed-botatoes, und doorkies, und rice,
Ve makes him a sooper of efery dings nice.
Und de bummers hoont roundt apout, alle wie ein,
Dill dey findt a plantaschion mit parrels of wein.
Den t'vas 'Here's to you, Breitmann! Alt Schwed' - bist zuruck?
Vot teufels you makes since dis fourteen nights veek?'
Und ve holds von shtupendous and derriple shpree
For shoy dat der Breitmann has got to de sea.
But in fain tid we ashk vhere der Breitmann hat peen,
Vot he tid; vot he pass droo - or vot he might seen?
Vhere he kits his vine horse, or who gafe him dem woons,
Und how Brovidence plessed him mit tea-pods und shpoons?
For to all of dem queeries he only reblies,
'If you dells me no quesdions, I ashks you no lies!'
So 'twas glear dat some derriple mysh'dry moost pe
Vhere he kits all dat ploonder he prings to de sea.
Dere ish bapers in Richmond dells derriple lies
26
How Sherman's grand armee hafe raise deir sooplies:
For ve readt in brindt dat der Sheneral Grant
Say de bummers hafe only shoost take vat dey vant.
But 'tis vhispered dat vhile a refolfer'll go round
Der BREITMANN vill nefer a peggin' be found;
Or shtarvin' ash brisner - by doonder! - not he,
Vhile der Teufel could help him to ged to de sea.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
389:The Magic Shoes
IT was stiller, dimmer twilight - amber toornin' into gold,
Like young maidens' hairs get yellow und more dark as dey crow old;
Und dere shtood a high ruine vhere de Donau rooshed along,
All lofely, yet neclected - like an oldt und silent song.
Out shpoke der Ritter Breitmann, 'Ven I hafe not forgot,
Ich kenn an anciendt shtory of dis inderesdin shpot,
Of the Deutscher Middleolter vot de Minnesingers sung,
Ven dot olt ruine oben vas a-bloomin, fair, und yung.
'Vonce dere lifed a noble fraulein - fery peautiful vas she,
More ash twendy dimes goot lookin - it is in de historie;
Und mit more ash forty quarters on her woppenshield, dot men
Might beholdt mitout a discount she vas of de upper ten.
'But dough lofely as an angel, mit eyes of turkos plue,
She vas cruel ash a teufel, und de vorst man efer knew.
Vonce ven a nople young one kneeled down to her mit lofe,
She kicket him mit her slipper und oopset him on de shtove.
'Und said, 'I do refuse you, as you may plainly see;
Und from dis day henseforvart mine refuse you shall pe,
Und when I do run afder you like dogs run afder men,
Den I vill pe your vife, yung man - boot keep avay dill denn!'
'He lishten to her crimly, and no single vort he said,
Boot de bitter dings she spoken poot der teufel in his head;
For she hafe not learned de visdom, vich is alvays safe and sound,
'Don't go to pourin' water on a mouse ven id ist trowned.'
'Vonce, at de end of autoom, ven de vind vos bitter cold,
Dis maiden out a-ridin' met a voman poor and old;
Her feets vere bare and pleedin', and she said, 'Ah! ton't refuse
To gife me, nople lady, yoosht de vorst of your oldt shoes!'
'De lady boorst out laughin', 'Fool here, or fool me dere,
You give to me a couple, I gives to you a pair.'
Denn she rode avay a-laughin'; de old voman says 'I wete,
I'll give you shoes, my lady, dot vill fit your soul and feet!'
164
'Dis voman vas a vitche, an bitter one dere to,
All dot vot she had shpoken she light enough could do;
De Ritter did not know it, but he told her of his love,
And how dot shkornful lady hat oopset him mit de shtove.
'Out spoke de grimme witche, 'She shall pay dee well to boot,
If yo pring to me de measure of dat lady's liddle foot.'
He got it from her shoemaker, and gafe id to de vitch,
Denn she gafe it to de damsel pooty soon as hot as pitch.
'Von morn de lofely lady, on openin' her toor,
Found de nicest pair of gaiter boots she efer saw pefore;
Dey vitted her exoctly - mitouten any doubtBoot, mein Gott! how she vas shrocken ven dey 'gun to valk apout!
'Und ash de poots go valkin', like de buds go mit de stem,
It vollowed dot de lady had to valk apout in dem.
Dey took her out into de street - dey run her on de road,
Bym-by she saw a man ahead vot led her vhere she goed.
'Vhen he vent valkin' longsome denn longsome vas her pace,
Vhen he roon like a greyhound she skompered in a race;
He led her o'er de moundains und cross de lonely plain,
Until de evenin' shadows, ven he took her home again.
'Denn she dink mit hate and fury of dis man she used to skoff,
Und den go at de gaiters - boot she couldn't pull dem off,
She vork mit all de servants, boot 'tvasent any use,
Und so she hafe to go to bett - a-shleepin' in her shoes.
'Next mornin' off dey shtarted, apout de broke of day,
Den he led her to a castle in de woods and far away,
And shpeak to her, 'My lady - I dink at last you see
Dat de dime has come in earnesdt vhen you've cot to vollow me!'
'Oh vat ish female nature? Oh vat ish mortal pride?
How all dot shtands de firmest most quickly shlips aside
De cloudts dot o'er de moundains look shkornful at de plain,
Ere long mit shtormy wetter come toomble down in rain.
'So de storm-cloud of Superbia vhich shweep her soul above,
165
Vas meltet mit his shternness and be-turned into love,
As his words like donner wetter croshed ven de lightnin' flies,
So downward coom de torrents of dear trops from her eyes.
'Und she gry, 'Mit shame I own it, to say de fery least,
I gonfess dat in dis matter I hafe acted like a peast;
Ven I made of you my refuse, I dinked it no account,
But now de pack is on my back it seems a big amount.
''But if you vish to ved me, I vill do vat you require.
He answered, 'Now you're talkin' - dot is yoost vot I tesire,
For I am very willin', and you do not refuse,
Boot remember vot you bromised - send de vitch a pair of shoes!'
'She answered, 'I vill follow verever you may go,
All ofer hills and falleys, in sunshine, rain, or schnow,
All over in der Welt, dear, I'll vander on vith thee,
I do not care how rough de road or dark de path may be!
''Or in de bloomin' meadows, vhere de grass is soft and sweet,
Or in de rocky passes, vhere de stones are under veet,
Or if I vear de shoes, love, vitch you hafe given me,
Or if I moost go barefoot, is all de same to me.'
'He drew away de gaiters. She said, 'As I'm rich
I vill fill dem both mit money, and take dem to de vitch.'
Ja wohl, she saw die Hexe, and takin' her aside,
She danked her for de lesson vot hat dook avay her pride.
'On de vay vhen dey vere married, how vere dey all erstaun
To see a lofely lady come in mit golden crown,
All in a rosy-silken dress vot shined as pright as glass,
Said, 'My dears, I am de vitch dot fetch dis ding to pass.
''You know I look so ogly vonce, und now am peautiful,
Dot ist de vay dot all dings vork ven folks pe dutiful.
Ash de lily toorns to vhitey vot once vas dirty green,
So all ist fair ven virdue ist runnin' de machine.''
Dis is de vondrous shtory vot de Ritter Breitmann told
Besides the rooshin' Danube of de schloss so grey und old,
Vhile a shmokin' of his meerschaum; und till all time pe gone
166
The rustlin' of de vasser tells de tale for ever on.
Dat is an alt legende, und yet 'tis efer new,
Und to efery von dot hears it it fits yoost like a shoe.
Und dis de shinin' moral dot in de oyster liesSome day you may roon after de dings you vonce despise!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
390:Life
NAY, lift me to thy lips, Life, and once more
Pour the wild music through me -I quivered in the reed-bed with my kind,
Rooted in Lethe-bank, when at the dawn
There came a groping shape of mystery
Moving among us, that with random stroke
Severed, and rapt me from my silent tribe,
Pierced, fashioned, lipped me, sounding for a voice,
Laughing on Lethe-bank -- and in my throat
I felt the wing-beat of the fledgeling notes,
The bubble of godlike laughter in my throat.
Such little songs she sang,
Pursing her lips to fit the tiny pipe,
They trickled from me like a slender spring
That strings frail wood-growths on its crystal thread,
Nor dreams of glassing cities, bearing ships.
She sang, and bore me through the April world
Matching the birds, doubling the insect-hum
In the meadows, under the low-moving airs,
And breathings of the scarce-articulate air
When it makes mouths of grasses -- but when the sky
Burst into storm, and took great trees for pipes,
She thrust me in her breast, and warm beneath
Her cloudy vesture, on her terrible heart,
I shook, and heard the battle.
But more oft,
Those early days, we moved in charmed woods,
Where once, at dusk, she piped against a faun,
And one warm dawn a tree became a nymph
Listening; and trembled; and Life laughed and passed.
And once we came to a great stream that bore
The stars upon its bosom like a sea,
And ships like stars; so to the sea we came.
One wild pang through me; then refrained her hand,
And whispered: 'Hear -- ' and into my frail flanks,
Into my bursting veins, the whole sea poured
Its spaces and its thunder; and I feared.
31
We came to cities, and Life piped on me
Low calls to dreaming girls,
In counting-house windows, through the chink of gold,
Flung cries that fired the captive brain of youth,
And made the heavy merchant at his desk
Curse us for a cracked hurdy-gurdy; Life
Mimicked the hurdy-gurdy, and we passed.
We climbed the slopes of solitude, and there
Life met a god, who challenged her and said:
'Thy pipe against my lyre!' But 'Wait!' she laughed,
And in my live flank dug a finger-hole,
And wrung new music from it. Ah, the pain!
We climbed and climbed, and left the god behind.
We saw the earth spread vaster than the sea,
With infinite surge of mountains surfed with snow,
And a silence that was louder than the deep;
But on the utmost pinnacle Life again
Hid me, and I heard the terror in her hair.
Safe in new vales, I ached for the old pang,
And clamoured 'Play me against a god again!'
'Poor Marsyas-mortal -- he shall bleed thee yet,'
She breathed and kissed me, stilling the dim need.
But evermore it woke, and stabbed my flank
With yearnings for new music and new pain.
'Another note against another god!'
I clamoured; and she answered: 'Bide my time.
Of every heart-wound I will make a stop.
And drink thy life in music, pang by pang.
But first thou must yield the notes I stored in thee
At dawn beside the river. Take my lips.'
She kissed me like a lover, but I wept,
Remembering that high song against the god,
And the old songs slept in me, and I was dumb.
We came to cavernous foul places, blind
With harpy-wings, and sulphurous with the glare
Of sinful furnaces -- where hunger toiled,
32
And pleasure gathered in a starveling prey,
And death fed delicately on young bones.
'Now sing!' cried Life, and set her lips to me.
'Here are gods also. Wilt thou pipe for Dis?'
My cry was drowned beneath the furnace roar,
Choked by the sulphur-fumes; and beast-lipped gods
Laughed down on me, and mouthed the flutes of hell.
'Now sing!' said Life, reissuing to the stars;
And wrung a new note from my wounded side.
So came we to clear spaces, and the sea.
And now I felt its volume in my heart,
And my heart waxed with it, and Life played on me
The song of the Infinite. 'Now the stars,' she said.
Then from the utmost pinnacle again
She poured me on the wild sidereal stream,
And I grew with her great breathings, till we swept
The interstellar spaces like new worlds
Loosed from the fiery ruin of a star.
Cold, cold we rested on black peaks again,
Under black skies, under a groping wind,
And life, grown old, hugged me to a numb breast,
Pressing numb lips against me. Suddenly
A blade of silver severed the black peaks
From the black sky, and earth was born again,
Breathing and various, under a god's feet.
A god! A god! I felt the heart of Life
Leap under me, and my cold flanks shook again.
He bore no lyre, he rang no challenge out,
But Life warmed to him, warming me with her,
And as he neared I felt beneath her hands
The stab of a new wound that sucked my soul
Forth in a new song from my throbbing throat.
'His name -- his name?' I whispered, but she poured
The music faster, and I grew with it,
Became a part of it, while Life and I
33
Clung lip to lip, and I from her wrung song
As she from me, one song, one ecstasy,
In indistinguishable union blent,
Till she became the flute and I the player.
And lo! the song I played on her was more
Than any she had drawn from me; it held
The stars, the peaks, the cities, and the sea,
The faun's catch, the nymph's tremor, and the heart
Of dreaming girls, of toilers at the desk,
Apollo's challenge on the sunrise slope,
And the hiss of the night-gods mouthing flutes of hell -All, to the dawn-wind's whisper in the reeds,
When Life first came, a shape of mystery,
Moving among us, and with random stroke
Severed, and rapt me from my silent tribe.
All this I wrung from her in that deep hour,
While Love stood murmuring: 'Play the god, poor grass!'
Now, by that hour, I am a mate to thee
Forever, Life, however spent and clogged,
And tossed back useless to my native mud!
Yea, groping for new reeds to fashion thee
New instruments of anguish and delight,
Thy hand shall leap to me, thy broken reed,
Thine ear remember me, thy bosom thrill
With the old subjection, then when Love and I
Held thee, and fashioned thee, and made thee dance
Like a slave-girl to her pipers -- yea, thou yet
Shalt hear my call, and dropping all thy toys
Thou'lt lift me to thy lips, Life, and once more
Pour the wild music through me –
~ Edith Wharton,#NFDB
391:Showing How Mr. Hiram Twine
Vide licet. Dere vas a fillage whose vote alone vouldt pe
Apout enof to elegdt a man und give a mayority,
So de von who couldt 'scoop' dis seddlement vouldt
make a lucky hit,
But dough dey vere Deutschers, von und all, dey all
go von on Schmit.
Now id hoppinet to gome to bass, dat in dis little town,
De Deutsch vas all exshpegdin' dat Mishder Schmit coom down,
His brinciples to foresetzen und his idees to deach(Id est, fix oop de brifate pargains) - und telifer a
pooplic shbeech.
Now Twine vas a gyrotwistive cuss ash blainly ish peen shown,
Und vas always an out-findin' votefer might pe known,
Und mit some of his circumswindles he fix de matter so,
Dat he'd pe himself at dis meeding, und see how dings vas go.
Oh shdrangely in dis leben de dings kits vorked apout,
Oh voonderly Fortuna makes doorn us inside out.
Oh sinkular de loock-vheel rolls - dis liddle meeding dere,
Fixt Twine ad perpendiculum: - shoosh suit him to a hair.
Now it hopponet on dis efenin', de Deutschers von und all,
Vere erwaitin' mit oonpatience de onfang of de Ball,
Und de shates of nighdt vere fallin' und de shdars pegin to plink,
Und dey vish dat Schmit vouldt hoory, for 'twas dime
to dake a trink.
Dey hear some hoofs a dramplin' - und dey saw und
dinked dey know'd,
De bretty greature coomin' on his horse entlang de road,
Und ash he ride town invard de likeness vas so blain,
Dey donnered out 'Hoora for Schmit!' enof to make it rain.
Der Twine vas shdart like plazes - boot oop shdardet too his vit,
Und he dinks, 'Great turnips! - vhot if I couldt bass
for Colonel Schmit!
Gaul darn my heels I'll do it - and go the total swine,
149
Oh soap balls! - what a chance!' said dis dissembulatin' Twine.
Denn'twas 'Willkomm! willkomm! Mishder Schmit!'
rings aroom on efery site,
Und 'First-rate - how dy do, yourself?' der Hiram Twine replied,
Dey ashk him 'Coom und dake a trink' - boot dey
find id mighdy gueer,
Vhen Twine informed em none boot hogs vould
trink dat shtinkin' bier.
Dat lager vas nodings boot boison, und as for Sharman wein,
He dinks it vas erfounden exbressly for Sharman schwein,
Dat he himself was a demperanceler, dat he gloria in de name,
Und adfised dem all for tecence's sake to go und do de same.
Dese bemarks, among de Deutschers, vere apout as vell receife,
Ash cats in a game of den-pins - ash you may of coorse peliefe,
De heats of de recebtion vent down a dootzen degrees,
Und in blace of hurraws was only heardt de roostlin' of de drees.
Und so in solemn stille dey scorched him to de hall,
Vhere he maket de crate oradion vhitch vas so moosh
to blease dem all,
Und dis vay he pegin it: 'Pefore I furder go,
I vish dat my obinions, you puddin-het Dutch, shouldt know.
'Und eher I norate furder, I dink it only fair,
Ve shouldt oonderstand each oder, prezackly, chunk and square;
Dere are points on vitch ve tisagree, und I will plank de factsI tont go round slanganderin' my friendts pehind deir packs.
'So I beg you dake it easy, if on de raw I touch,
Vhen I say I can't apide de sound of your groonting
shishing Dootch,
Should I in de Legisladure as your slumgullion stand,
I'll have a bill forbidding Dutch, droo all dis 'versal land.
'Should a husband talk it to his frau, to deat' he should pe led,
If a mutter breat' it to her shild, I'd bunch her in de head;
Und I'm sure dat none vill atvocate id's use in pooplic schools,
Oonless dey're peastly, nashdy, prutal, saur-kraut eadin' fools.'
150
Here Mishder Twine, to gadder breat', shoost make a liddle pause,
Und see sechs hundert gapin' eyes - sechs hundert shdaring' chaws!
Dey shtanden erstarrt like frozen - von faindly dried to hiss:Und von saidt: 'Ish id shleeps I'm treamin' Gottstausend! - vhot ish dis?
Twine keptet von eye on de vindow, - boot boldly vent ahet,
'Of your oder shtinkin' hobits no vordt needt here pe set;
Shdop goozlin' bier - shdop shmokin' bipes - shdop rootin'
in de mire,
Und shoost un-Dutchify yourselfs! - dat's all dat I require.'
Und denn dere coomed a shindy ash if de shky hat trop:
'Trow him mit ecks, py doonder! - go - shlog him on de kop!
Hei! shoot him mit a powie-knifes! - go for him, ganz and gar!
Shoost tar him mit some fedders! - led's fedder him mit tar!'
Sooch a teufel's row of furie vas nefer oopkicket pefore,Some roosh to on-climb de blatform, - some hoory
to festen de toor,Von veller vired his refolfer - boot de pullet missed her mark,
She coot de cort of de shandelier - it vell - und de hall vas tark!
Oh vell vas it for Hiram Twine dat nimply he couldt shoomp!
Und vell dat he light on a mist-hauf und nefer feel de boomp!
Und vell for him dat his coot cray horse shtood sottelet
shoost outside!
Und vell dat in an augenblick he vas off on a teufel's ride!
Bang! bang! de sharp pistolen shots vent pipin' py his ear,
Boot he tortled oop de barrick road like any moundain deer,
Dey trowed der Hiram Twine mit shteins - boot dey
only could be-mark
Von climpse of his vhite ober-coat - und a clotterin'
droo de dark.
So dey gesempeled togeder, ein ander to sprechen mit,
Und allow dat soosh a Rede dey nefer exshpegt from Schmit!
Dat he vas a foorst-glass plackguard, und so pig a lump ash ran,
So - nemine contradicente - dey vented for Breitemann.
Und 'twas annerthalb yar dere after before de Schmit vas know,
151
Vhat maket dis rural fillage go pack oopon him so,
Und he schwored at de Dutch more schlimmer ash
Hiram Twine had done,Note bene: he tid it in earnest, while der Hiram's vas
pusiness-fun.
Boot vhen Breitmann heardt de shtory how de fillage
hat been dricked,
He schwore bei Leib und Leben, dat he'd rader hafe peen licked,
Dan be helpet droo sooch slumgoozlin', - und 'twas
petter to pe a schwein,
Dan a schvindlin', honeyfooglin' shnake, like dat lyin'
Yankee Twine.
Und pegot so heavy disgootet mit de boledics of dis land,
Dat his friendts could barely keep him from trowin' oop his hand,
Vhen he held shtraight-flush mit an ace in his pootvitch phrase ish all de same,
In de science of pokerology, ash if he got de game.
So Breitmann cot elegdet, py vollowin' de vay,
Ve manage our elegdions oonto dis fery day.
Dis shows de Deutch Dummehrlichkeit - also de Yankee 'wit:'Das ist das abenteuer how Breitmann lick der Schmit.
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
392:Le Malade
'Apollon, dieu sauveur, dieu des savants mystères,
Dieu de la vie, et dieu des plantes salutaires,
Dieu vainqueur de Python, dieu jeune et triomphant,
Prends pitié de mon fils, de mon unique enfant!
Prends pitié de sa mère aux larmes condamnée,
Qui ne vit que pour lui, qui meurt abandonnée,
Qui n'a pas dû rester pour voir mourir son fils!
Dieu jeune, viens aider sa jeunesse. Assoupis,
Assoupis dans son sein cette fièvre brûlante
Qui dévore la fleur de sa vie innocente.
Apollon! si jamais, échappé du tombeau,
Il retourne au Ménale avoir soin du troupeau,
Ces mains, ces vieilles mains orneront ta statue
De ma coupe d'onyx à tes pieds suspendue;
Et, chaque été nouveau, d'un jeune taureau blanc
La hache à ton autel fera couler le sang.
Eh bien, mon fils, es-tu toujours impitoyable?
Ton funeste silence est-il inexorable?
Enfant, tu veux mourir? Tu veux, dans ses vieux ans,
Laisser ta mère seule avec ses cheveux blancs?
Tu veux que ce soit moi qui ferme ta paupière?
Que j'unisse ta cendre à celle de ton père?
C'est toi qui me devais ces soins religieux,
Et ma tombe attendait tes pleurs et tes adieux.
Parle, parle, mon fils! quel chagrin te consume?
Les maux qu'on dissimule en ont plus d'amertume.
Ne lèveras-tu point ces yeux appesantis?
--Ma mère, adieu; je meurs, et tu n'as plus de fils.
Non, tu n'as plus de fils, ma mère bien-aimée.
Je te perds. Une plaie ardente, envenimée,
Me ronge; avec effort je respire, et je crois
Chaque fois respirer pour la dernière fois.
Je ne parlerai pas. Adieu; ce lit me blesse,
Ce tapis qui me couvre accable ma faiblesse;
Tout me pèse et me lasse. Aide-moi, je me meurs.
Tourne-moi sur le flanc. Ah! j'expire! ô douleurs!
107
--Tiens, mon unique enfant, mon fils, prends ce breuvage;
Sa chaleur te rendra ta force et ton courage.
La mauve, le dictame ont, avec les pavots,
Mêlé leurs sucs puissants qui donnent le repos;
Sur le vase bouillant, attendrie à mes larmes,
Une Thessalienne a composé des charmes.
Ton corps débile a vu trois retours du soleil
Sans connaître Cérès, ni tes yeux le sommeil.
Prends, mon fils, laisse-toi fléchir à ma prière;
C'est ta mère, ta vieille inconsolable mère
Qui pleure, qui jadis te guidait pas à pas,
T'asseyait sur son sein, te portait dans ses bras,
Que tu disais aimer, qui t'apprit à le dire,
Qui chantait, et souvent te forçait à sourire
Lorsque tes jeunes dents, par de vives douleurs,
De tes yeux enfantins faisaient couler des pleurs.
Tiens, presse de ta lèvre, hélas! pâle et glacée,
Par qui cette mamelle était jadis pressée;
Que ce suc te nourrisse et vienne à ton secours,
Comme autrefois mon lait nourrit tes premiers jours!
--O coteaux d'Érymanthe! ô vallons! ô bocage!
O vent sonore et frais qui troublais le feuillage,
Et faisais frémir l'onde, et sur leur jeune sein
Agitais les replis de leur robe de lin!
De légères beautés troupe agile et dansante ...
Tu sais, tu sais, ma mère? aux bords de l'Érymanthe ...
Là, ni loups ravisseurs, ni serpents, ni poisons ...
O visage divin! ô fêtes! ô chansons!
Des pas entrelacés, des fleurs, une onde pure,
Aucun lieu n'est si beau dans toute la nature.
Dieux! ces bras et ces flancs, ces cheveux, ces pieds nus
Si blancs, si délicats!... Je ne te verrai plus!
Oh! portez, portez-moi sur les bords d'Érymanthe,
Que je la voie encor, cette vierge dansante!
Oh! que je voie au loin la fumée à longs flots
S'élever de ce toit au bord de cet enclos!
Assise à tes côtés, ses discours, sa tendresse,
Sa voix, trop heureux père! enchante ta vieillesse,
Dieux! par-dessus la haie élevée en remparts,
Je la vois, à pas lents, en longs cheveux épars,
Seule, sur un tombeau, pensive, inanimée,
108
S'arrêter et pleurer sa mère bien-aimée.
Oh! que tes yeux sont doux! que ton visage est beau!
Viendras-tu point aussi pleurer sur mon tombeau?
Viendras-tu point aussi, la plus belle des belles,
Dire sur mon tombeau: Les Parques sont cruelles!
--Ah! mon fils, c'est l'amour, c'est l'amour insensé
Qui t'a jusqu'à ce point cruellement blessé?
Ah! mon malheureux fils! Oui, faibles que nous sommes,
C'est toujours cet amour qui tourmente les hommes.
S'ils pleurent en secret, qui lira dans leur coeur
Verra que c'est toujours cet amour en fureur.
Mais, mon fils, mais dis-moi, quelle belle dansante,
Quelle vierge as-tu vue au bord de l'Érymanthe?
N'es-tu pas riche et beau? du moins quand la douleur
N'avait point de ta joue éteint la jeune fleur!
Parle. Est-ce cette Eglé, fille du roi des ondes,
Ou cette jeune Irène aux longues tresses blondes?
Ou ne sera-ce point cette fière beauté
Dont j'entends le beau nom chaque jour répété,
Dont j'apprends que partout les belles sont jalouses?
Qu'aux temples, aux festins, les mères, les épouses,
Ne sauraient voir, dit-on, sans peine et sans effroi?
Cette belle Daphné?....--Dieux! ma mère, tais-toi,
Tais-toi. Dieux! qu'as-tu dit? Elle est fière, inflexible;
Comme les immortels, elle est belle et terrible!
Mille amants l'ont aimée; ils l'ont aimée en vain.
Comme eux j'aurais trouvé quelque refus hautain.
Non, garde que jamais elle soit informée...
Mais, ô mort! ô tourment! ô mère bien-aimée!
Tu vois dans quels ennuis dépérissent mes jours.
Ma mère bien-aimée, ah! viens à mon secours.
Je meurs; va la trouver: que tes traits, que ton âge,
De sa mère à ses yeux offrent la sainte image.
Tiens, prends cette corbeille et nos fruits les plus beaux,
Prends notre Amour d'ivoire, honneur de ces hameaux;
Prends la coupe d'onyx à Corinthe ravie;
Prends mes jeunes chevreaux, prends mon coeur, prends ma vie;
Jette tout à ses pieds; apprends-lui qui je suis;
Dis-lui que je me meurs, que tu n'as plus de fils.
Tombe aux pieds du vieillard, gémis, implore, presse;
Adjure cieux et mers, dieu, temple, autel, déesse.
109
Pars; et si tu reviens sans les avoir fléchis,
Adieu, ma mère, adieu, tu n'auras plus de fils.
--J'aurai toujours un fils, va, la belle espérance
Me dit...' Elle s'incline, et, dans un doux silence,
Elle couvre ce front, terni par les douleurs,
De baisers maternels entremêlés de pleurs.
Puis elle sort en hâte, inquiète et tremblante;
Sa démarche est de crainte et d'âge chancelante.
Elle arrive; et bientôt revenant sur ses pas,
Haletante, de loin: 'Mon cher fils, tu vivras,
Tu vivras.' Elle vient s'asseoir près de la couche,
Le vieillard la suivait, le sourire à la bouche,
La jeune belle aussi, rouge et le front baissé,
Vient, jette sur le lit un coup d'oeil. L'insensé
Tremble; sous ses tapis il veut cacher sa tête.
'Ami, depuis trois jours tu n'es d'aucune fête,
Dit-elle; que fais-tu? Pourquoi veux-tu mourir?
Tu souffres. On me dit que je peux te guérir;
Vis, et formons ensemble une seule famille:
Que mon père ait un fils, et ta mère une fille!'
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
393:Ami, Chez Nos Francois
Ami, chez nos Français ma muse voudrait plaire;
Mais j'ai fui la satire à leurs regards si chère.
Le superbe lecteur, toujours content de lui,
Et toujours plus content s'il peut rire d'autrui,
Veut qu'un nom imprévu, dont l'aspect le déride,
Égayé au bout du vers une rime perfide;
Il s'endort si quelqu'un ne pleure quand il rit.
Mais qu'Horace et sa troupe irascible d'esprit
Daignent me pardonner, si jamais ils pardonnent:
J'estime peu cet art, ces leçons qu'ils nous donnent
D'immoler bien un sot qui jure en son chagrin,
Au rire âcre et perçant d'un caprice malin.
Le malheureux déjà me semble assez à plaindre
D'avoir, même avant lui, vu sa gloire s'éteindre
Et son livre au tombeau lui montrer le chemin,
Sans aller, sous la terre au trop fertile sein,
Semant sa renommée et ses tristes merveilles,
Faire à tous les roseaux chanter quelles oreilles
Sur sa tête ont dressé leurs sommets et leurs poids.
Autres sont mes plaisirs. Soit, comme je le crois,
Que d'une débonnaire et généreuse argile
On ait pétri mon âme innocente et facile;
Soit, comme ici, d'un oeil caustique et médisant,
En secouant le front, dira quelque plaisant,
Que le ciel, moins propice, enviât à ma plume
D'un sel ingénieux la piquante amertume,
J'en profite à ma gloire, et je viens devant toi
Mépriser les raisins qui sont trop hauts pour moi.
Aux reproches sanglants d'un vers noble et sévère
Ce pays toutefois offre une ample matière:
Soldats tyrans du peuple obscur et gémissant,
Et juges endormis aux cris de l'innocent;
Ministres oppresseurs, dont la main détestable
Plonge au fond des cachots la vertu redoutable.
Mais, loin qu'ils aient senti la fureur de nos vers,
Nos vers rampent en foule aux pieds de ces pervers,
Qui savent bien payer d'un mépris légitime
Le lâche qui pour eux feint d'avoir quelque estime.
24
Certe, un courage ardent qui s'armerait contre eux
Serait utile au moins s'il était dangereux;
Non d'aller, aiguisant une vaine satire,
Chercher sur quel poète on a droit de médire;
Si tel livre deux fois ne s'est pas imprimé,
Si tel est mal écrit, tel autre mal rimé.
Ainsi donc, sans coûter de larmes à personne,
A mes goûts innocents, ami, je m'abandonne.
Mes regards vont errant sur mille et mille objets.
Sans renoncer aux vieux, plein de nouveaux projets,
Je les tiens; dans mon camp partout je les rassemble,
Les enrôle, les suis, les pousse tous ensemble.
S'égarant à son gré, mon ciseau vagabond
Achève à ce poème ou les pieds ou le front,
Creuse à l'autre les flancs, puis l'abandonne et vole
Travailler à cet autre ou la jambe ou l'épaule.
Tous, boiteux, suspendus, traînent; mais je les vois
Tous bientôt sur leurs pieds se tenir à la fois.
Ensemble lentement tous couvés sous mes ailes,
Tous ensemble quittant leurs coques maternelles,
Sauront d'un beau plumage ensemble se couvrir,
Ensemble sous le bois voltiger et courir.
Peut-être il vaudrait mieux, plus constant et plus sage,
Commencer, travailler, finir un seul ouvrage.
Mais quoi! cette constance est un pénible ennui.
'Eh bien! nous lirez-vous quelque chose aujourd'hui?
Me dit un curieux qui s'est toujours fait gloire
D'honorer les neuf Soeurs, et toujours, après boire,
Étendu dans sa chaise et se chauffant les piés,
Aime à dormir au bruit des vers psalmodiés.
--Qui, moi? Non, je n'ai rien. D'ailleurs je ne lis guère.
--Certe, un tel nous lut hier une épître!... et son frère
Termina par une ode où j'ai trouvé des traits!...
--Ces messieurs plus féconds, dis-je, sont toujours prêts.
Mais moi, que le caprice et le hasard inspire,
Je n'ai jamais sur moi rien qu'on puisse vous lire.
--Bon! bon! Et cet HERMÈS, dont vous ne parlez pas,
Que devient-il?--Il marche, il arrive à grands pas.
--Oh! je m'en fie à vous.--Hélas! trop, je vous jure.
--Combien de chants de faits?--Pas un, je vous assure.
--Comment?--Vous avez vu sous la main d'un fondeur
25
Ensemble se former, diverses en grandeur,
Trente cloches d'airain, rivales du tonnerre?
Il achève leur moule enseveli sous terre;
Puis, par un long canal en rameaux divisé,
Y fait couler les flots de l'airain embrasé;
Si bien qu'au même instant, cloches, petite et grande,
Sont prêtes, et chacune attend et ne demande
Qu'à sonner quelque mort, et du haut d'une tour
Réveiller la paroisse à la pointe du jour.
Moi, je suis ce fondeur: de mes écrits en foule
Je prépare longtemps et la forme et le moule;
Puis, sur tous à la fois je fais couler l'airain:
Rien n'est fait aujourd'hui, tout sera fait demain.'
Ami, Phoebus ainsi me verse ses largesses.
Souvent des vieux auteurs j'envahis les richesses.
Plus souvent leurs écrits, aiguillons généreux,
M'embrasent de leur flamme, et je crée avec eux.
Un juge sourcilleux, épiant mes ouvrages,
Tout à coup à grands cris dénonce vingt passages
Traduits de tel auteur qu'il nomme; et, les trouvant,
Il s'admire et se plaît de se voir si savant.
Que ne vient-il vers moi? je lui ferai connaître
Mille de mes larcins qu'il ignore peut-être.
Mon doigt sur mon manteau lui dévoile à l'instant
La couture invisible et qui va serpentant
Pour joindre à mon étoffe une pourpre étrangère.
Je lui montrerai l'art, ignoré du vulgaire,
De séparer aux yeux, en suivant leur lien,
Tous ces métaux unis dont j'ai formé le mien.
Tout ce que des Anglais la muse inculte et brave,
Tout ce que des Toscans la voix fière et suave,
Tout ce que les Romains, ces rois de l'univers,
M'offraient d'or et de soie, est passé dans mes vers.
Je m'abreuve surtout des flots que le Permesse
Plus féconds et plus purs fit couler dans la Grèce;
Là, Prométhée ardent, je dérobe les feux
Dont j'anime l'argile et dont je fais des dieux.
Tantôt chez un auteur j'adopte une pensée,
Mais qui revêt, chez moi, souvent entrelacée,
Mes images, mes tours, jeune et frais ornement;
Tantôt je ne retiens que les mots seulement:
26
J'en détourne le sens, et l'art sait les contraindre
Vers des objets nouveaux qu'ils s'étonnent de peindre.
La prose plus souvent vient subir d'autres lois,
Et se transforme, et fuît mes poétiques doigts;
De rimes couronnée, et légère et dansante,
En nombres mesurés elle s'agite et chante.
Des antiques vergers ces rameaux empruntés
Croissent sur mon terrain mollement transplantés;
Aux troncs de mon verger ma main avec adresse
Les attache, et bientôt même écorce les presse.
De ce mélange heureux l'insensible douceur
Donne à mes fruits nouveaux une antique saveur.
Dévot adorateur de ces maîtres antiques,
Je veux m'envelopper de leurs saintes reliques.
Dans leur triomphe admis, je veux le partager,
Ou bien de ma défense eux-mêmes les charger.
Le critique imprudent, qui se croit bien habile,
Donnera sur ma joue un soufflet à Virgile.
Et ceci (tu peux voir si j'observe ma loi),
Montaigne, il t'en souvient, l'avait dit avant moi.
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
394:Moesta Et Errabunda (Grieving And Wandering)
Dis-moi ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe,
Loin du noir océan de l'immonde cité
Vers un autre océan où la splendeur éclate,
Bleu, clair, profond, ainsi que la virginité?
Dis-moi, ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe?
La mer la vaste mer, console nos labeurs!
Quel démon a doté la mer, rauque chanteuse
Qu'accompagne l'immense orgue des vents grondeurs,
De cette fonction sublime de berceuse?
La mer, la vaste mer, console nos labeurs!
Emporte-moi wagon! enlève-moi, frégate!
Loin! loin! ici la boue est faite de nos pleurs!
— Est-il vrai que parfois le triste coeur d'Agathe
Dise: Loin des remords, des crimes, des douleurs,
Emporte-moi, wagon, enlève-moi, frégate?
Comme vous êtes loin, paradis parfumé,
Où sous un clair azur tout n'est qu'amour et joie,
Où tout ce que l'on aime est digne d'être aimé,
Où dans la volupté pure le coeur se noie!
Comme vous êtes loin, paradis parfumé!
Mais le vert paradis des amours enfantines,
Les courses, les chansons, les baisers, les bouquets,
Les violons vibrant derrière les collines,
Avec les brocs de vin, le soir, dans les bosquets,
— Mais le vert paradis des amours enfantines,
L'innocent paradis, plein de plaisirs furtifs,
Est-il déjà plus loin que l'Inde et que la Chine?
Peut-on le rappeler avec des cris plaintifs,
Et l'animer encor d'une voix argentine,
L'innocent paradis plein de plaisirs furtifs?
Grieving and Wandering
Tell me, does your heart sometimes fly away, Agatha,
381
Far from the black ocean of the filthy city,
Toward another ocean where splendor glitters,
Blue, clear, profound, as is virginity?
Tell me, does your heart sometimes fly away, Agatha?
The sea, the boundless sea, consoles us for our toil!
What demon endowed the sea, that raucous singer,
Whose accompanist is the roaring wind,
With the sublime function of cradle-rocker?
The sea, the boundless sea, consoles us for our toil!
Take me away, carriage! Carry me off, frigate!
Far, far away! Here the mud is made with our tears!
— Is it true that sometimes the sad heart of Agatha
Says: Far from crimes, from remorse, from sorrow,
Take me away, carriage, carry me off, frigate?
How far away you are, O perfumed Paradise,
Where under clear blue sky there's only love and joy,
Where all that one loves is worthy of love,
Where the heart is drowned in sheer enjoyment!
How far away you are, O perfumed Paradise!
But the green Paradise of childhood loves
The outings, the singing, the kisses, the bouquets,
The violins vibrating behind the hills,
And the evenings in the woods, with jugs of wine
— But the green Paradise of childhood loves,
That sinless Paradise, full of furtive pleasures,
Is it farther off now than India and China?
Can one call it back with plaintive cries,
And animate it still with a silvery voice,
That sinless Paradise full of furtive pleasures?
— Translated by William Aggeler
Moesta et Errabunda
Agatha, does your heart rise up and fly,
Far from the city's black and sordid sea
382
Towards a sea that's blue as any sky,
And clear and deep as pure virginity?
Agatha, does your heart rise up and fly?
The sea, the mighty sea, consoles our labour.
What demon taught the sea with raucous verse
To choir the organ which the winds belabour
And lullaby our sorrows like a nurse?
The sea, the mighty sea, consoles our labour.
Train, bear me; take me, ship, to other climes!
Far, far! For here the mud is made of tears.
— Does Agatha's sad heart not say, at times,
'Far from remorses, sorrows, crimes, and fears,
Train, bear me; take me, ship, to other climes'?
How distant is that perfumed paradise!
Where all is joy and love with azure crowned,
Where all one loves is truly worth the price,
And hearts in pure voluptuousness are drowned.
How distant is that perfumed paradise!
But the green paradise of childish love,
Of races, songs, and kisses, and bouquets,
Of fiddles shrilling in the hills above,
And jars of wine, and woods, and dying rays —
But the green paradise of childish love,
innocent paradise of furtive joys,
Is it far off as India or Hong Kong?
Could it be conjured by a plaintive voice
Or animated by a silver song —
That far off paradise of furtive joys?
— Translated by Roy Campbell
Moesta Et Errabunda
Agatha, tell me, thy heart — does it sometimes fly away,
Far from the vast dark ocean of the mournful town,
Toward one still vaster, mirroring the blue, blue day,
383
Mindless and deep: a flood wherein all sorrows drown?
Agatha, tell me, thy heart — does it sometimes fly away?
The sea, the enormous sea has rest for our desires:
By what demoniac irony can that fierce thing,
That raucous howler to the winds' untuneful choirs,
Assuage our deepest woe with its wild clarnouring?
The sea, the enormous sea has rest for our desires.
Carry me off, loud trains! Abstract me, silent ships,
Far, far! Here even the earth is miry with our tears!
Is it not true that sometimes Agatha's sweet lips
Murmur: 'Far from regrets, from griefs, from cruel fears,
Carry me off, loud trains! Abstract me, silent ships!'
How far, how far away, that paradise above,
Wbere all our ills supposedly are put to rest,
Where everything we love is worthy of our love,
And the unburdened heart lies weightless in the breast
How far, how far away, that paradise above!
But the green, earthly paradise of childhood, even,
The songs, the furtive kisses, the dances, the bouquets,
The picnics on the hillside — that unpretentious heaven
Of summer twilights where a distant music plays:
But the green, earthly paradise of childhood, even,
Where all our cares are mended in small secret joys —
Is it already farther than Shanghai or Ceylon?
Or has the heart some kingdom no suffering destroys,
Where those young voices laugh, where those old tunes play on
Where all our cares are mended in small secret joys?
— Translated by George Dillon
Moesta et errabunda
say, Agatha, dost thou in dreams delight
— far, far from Paris, black and miry sea —
to rove where other oceans burst in light,
blue, deep, and crystal-clear as chastity?
384
say, Agatha, dost thou in dreams delight?
the vast, vast ocean is our comforter!
what demon gave the hoarse resounding sea
— and the gruff winds' great organ made for her —
that siren voice to soothe our misery?
the vast, vast ocean is our comforter!
bear me away, swift car and frigate smart!
afar! — afar! this mire is made of tears!
— Agatha, truly does thy mournful heart
cry out: afar from sin, remorse and fears,
bear me away, swift car and frigate smart!
how far from us that fragrant Eden lies,
where all is azure clear and love and joy,
where all we loved was worthy in love's eyes,
where hearts were drowned in bliss without alloy!
how far from us that fragrant Eden lies!
but the green Eden of our earliest loves
— songs, roses, races, with a kiss to win,
the jugs of wine at dusk in shadowy groves
where died, afar, a quivering violin,
— but the green Eden of our earliest loves,
our Eden of pure tremulous joy and bliss
— is it now farther than the Asian shore?
can tears or cries recall each magic kiss,
or prayers or silvery words some eve restore
our Eden of pure tremulous joy and bliss?
— Translated by Lewis Piaget Shanks
~ Charles Baudelaire,#NFDB
395:Hans Breitmann’s Christmas
ID vas on Weihnachtsabend - Vot Ghristmas Efe dey callDer Breitmann mit his Breitmen tid rent de Musik Hall;
Ash de Breitmen und die vomen who vere in de Liederkranz
Vouldt blend deir souls in harmonie to have a bleasin tantz.
Dey reefed de Hall 'mid pushes so nople to pe seen,
Aroundt Beethoven's buster dey dey on-did a garlandt creen:
De laties vork like teufels dwo tays to scroob de vloor
Und hanged a crate serenity mit WILLKOMM! oop de toor!
Und vhile dere vas a Schwein-blatt whose redakteur tid say,
Die Breitmann he vas liederlich: ve ant-worded dis-a way,
Ve maked anoder serenity mid ledders plue und red:
'Our Leader lick de repels! N.G.' (enof gesaid.)
Und anoder serene dransbarency ve make de veller baint,
Boot de vay he potch und vertyfeled id, vas enof to shvear a saint,
For ve vanted LA GERMANIA; - boot der ardist mit a bloonder,
Vent und vlorished LAGER agross id - und denn poot MANIA oonder!
'Now ve moost pe guest-friendlich,' said Breitmann, said he;
'Und shoot te toor vide oben, for beople all to see.
Four elemends indernally unided make a punsch;
Boot id dakes a tausend fellers vhen you gifes dem freie lunsch.'
Und as Ghristmas Efe vas gekommen, de beoplesh weren im Hall;
I shvears you id vas Gott-full - dat shplendit, peglory'd ball;
Ve hat foon wie der Teufel in Frankreich - ve coot oop
like der teufel in France,
Und valk pair-wise in, vhile de musik blayed loudt de Fackel-Tanz.
Boot vhen de valtz shtrike oopwart ve most went out of fits,
Ash der Breitmann led off on a dwister mit de lofely
Helmine Schmitz.
He valtz yoost like he vas shtandin' shtill mit a
peaudiful solemn shmile,
Und Helmine say he nefer shtop poussiren alla weil.
'Es toent, es rauschet Saitenklang - I hear de musik call
125
Den herzenhellen Saal entlang - all droo de gleamin' Hall.
O moecht ich schweben stolz und froh - O mighdt I efer pe
Mit dir durchs ganze Leben so! - mine Lebanlang py dee!'
Und vaster blay de musik de Wellen und Wogen von Strauss;
Und soom drop indo de tantzen, und soom of dem drop aus;
Und soon like a shtorm in de Meere I veel de reelin' vloor,
So de shpinners shtop mit de shpinsters, for dey couldn't
shpin no more.
Now weren ve all frolic, und lauter guter ding,
Und dirsty ash a broosh-pinder - vhen ve hear some glasses ring;
Foors mild und sonft in de distants - like de song of
a nightingall,
Denn a ringin' und rottlin und clotterin' - ash de Gluck
of Edenhall?
Hei!
Hei!
Like
Like
how ve roosh on de liquor! - hei: how de kellners coom:
how ve busted de bier-kegs und poonished de Punsch a la Rhum.
lonely wafes at mitternight oopon some shiant shorean awful shtorm in de Waelder - vas de dirsty Deutschers' roar!
I pyed some carts for a dime abiece - I pyed shoost fifdy-dwo,
Dey vere goot for bier, or schnapps, or wein - by
doonder how dey flew!
I ring de deck on de vaiters for liquor hot und cool,
Und efery dime I blays a cart, py shings, I rake de pool!
Und ash ve trinked so comforble, like boogs in any roog,
De trompets blowed tan da ra dei, und dere come in a Maskenzug,
A peaudiful brocession, soul-raisin' and sooplime,
De marmorbilds of de heroes of de early Sharman dime.
Dere vent der gros Arminius, mit his frau Thusnelda, doo,
De vellers ash lam de Romans dill dey roon mit noses plue;
Denn vollowed Quinctilius Varus who carry a Roman yoke,
Und arm in arm mit Gambrinus coom der Allemane Chroc.
Der Alte Friedrich Rothbart, und Kaiser Karl der crate,
Mit Roland und Uliverus vent shveepin' on in shtate;
Und Conradin, whose sad-full deat' shtill makes our heartsen pleed,
Und all ov dem oldt vellers aus dem Nibelungen Lied.
126
Und as dey mofed on, der Breitmann maked a tyfeled shplendid witz
In anti-word to dis quesdion from de lofely Mina Schmitz:
'Vhy ish id dey always makes in shtone dem vellers so andiquadet?'
'Vhy - dey set in de laps of Ages dill dey got lapi-dated!'
Und shoost as de last of dis hisdory hat fanished droo de door,
Ve heardt a ge-screech, and Pelz Nickel coom howlin' on de vloor;
Denn de laties yell like der teufel, und vly like gulls mit wings,
Und der Pelz Nickel lick em mit svitches, und ve
laugh like eferydings.
I nefer hafe sooch laughen before dat I vas geborn;
Und Pelz Nickel, vhen 'tvas ober, he plow on a yaeger horn,
Und denounce do all de beople gesembled in de hall:
'Dat a Ghristmas dree vas vaiten', mit bresents for oos all!'
So ve vollowed him into de zimmer so quick ash dese vords he said,
To kit dem peaudiful bresents, all gratis und on de dead;
Und in facdt a shplendid Weihnachtsbaum mit lighds ve druly vound,
Und liddel kifts dat ge-kostet a benny abiece all round!
Dere vas Rike Strange die Dessauerinn - a maedchen
shtraigdt und tall,
She cot a bicture of Cubid - boot she tidn't see it ad all,
Dill der Breitmann say, mit his shplendid shtyle dat
all de laties dake:
'Dat pend of de bow ish de Crecian pend dat you so ofden make!'
Anoder scharmante laity, Maria Top, did cot,
A schwingin' mit a ribbon, a liddle benny pot;
Boot Breitmann hafe id de roughest of any oder mans,
For he kit a yellow gratle mit a liddle vooden Hans.
Denn next Beethoven's Sinfonie, die orkester tid blay;
Adagio - allegro - andante cantabile.
Ve sat in shtill commotion so dat a bin mighdt drops,
Und de deers roon town der Breitmann's sheeks,
mitwhiles he was trinkin' schnapps.
Next dings ve had de Weinnachtstraum ge-sung by de Liederkranz,
Denn I trinked dwelf schoppens of glee-wine to sed
127
me oop for a tantz;
Dis dimes I tanz wie der Teufel - we shriek de volk on de vloor;
Und boost right indo de sooper room - vor ve tanzt a
hole droo de door!
Denn 'twas rowdy tow und hop-sassa, ve hollered,
Mann und Weib;
'Rip Sam und sed her oop acain! - ve're all of de Shackdaw tribe!'
Vhen Pelz Nickel plow his tromp vonce more, und
peg oos to shtop our din,
Und droo de oben door dere coomed nine den-pins marchin' in.
Nine vellers tressed like den-pins - dey goed to de end' der hall.
Und dwo Hans Wurst, shack-puddin' glowns - dey
rolled at em mit a ball.
De balls vas paintet peaudiful; dey was vifdeen feet aroundt;
Und de rule ov de came: 'whoefer cot hidt, moost
doomple on de croundt.'
Sometimes dey hit de den-pins - sometimes de oder volkUnd pooty soon de gompany vas all laid out in shoke;
Boot I dells you vot, it maked oos laugh dill we by-nearly shplits,
Vhen der Breitmann he roll ofer, und drip oop de Mina Schmitz.
Dis lets itself in Sharman pe foost-rade word-blayed on,
Und 'mongst oos be-gifted vellers you pet dat id vas tone!
How der Breitmann mighdt drafel ash bride-man on
de roadt dat ish breit und krumm:
Here de drumpets soundt, and pair-wise ve goed for de sooper-room.
Ve goed for ge-roasted Welsh-hens, ve goed for ge-spickter hare,
Ve goed for kartoffel salade mit butter brod,-kaviar:
Ve roosh at de lordtly sauer-kraut und de wurst which lofely shine,
Und oh, mein Gott im Kimmel! how we goed for de Mosel-wein!
Und troonker more, und troonker yet, und troonker shtill cot ve,
In rosy lighdt shtill drivin on agross a fairy sea;
Denn madder, vilder, frantic-er, I proked a salat dish!
Und shoost like roarin' elefants ve tantzed aroundt de tish.
I'fe shvimmed in heafenly droonks pefore - boot nefer von like dis;
De morgen-het-ache only seemt a bortion of de pliss.
128
De vhile in trilling peauty roundt like heafenly vind-harps rang
A goosh of goldnen melodie - de Rheinweinbechers' Klang.
De meltin' minnesingers' song - a droonk of honey'd rhymeDe b'wildrin-dipsy Bardic shants of Teutoburgic dime;
Back to de runic dim Valhall und Balder's foamin' mead:Here ents in heller glorie schein des Breitmann's Weihnachtslied!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
396:A Ballad Of Boding
There are sleeping dreams and waking dreams;
What seems is not always as it seems.
I looked out of my window in the sweet new morning,
And there I saw three barges of manifold adorning
Went sailing toward the East:
The first had sails like fire,
The next like glittering wire,
But sackcloth were the sails of the least;
And all the crews made music, and two had spread a feast.
The first choir breathed in flutes,
And fingered soft guitars;
The second won from lutes
Harmonious chords and jars,
With drums for stormy bars:
But the third was all of harpers and scarlet trumpeters;
Notes of triumph, then
An alarm again,
As for onset, as for victory, rallies, stirs,
Peace at last and glory to the vanquishers.
The first barge showed for figurehead a Love with wings;
The second showed for figurehead a Worm with stings;
The third, a Lily tangled to a Rose which clings.
The first bore for freight gold and spice and down;
The second bore a sword, a sceptre, and a crown;
The third, a heap of earth gone to dust and brown.
Winged Love meseemed like Folly in the face;
Stinged Worm meseemed loathly in his place;
Lily and Rose were flowers of grace.
Merry went the revel of the fire-sailed crew,
Singing, feasting, dancing to and fro:
Pleasures ever changing, ever graceful, ever new;
Sighs, but scarce of woe;
All the sighing
Wooed such sweet replying;
All the sighing, sweet and low,
Used to come and go
For more pleasure, merely so.
Yet at intervals some one grew tired
Of everything desired,
And sank, I knew not whither, in sorry plight,
Out of sight.
The second crew seemed ever
Wider-visioned, graver,
More distinct of purpose, more sustained of will;
With heads erect and proud,
And voices sometimes loud;
With endless tacking, counter-tacking,
All things grasping, all things lacking,
It would seem;
Ever shifting helm, or sail, or shroud,
Drifting on as in a dream.
Hoarding to their utmost bent,
Feasting to their fill,
Yet gnawed by discontent,
Envy, hatred, malice, on their road they went.
Their freight was not a treasure,
Their music not a pleasure;
The sword flashed, cleaving through their bands,
Sceptre and crown changed hands.
The third crew as they went
Seemed mostly different;
They toiled in rowing, for to them the wind was contrary,
As all the world might see.
They labored at the oar,
While on their heads they bore
The fiery stress of sunshine more and more.
They labored at the oar hand-sore,
Till rain went splashing,
And spray went dashing,
Down on them, and up on them, more and more.
Their sails were patched and rent,
Their masts were bent,
In peril of their lives they worked and went.
For them no feast was spread,
No soft luxurious bed
Scented and white,
No crown or sceptre hung in sight;
In weariness and painfulness,
In thirst and sore distress,
They rowed and steered from left to right
With all their might.
Their trumpeters and harpers round about
Incessantly played out,
And sometimes they made answer with a shout;
But oftener they groaned or wept,
And seldom paused to eat, and seldom slept.
I wept for pity watching them, but more
I wept heart-sore
Once and again to see
Some weary man plunge overboard, and swim
To Love or Worm ship floating buoyantly:
And there all welcomed him.
The ships steered each apart and seemed to scorn each other,
Yet all the crews were interchangeable;
Now one man, now another,
—Like bloodless spectres some, some flushed by health,—
Changed openly, or changed by stealth,
Scaling a slippery side, and scaled it well.
The most left Love ship, hauling wealth
Up Worm ship's side;
While some few hollow-eyed
Left either for the sack-sailed boat;
But this, though not remote,
Was worst to mount, and whoso left it once
Scarce ever came again,
But seemed to loathe his erst companions,
And wish and work them bane.
Then I knew (I know not how) there lurked quicksands full of dread,
Rocks and reefs and whirlpools in the water-bed,
Whence a waterspout
Instantaneously leaped out,
Roaring as it reared its head.
Soon I spied a something dim,
Many-handed, grim,
That went flitting to and fro the first and second ship;
It puffed their sails full out
With puffs of smoky breath
From a smouldering lip,
And cleared the waterspout
Which reeled roaring round about
Threatening death.
With a horny hand it steered,
And a horn appeared
On its sneering head upreared
Haughty and high
Against the blackening lowering sky.
With a hoof it swayed the waves;
They opened here and there,
Till I spied deep ocean graves
Full of skeletons
That were men and women once
Foul or fair;
Full of things that creep
And fester in the deep
And never breathe the clean life-nurturing air.
The third bark held aloof
From the Monster with the hoof,
Despite his urgent beck,
And fraught with guile
Abominable his smile;
Till I saw him take a flying leap on to that deck.
Then full of awe,
With these same eyes I saw
His head incredible retract its horn
Rounding like babe's new born,
While silvery phosphorescence played
About his dis-horned head.
The sneer smoothed from his lip,
He beamed blandly on the ship;
All winds sank to a moan,
All waves to a monotone
(For all these seemed his realm),
While he laid a strong caressing hand upon the helm.
Then a cry well nigh of despair
Shrieked to heaven, a clamor of desperate prayer.
The harpers harped no more,
While the trumpeters sounded sore
An alarm to wake the dead from their bed:
To the rescue, to the rescue, now or never,
To the rescue, O ye living, O ye dead,
Or no more help or hope for ever!—
The planks strained as though they must part asunder,
The masts bent as though they must dip under,
And the winds and the waves at length
Girt up their strength,
And the depths were laid bare,
And heaven flashed fire and volleyed thunder
Through the rain-choked air,
And sea and sky seemed to kiss
In the horror and the hiss
Of the whole world shuddering everywhere.
Lo! a Flyer swooping down
With wings to span the globe,
And splendor for his robe
And splendor for his crown.
He lighted on the helm with a foot of fire,
And spun the Monster overboard:
And that monstrous thing abhorred,
Gnashing with balked desire,
Wriggled like a worm infirm
Up the Worm
Of the loathly figurehead.
There he crouched and gnashed;
And his head re-horned, and gashed
From the other's grapple, dripped bloody red.
I saw that thing accurst
Wreak his worst
On the first and second crew:
Some with baited hook
He angled for and took,
Some dragged overboard in a net he threw,
Some he did to death
With hoof or horn or blasting breath.
10
I heard a voice of wailing
Where the ships went sailing,
A sorrowful voice prevailing
Above the sound of the sea,
Above the singers' voices,
And musical merry noises;
All songs had turned to sighing,
The light was failing,
The day was dying—
Ah me,
That such a sorrow should be!
There was sorrow on the sea and sorrow on the land
When Love ship went down by the bottomless quicksand
To its grave in the bitter wave.
There was sorrow on the sea and sorrow on the land
When Worm ship went to pieces on the rock-bound strand,
And the bitter wave was its grave.
But land and sea waxed hoary
In whiteness of a glory
Never told in story
Nor seen by mortal eye,
When the third ship crossed the bar
Where whirls and breakers are,
And steered into the splendors of the sky;
That third bark and that least
Which had never seemed to feast,
Yet kept high festival above sun and moon and star.
~ Christina Georgina Rossetti,#NFDB
397:Steinli Von Slang
I.
DER watchman look out from his tower
Ash de Abendgold glimmer grew dim,
Und saw on de road troo de Gauer
Ten shpearmen coom ridin to him:
Und he schvear: 'May I lose my next bitter,
Und denn mit der Teufel go hang!
If id isn't dat pully young Ritter,
De hell-drivin Steinli von Slang.
'De vorldt nefer had any such man,
He vights like a sturm in its wrath:
You may call me a recular Dutchman,
If he arn't like Goliath of Gath.
He ish big ash de shiant O'Brady,
More ash sefen feet high on a string,
Boot he can't vin de hearts of my lady,
De lofely Plectruda von Sling.'
De lady make welcome her gast in,
Ash he shtep to de dop of de shtair,
She look like an angel got lost in
A forest of audumn-prown hair.
Und a bower-maiden said ash she tarried:
'I wish I may bust mit a bang!
If id isn't a shame she ain't married
To der her-re-liche Steinli von Slang!'
He pows to de cround fore de lady,
Vhile his vace ish ash pale ash de tead;
Und she vhispers oonto him a rede
Ash mit arrow point accents, she said:
'You hafe long dimes peen dryin to win me,
You hafe vight, and mine braises you sing,
Boot I'm 'fraid dat de notion aint in me,
De Lady Plectruda von Sling.
'Boot brafehood teserves a reward, sir;
153
Dough you've hardly a chost of a shanse.
Sankt Werolf! medinks id ish hard, sir,
I should allaweil lead you dis dance.'
Like a bees vhen it it booz troo de clofer,
Dese murmurin accents she flang,
Vhile singin, a stingin her lofer,
Der woe-moody Ritter von Slang.
'Boot if von ding you do, I'll knock under,
Our droples moost endin damit
Und if you pull troo it,- by donder!
I'll own myself euchred, und bit.
I schvear py de holy Sanct Chlody!
Py mine honor-und avery ding!
You may hafe me-soul, puttons und pody,
Mit de whole of Plectruda von Sling.'
'Und dish ish de test of your power:Vhile ve shtand ourselfs round in a row,
You moost roll from de dop of dis tower,
Down shdairs to de valley pelow.
Id ish rough and shteep ash my virtue:'
(Mit schwanenshweet accents she sang
'Tont try if you dinks id vill hurt you,
Mine goot liddle Ritter von Slang.'
An Moormoor arosed mong de beoples;
In fain tid she doorn in her shkorn,
Der vatchman on dop of de shdeeples
Plowed a sorryfool doon on his horn.
Ash dey look down de dousand-foot treppe,
Dey schveared dey vouldt pass on de ding,
Und not roll down de firstest tam steppe
For a hoondred like Fraulein von Sling.
II.
'Twas audumn. De dry leafs vere bustlin
Und visperin deir elfin wild talk,
Vhen shlow, mit his veet in dem rustlin,
Herr Steinli coomed out for a walk.
Wild dooks vly afar in de gloamin,
154
He hear a vaint gry vrom de gang;
Und vished he vere off mit dem roamin:
De heart-wounded Ritter Von Slang.
Und ash he vent musin und shbeakin,
He se, shoost ahead in his vay,
In sinkular manner a streakin,
A strange liddle bein, in cray,
Who toorned on him quick mit a holler,
Und cuttin a dwo bigeon ving,
Cried, 'Say, can you change me a thaler,
Oh, guest of de Lady von Sling?'
De knight vas a goot-nadured veller,
(De peggars all knowed him at sight,)
So he forked out each groschen und heller,
Dill he fix de finances aright.
Boot shoost ash de liddle man vent, he,
(Der Ritter,) ashtonished cried 'Dang!'
For id vasn't von thaler boot tventy,
He'd passed on der Ritter von Slang.
O reater! Soopose soosh a vlight in
De vingers of me, or of you,
How we'd toorned on our heels, und gon kitin
Dill no von vos left to pursue!
Good Lort! how we'd froze to de ready!
Boot mit him 'dvas a different ding;
For he vent on de high, moral steady,
Dis lofer of Fraulein von Sling.
Und dough no von vill gife any gredit
To dis part of mine dale, shdill id's drue,
He drafelled ash if he vould dead it,
Dis liddle oldt man to pursue.
Und loudly he after him hollers,
Till de vales mit de cliffers loud rang:
'You hafe gifed me nine-ten too moosh dollars,
Hold Hard!' cried der Ritter von Slang.
De oldt man ope his eyes like a casement,
Und laid a cold hand on his prow,
155
Denn mutter in ootmosdt amazement,
'Vot manner of mordal art dou?
I hafe lifed in dis world a yar tausend,
Und nefer yed met soosh a ding!
Yet you find it hart vork to pe spouse, and
Peloved by de Lady von Sling!
'Und she vant you to roll from de tower
Down shteps to yon rifulet spot.'
(Here de knight, whom amazement o'erbower,
Cried, 'Himmels potz pumpen Herr Gott!')
Boot de oldt veller saidt: 'I'll arrange it,
Let your droples und sorrows co hang!
Und nodings vill coom to derange itPet high on it, Ritter von Slang.
'So get oop dis small oonderstandin,
Dat to-morrow by ten, do you hear?
You'll pe mit your trunk at de landin;
I'll also be dere-nefer fear!
Und I dinks we shall make your young voman
A new kind of meloty sing;
Dat vain, wicked, cruel, unhuman,
Gott-tamnaple Fraulein von Sling.'
De fiolet shdars vere apofe him,
Vhite moths und vhite dofes shimmered round,
All nature seemed seekin to lofe him,
Mit perfume und vision und sound.
De liddle oldt veller hat fanished,
In a harp-like, melotious twang;
Und mit him all sorrow vas panished
Afay from der Steinli von Slang.
III.
Id vas morn, und de vorldt hat assempled
Mid panners und lances und dust,
Boot de heart of de Paroness trempled,
Und ofden her folly she cussed.
For she found dat der Ritter vould do it,
Und 'die or get into de Ring,'
156
Und denn she'd pe cerdain to rue it,
Aldough she vas Lady von Sling.
For no man in Deutschland stood higher
Dan he mit de Minnesing crew,
He vas friendet to Heini von Steier,
Und Wolfram von Eschenbach too.
Und she dinked ash she look from de vinders,
How herzlich his braises dey sang;
'Now dey'll knock my goot name indo flinders,
For killin der Ritter von Slang.'
Boot oh! der goot knight had a Schauer,
Und felt most ongommonly queer,
Vhen he find on de top of de dower
De goblum, pesite him, abbear.
Denn he find he no more could go valkin,
Und shtood, shoost and potrified ding,
Vhile de goblum vent round about talkin,
Und chaffin Plectruda von Sling.
Denn at vonce he see indo de problum,
Und vas stoggered like rats at ids vim:
His soul had gone indo de goblum,
Und de goblum's hat gone indo him.
Und de eyes of de volk vas enchanted,
Dere vas 'glamour' oopon de whole gang;
For dey dinked dat dis veller who ranted
So loose, vas der Ritter von Slang.
Und, Lordt! how he dalked! Oonder heafens
Dere vas nefer soosh derriple witz,
Knockin all dings to sechses and sefens,
Und gifin Plectruda, Dutch fits.
Mein Gott! how he poonished und chaffed her
Like a hell-stingin, devil-born ding;
Vhile de volk lay a-rollin mit laughter
At Fraulein Plectruda von Sling.
De lady grew angry und paler,
De lady grew ratful und red,
She felt some Satanical jailer
157
Hafe brisoned de tongue in her head.
She moost laugh vhen she vant to pe cryin,
Und vas crushed mit de teufelisch clang,
Till she knelt herself, pooty near dyin,
To dis derriple image of Slang.
Denn der goblum shoomp oop to der ceiling
Und trow sommerseds round on de vloor,
Right ofer Plectruda a-kneelin,
Dill she look more a vool dan pefore.
Denn he roll down de shteps light und breezy,
His laughs made it all apout ring;
Ash he shveared dere vas noding more easy
Dan to win a Plectruda von Sling.
Und vhen he cot down to de pottom,
He laugh so to freezen your plood;
Und schwear dat de boomps ash he cot em
Hafe make him feel petter ash good.
Boot, oh! how dey shook at his power,
Vhen he toorned himself roundt mit a bang,
Und roll oop to de dop of de tower,
To change forms mit de oder Von Slang!
Denn all in an insdand vas altered,
Der Steinli vas coom to himself;
Und de sprite, vitch in double sense paltered,
From dat moment acain vas an elf.
Dey shdill dinked dat he vas de person
Who had bobbed oop and down on de ving,
Und knew not who 'tvas lay de curse on
De peaudiful Lady von Sling.
Nun-endlich- Plectruda repented,
Und gazed on der Ritter mit shoy;
In dime to pe married consented,
Und vas plessed mit a peautifool poy.
A dwenty gold biece on his bosom
Vhen geporn vas tiscofered to hang
Mit de inscript-'Dis dime dont refuse em'So endet de tale of Von Slang.
158
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
398:A Le Brun Et Au Marquis De Brazais
Le Brun, qui nous attends aux rives de la Seine,
Quand un destin jaloux loin de toi nous enchaîne;
Toi, Brazais, comme moi sur ces bords appelé,
Sans qui de l'univers je vivrais exilé;
Depuis que de Pandore un regard téméraire
Versa sur les humains un trésor de misère,
Pensez-vous que du ciel l'indulgente pitié
Leur ait fait un présent plus beau que l'amitié?
Ah! si quelque mortel est né pour la connaître.
C'est nous, âmes de feu, dont l'Amour est le maître.
Le cruel trop souvent empoisonne ses coups;
Elle garde à nos coeurs ses baumes les plus doux.
Malheur au jeune enfant seul, sans ami, sans guide,
Qui près de la beauté rougit et s'intimide,
Et, d'un pouvoir nouveau lentement dominé,
Par l'appât du plaisir doucement entraîné,
Crédule, et sur la foi d'un sourire volage,
A cette mer trompeuse et se livre et s'engage!
Combien de fois, tremblant et les larmes aux yeux,
Ses cris accuseront l'inconstance des dieux!
Combien il frémira d'entendre sur sa tête
Gronder les aquilons et la noire tempête,
Et d'écueils en écueils portera ses douleurs
Sans trouver une main pour essuyer ses pleurs!
Mais heureux dont le zèle, au milieu du naufrage,
Viendra le recueillir, le pousser au rivage;
Endormir dans ses flancs le poison ennemi;
Réchauffer dans son sein le sein de son ami,
Et de son fol amour étouffer la semence,
Ou du moins dans son coeur ranimer l'espérance!
Qu'il est beau de savoir, digne d'un tel lien,
Au repos d'un ami sacrifier le sien!
Plaindre de s'immoler l'occasion ravie,
Être heureux de sa joie et vivre de sa vie!
Si le ciel a daigné d'un regard amoureux
Accueillir ma prière et sourire à mes voeux,
Je ne demande point que mes sillons avides
Boivent l'or du Pactole et ses trésors liquides;
Ni que le diamant, sur la pourpre enchaîné,
Pare mon coeur esclave au Louvre prosterné;
Ni même, voeu plus doux! que la main d'Uranie
Embellisse mon front des palmes du génie;
Mais que beaucoup d'amis, accueillis dans mes bras,
Se partagent ma vie et pleurent mon trépas;
Que ces doctes héros, dont la main de la Gloire
A consacré les noms au temple de Mémoire,
Plutôt que leurs talents, inspirent à mon coeur
Les aimables vertus qui firent leur bonheur;
Et que de l'amitié ces antiques modèles
Reconnaissent mes pas sur leurs traces fidèles.
Si le feu qui respire en leurs divins écrits
D'une vive étincelle échauffa nos esprits;
Si leur gloire en nos coeurs souffle une noble envie,
Oh! suivons donc aussi l'exemple de leur vie:
Gardons d'en négliger la plus belle moitié;
Soyons heureux comme eux au sein de l'amitié.
Horace, loin des flots qui tourmentent Cythère,
Y retrouvait d'un port l'asile salutaire;
Lui-même au doux Tibulle, à ses tristes amours,
Prêta de l'amitié les utiles secours.
L'amitié rendit vains tous les traits de Lesbie;
Elle essuya les yeux que fit pleurer Cynthie.
Virgile n'a-t-il pas, d'un vers doux et flatteur,
De Gallus expirant consolé le malheur?
Voilà l'exemple saint que mon coeur leur demande.
Ovide, ah! qu'à mes yeux ton infortune est grande!
Non pour n'avoir pu faire aux tyrans irrités
Agréer de tes vers les lâches faussetés;
Je plains ton abandon, ta douleur solitaire.
Pas un coeur qui, du tien zélé dépositaire,
Vienne adoucir ta plaie, apaiser ton effroi,
Et consoler tes pleurs, et pleurer avec toi!
Ce n'est pas nous, amis, qu'un tel foudre menace.
Que des dieux et des rois l'éclatante disgrâce
Nous frappe: leur tonnerre aura trompé leurs mains;
Nous resterons unis en dépit des destins.
Qu'ils excitent sur nous la fortune cruelle;
Qu'elle arme tous ses traits: nous sommes trois contre elle.
Nos coeurs peuvent l'attendre, et, dans tous ses combats,
L'un sur l'autre appuyés, ne chancelleront pas.
Oui, mes amis, voilà le bonheur, la sagesse.
Que nous importe alors si le dieu du Permesse
Dédaigne de nous voir, entre ses favoris,
Charmer de l'Hélicon les bocages fleuris?
Aux sentiers où leur vie offre un plus doux exemple,
Où la félicité les reçut dans son temple,
Nous les aurons suivis, et, jusques au tombeau,
De leur double laurier su ravir le plus beau.
Mais nous pouvons, comme eux, les cueillir l'un et l'autre.
Ils reçurent du ciel un coeur tel que le nôtre;
Ce coeur fut leur génie; il fut leur Apollon,
Et leur docte fontaine, et leur sacré vallon.
Castor charme les dieux, et son frère l'inspire.
Loin de Patrocle, Achille aurait brisé sa lyre.
C'est près de Pollion, dans les bras de Varus,
Que Virgile envia le destin de Nisus.
Que dis-je? ils t'ont transmis ce feu qui les domine.
N'ai-je pas vu ta muse au tombeau de Racine,
Le Brun, faire gémir la lyre de douleurs
Que jadis Simonide anima de ses pleurs?
Et toi, dont le génie, amant de la retraite,
Et des leçons d'Ascra studieux interprète,
Accompagnant l'année en ses douze palais,
Étale sa richesse et ses vastes bienfaits;
Brazais, que de tes chants mon âme est pénétrée,
Quand ils vont couronner cette vierge adorée
Dont par la main du temps l'empire est respecté,
Et de qui la vieillesse augmente la beauté!
L'homme insensible et froid en vain s'attache à peindre
Ces sentiments du coeur que l'esprit ne peut feindre;
De ses tableaux fardés les frivoles appas
N'iront jamais au coeur dont ils ne viennent pas.
Eh! comment me tracer une image fidèle
Des traits dont votre main ignore le modèle?
Mais celui qui, dans soi descendant en secret,
Le contemple vivant, ce modèle parfait,
C'est lui qui nous enflamme au feu qui le dévore;
Lui qui fait adorer la vertu qu'il adore;
Lui qui trace, en un vers des Muses agréé,
Un sentiment profond que son coeur a créé.
Aimer, sentir, c'est là cette ivresse vantée
Qu'aux célestes foyers déroba Prométhée.
Calliope jamais daigna-t-elle enflammer
Un coeur inaccessible à la douceur d'aimer?
Non: l'amour, l'amitié, la sublime harmonie,
Tous ces dons précieux n'ont qu'un même génie;
Même souffle anima le poète charmant,
L'ami religieux et le parfait amant;
Ce sont toutes vertus d'une âme grande et fière.
Bavius et Zoïle, et Gacon et Linière,
Aux concerts d'Apollon ne furent point admis,
Vécurent sans maîtresse, et n'eurent point d'amis.
Et ceux qui, par leurs moeurs dignes de plus d'estime,
Ne sont point nés pourtant sous cet astre sublime,
Voyez-les, dans des vers divins, délicieux,
Vous habiller l'amour d'un clinquant précieux;
Badinage insipide où leur ennui se joue,
Et qu'autant que l'amour le bon sens désavoue.
Voyez si d'une belle un jeune amant épris
A tressailli jamais en lisant leurs écrits;
Si leurs lyres jamais, froides comme leurs âmes,
De la sainte amitié respirèrent les flammes.
O peuples de héros, exemples des mortels!
C'est chez vous que l'encens fuma sur ses autels;
C'est aux temps glorieux des triomphes d'Athène,
Aux temps sanctifiés par la vertu romaine;
Quand l'âme de Lélie animait Scipion,
Quand Nicoclès mourait au sein de Phocion;
C'est aux murs où Lycurgue a consacré sa vie,
Où les vertus étaient les lois de la patrie.
O demi-dieux amis! Atticus, Cicéron,
Caton, Brutus, Pompée, et Sulpice, et Varron!
Ces héros, dans le sein de leur ville perdue,
S'assemblaient pour pleurer la liberté vaincue.
Unis par la vertu, la gloire, le malheur,
Les arts et l'amitié consolaient leur douleur.
Sans l'amitié, quel antre ou quel sable infertile
N'eût été pour le sage un désirable asile,
Quand du Tibre avili le spectre ensanglanté
Armait la main du vice et la férocité;
Quand d'un vrai citoyen l'éclat et le courage
10
Réveillaient du tyran la soupçonneuse rage;
Quand l'exil, la prison, le vol, l'assassinat,
Étaient pour l'apaiser l'offrande du Sénat!
Thraséas, Soranus, Sénécion, Rustique,
Vous tous, dignes enfants de la patrie antique,
Je vous vois tous amis, entourés de bourreaux,
Braver du scélérat les indignes faisceaux,
Du lâche délateur l'impudente richesse,
Et du vil affranchi l'orgueilleuse bassesse.
Je vous vois, au milieu des crimes, des noirceurs,
Garder une patrie, et des lois, et des moeurs;
Traverser d'un pied sûr, sans tache, sans souillure,
Les flots contagieux de cette mer impure;
Vous créer, au flambeau de vos mâles aïeux,
Sur ce monde profane un monde vertueux.
Oh! viens rendre à leurs noms nos âmes attentives,
Amitié! de leur gloire ennoblis nos archives.
Viens, viens: que nos climats, par ton souffle épurés,
Enfantent des rivaux à ces hommes sacrés.
Rends-nous hommes comme eux. Fais sur la France heureuse
Descendre des Vertus la troupe radieuse,
De ces filles du ciel qui naissent dans ton sein,
Et toutes sur tes pas se tiennent par la main.
Ranime les beaux-arts, éveille leur génie,
Chasse de leur empire et la haine et l'envie:
Loin de toi dans l'opprobre ils meurent avilis;
Pour conserver leur trône ils doivent être unis.
Alors de l'univers ils forcent les hommages:
Tout, jusqu'à Plutus même, encense leurs images;
Tout devient juste alors; et le peuple et les grands,
Quand l'homme est respectable, honorent les talents.
Ainsi l'on vit les Grecs prôner d'un même zèle
La gloire d'Alexandre et la gloire d'Apelle;
La main de Phidias créa des immortels,
Et Smyrne à son Homère éleva des autels.
Nous, amis, cependant, de qui la noble audace
Veut atteindre aux lauriers de l'antique Parnasse,
Au rang de ces grands noms nous pouvons être admis;
Soyons cités comme eux entre les vrais amis.
Qu'au-delà du trépas notre âme mutuelle
Vive et respire encor sur la lyre immortelle.
11
Que nos noms soient sacrés, que nos chants glorieux
Soient pour tous les amis un code précieux.
Qu'ils trouvent dans nos vers leur âme et leurs pensées;
Qu'ils raniment encor nos muses éclipsées,
Et qu'en nous imitant ils s'attendent un jour
D'être chez leurs neveux imités à leur tour.
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
399:Breitmann’s Going To Church
D'VAS near de state of Nashfille,
In de town of Tennessee,
Der Breitmann vonce vas quarderd
Mit all his cavallrie.
Der Sheneral kept him glose in gamp,
He vouldn't let dem go;
Dey couldn't shdeal de first plack hen,
Or make de red cock crow.
Und virst der Breitmann vildly shmiled,
Und denn he madly shvore;
'Crate h--l, mit shpoons und shinsherbread,
Can dis pe makin war?
Verdammt pe all der discipline!
Verdammt der Sheneral!
Vere I vonce on de road, his will,
Vere wurst mir und egal.
'Oh vhere ish all de plazin roofs
Dat claddened vonce mine eyes?
Und vhere de crand plantaschions
Vhere ve gaddered many a brize?
Und vhere de plasted shpies ve hung
A howlin loud mit fear?
Und vhere de rascal push-whackers
Ve shashed like vritened deer?
'De roofs are shtandin fast and firm
Mit repels blottin oonder;
De crand blantaschions lie round loose
For Morgan's men to ploonder!
De shpies go valkin out und in,
Ash sassy ash can pe;
Und in de voods de push-whackers
Are makin foon of me!
'Oh vere I on my schimmel grey
Mein sabre in mein hand,
Dey should drack me py de ruins
94
Of de houses troo de land.
Dey should drack me py de puzzards
High sailen ofer head,
A vollowin der Breitmann's trail
To claw de repel dead.'
Outspoke der bold Von Stossenheim,
Who had theories of Gott:
'O Breitmann, dis ish shoodgement on
De vays dat you hafe trot.
You only lifes to joy yourself,
Yet you, yourself moost say,
Dat self-defelopment requires
De religios Idee.'
Dey sat dem down and argued id,
Like Deutschers vree from fear,
Dill dey schmoke ten pounds of knaster,
Und drinked drei fass of bier.
Der Breitmann go py Schopenhauer,
Boot Veit he had him denn;
For he dook him on de angles
Of de moral oxygen.
Der Breitmann 'low, dat 'pentence,
Ish known in efery glime,
Und dat to grin und bear it
Vas healty und soopline.
'For mine Sout German Catolicks,
Id vas pe goot, I know;
Likevise dem Nordland Luterans,
If vonce to shoorsh dey go.
'Boot how vas id mit oders
Who dinks philosophie?
I don't begreif de matter,'
Said Stossenheim: 'Denn see.
De more dat shoorsh disgoostet you,
Und make despise und bain,
De crater merid ish to go,
Und de crater ish your gain.
95
'I know a liddle shoorsh mineself,
Oopon de Bole Jack road:
(De rebs vonce shot dree Federals dere,
Ash into shoorsh dey goed.)
Dere you might make a bilcrimage,
Und do id in a tay:
Gott only knows vot dings you mighdt
Bick oop, oopon de vay.'
Denn oop dere shpoke a contrapand,
Vas at de tent id's toor'Dere's twenty bar'ls of whiskey, hid,
In dat tabernacle, shore.
A rebel he done gone and put
It in de cellar, true,
No libin man dat secret knows,
'Cept only me an' you.'
Der Stossenheim, he grossed himself,
Und knelt peside de fence,
Und gried: 'O Coptain Breitmannn, see,
Die finger Providence.'
Der Breitmann droed his hat afay,
Says he, 'Pe't hit or miss,
I'fe heard of miragles pefore,
Boot none so hunk ash dis.'
'Wohlauf mine pully cafaliers,
Ve'll ride to shoorsh to-day,
Each man ash hasn't cot a horse
Moost shteal von, rite afay.
Dere's a raw, green corps from Michigan,
Mit horses on de loose,
You men ash vants some hoof-irons,
Look out and crip deir shoes.'
All brooshed und fixed, de cavallrie,
Rode out py moonen shine,
De cotton fields in shimmerin light,
Lay white as elfenbein.
Dey heard a shot close py Lavergne,
Und men who rode afay,
96
In de road a-velterin his his ploot,
A Federal picket lay.
Und all dat he hafe dimes to say,
'Vhile shtandin at my post,
De guerillas got first shot at me,'
Und so gafe oop de ghost.
Denn a contrapand, who helt his head,
Said: 'Sah - dose grillers all
Is only half a mile from hy'ar,
A dancin at a ball.'
Der Breitmann shpoke and brummed it out
Ash if his heart tid schvell:
'I'll gife dem music at dat pall
Vill tantz dem into hell.'
Hei! - arrow-fast - a teufel's ride!
De plack man led de vay,
Dey reach de house - dey see de lightsDey heard de fiddle blay.
Dey nefer vaited for a word
Boot galloped from de gloom,
Und, bang! - a hoonderd carpine shots
Dey fired indo de room.
Oop vent de groans of vounded men,
De fittlin died away:
Boot some of dem vere tead pefore
De music ceased to blay.
Denn crack und smack coom scotterin shots
Troo vindow und troo door,
Boot bang and clang de Germans gife
Anoder volley more.
'Dere - let 'em shlide. Right file to shoorsh!'
Aloudt de orders ran.
'I kess I paid dem for dat shot,'
Shpeak grim der Breitemann.
All rosen red de mornin fair
Shone gaily o'er de hill,
A violet plue de shky crew teep
97
In rifer, pond, und rill;
All cloudy grey de limeshtone rocks
Coom oop troo dimmerin wood;
All shnowy vite in mornin light
De shoorsh pefore dem shtood.
'Now loudet vell de organ, oop,
To drill mit solemn fear;
Und ring also dat Lumpenglock
To pring de beoples here.
Und if it prings guerillas down,
Ve'll gife dem, py de Lord,
De low-mass of de sabre, and
De high-mass of de cord.
'Du, Eberle aus Freiburg,
Du bist ein Musikant,
Top-sawyer on de counterpoint
Und buster in discant,
To dee de soul of musik
All innerly ish known,
Du canst mit might fullenden
De art of orgel-ton.
'Derefore, a Miserere
Vill dou, be-ghostet, spiel,
Und vake be-raised, yearnin,
Also a holy feel:Pe referent, men - rememper
Dis ish a GotteshausDu Conrad - go along de aisles
Und schenk de whiskey aus!:
Dey blay crate dings from Mozart,
Beethoven, und Mehul
Mit chorals of Sebastian Bach
Soopline und peaudiful.
Der Breitmann feel like holy saints,
De tears roon down his fuss;
Und he sopped out, 'got verdammich - dis
Ist wahres Kunstgenuss!'
98
Der Eberle blayed oop so high,
He maket de rafters ring;
Der Eberle blayed lower, und
Ve heardt der Breitmann sing
Like a dronin wind in piney woods
Like a nightly moanin sea:
Ash de dinked on Sonntags long agone
Vhen a poy in Germany.
Und louder und mit louder tone
High oop de orgel blowed,
Und plentifuller efer yet
Around de whiskey goed.
Dey singed ash if mit singin, dey
Might indo Himmel win:I dink in all dis land soosh shprees
Ash yet hafe nefer peen.
Vhen in de Abendsonnenschein,
Mit doost-clouds troo de door,
All plack ash night in golden lighdt
Der shtood ein schwartzer Mohr,
Dat contrapand so wild und weh,
Mit eye-palls glaring roun,
Who cried 'For Gott's sake, hoory oop!
De reps ish gomin down!'
Und while he yet was shpeakin,
A far-off soundt pegan,
Down rollin from de moundain
Of many a ridersmann.
Und vhile de waves of musik
Vere rollin o'er deir heads,
Dey heard a foice a schkreemin,
'Pile out of thar, you Feds!
'For we uns ar' a comin
For to guv to you uns fits,
And knock you into brimstun
And blast you all to bits'Boot ere it done ids shpeakin,
Der vas order in de band,
99
Ash Breitmann, mit an awfool stim
Out-dondered his gommand.
Und ash fisch-hawk at a mackarel
Doth make a splurgin flung,
Und ash eagles dab de fish-hawks
Ash if de gods vere young,
So from all de doors and vindows,
Like shpiders down deir webs
De Dootch went at deir horses,
Und de horses at de rebs.
Crate shplendors of de treadful
Vere in dat pattle rush,
Crate vights mit swords und carpine,
Py efery fence and bush.
Ash panters vight mit crislies
In famished morder fitsFor de rebs vere mad ash boison,
Und de Dootch vere droonk ash blitz.
Yet vild ash vas de pattle,
So quickly vas it o'er,
O, vhy moost I forefer
Pestain mine page mit gore?
Py liddle und py liddle
Dey drawed demselfs afay,
Oft toornin' round to vighten
Like boofaloes at bay.
De scatterin shots grew fewer,
De scatterin gries more shlow,
Und furder troo de forest
Ve heard dem vainter grow.
Ve gife von shout - 'Victoria!'
Und denn der Breitmann said,
Ash he wiped his ploody sabre:
'Now, poys, count oop your dead!'
Oh small had been our shoutin
For shoy, if ve had known
Dat der Stossenheim im oaken wald,
100
Lay dyin all alone.
Vhile his oldt vhite horse mit droopin het
Look dumbly on him doun,
Ash if he dinked, 'Vy lyest dou here
Vhile fightin's goin on?'
Und dreams coom o'er de soldier
Slow dyin on de eart;
Of a schloss afar in Baden,
Of his mutter, und nople birt!
Of poverty and sorrow,
Vhich drofe him like de wind,
Und he sighed, 'Ach weh for de lofed ones,
Who wait so far pehind!'
'Wohl auf, my soul o'er de moundains!
Wohl auf - well ofer de sea!
Dere's a frau dat sits in de Odenwald
Und shpins, und dinks of me.
Dere's a shild ash blays in de greenin grass,
Und sings a liddle hymn,
Und learns to shpeak a fader's name
Dat she nefer will shpeak to him.
'But mordal life ends shortly
Und Heafen's life is long:Wo bist du Breitmann? - glaub'esGott suffers noding wrong.
Now I die like a Christian soldier,
My head oopon my sword:In nomine Domini!'Vas Stossenheim his word.
O, dere vas bitter wailen
Vhen Stossenheim vas found.
Efen from dose dere lyin
Fast dyin on de ground.
Boot time vas short for vaiten,
De shades vere gadderin dim:
Und I nefer shall forget it,
De hour ve puried him.
101
De tramp of horse und soldiers
Vas all de funeral knell;
De ring of sporn und carpine
Vas all de sacrin bell.
Mit hoontin knife und sabre
Dey digged de grave a span,
From German eyes blue gleamin
De holy water ran.
Mit moss-grown shticks und bark-thong
De plessed cross ve made,
Und put it vhere de soldier's head
Towards Germany vas laid.
Dat grave is lost mit dead leafs,
De cross is goned afay:
Boot Gott will find der reiter
Oopon de Youngest Day.
Und dinkin of de fightin,
Und dinkin of de dead,
Und dinkin of de organ,
To Nashville, Breitmann led
Boot long dat rough oldt Hanserl
Vas earnsthaft, grim und kalt,
Shtill dinkin o'er de heart's friend,
He'd left im gruenen wald.
De verses of dis boem
In Heidelberg I write;
De night is dark around me,
De shtars apove are bright.
Studenten in den Gassen
Make singen many a song;
Ach Faderland! - wie bist du weit!
Ach Zeit! - wie bist du lang!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
400:Schnitzerl’s Philosopede
I. PROLOGUE.
HERR SCHNITZERL make a ph'losopede,
Von of de pullyest kind;
It vent mitout a vheel in front,
And hadn't none pehind.
Von vheel vas in de mittel, dough,
And it vent as sure ash ecks,
For he shtraddled on de axel dree,
Mit der vheel petween his lecks.
Und vhen he vant to shtart it off
He paddlet mit his feet,
Und soon he cot to go so vast
Dat efery dings he peat.
He run her out on Broader shtreed,
He shkeeted like der vind,
Hei! how he bassed de vancy crabs,
And lef dem all pehind!
De vellers mit de trottin nags
Pooled oop to see him bass;
De Deutschers all erstaunished saidt:
'Potztausend! Was ist das?'
Boot vaster shtill der Schnitzerl flewed
On - mit a ghastly shmile;
He tidn't tooch de dirt, py shings!
Not vonce in half a mile.
Oh, vot ish all dis eart'ly pliss?
Oh, vot ish man's soocksess?
Oh, vot ish various kinds of dings?
Und vot ish hobbiness?
Ve find a pank node in de shtreedt,
Next dings der pank ish preak!
Ve folls, and knocks our outsides in,
Vhen ve a ten shtrike make.
So vas it mit der Schnitzerlein
139
On his philosopede.
His feet both shlipped outsidevard shoost
Vhen at his exdra shpeed.
He felled oopon der vheel of coorse;
De vheel like blitzen flew!
Und Schnitzerl he vos schnitz in vact,
For it shlished him grod in two.
Und as for his philosopede,
Id cot so shkared, men say,
It pounded onward till it vent
Ganz tyfelwards afay.
Boot vhere ish now der Schnitzerl's soul?
Vhere dos his shbirit pide?
In Himmel droo de endless plue,
It takes a medeor ride.
II. HANS BREITMANN AND HIS PHILOSOPEDE.
Vhen Breitmann hear dat Schnitzerl
Vas quardered into dwo,
Und how his crate philosopede
To 'm tyfel had peen flew,
He dinked und dinked so heafy,
Ash only Deutschers can,
Denn saidt, 'Who mighdt peliefet
Dish is de ent of man?'
'De human souls of beoples
Exisdt in deir idees,
Und dis of Wolfram Schnitzerl
Mighdt drafel many vays.
In his Bestimmung des Menschen
Der Fichte makes pelieve,
Dat ve brogress oon-endtly
In vhat pehindt ve leave.
'De shparrow falls ground-downvarts
Or drafels to de West;
De shparrows dat coom afder,
Bild shoost de same old nest.
140
Man had not vings or fedders,
Und in oder dings, 'tis set,
He tont coom up to shparrows,
But on nests he goes ahet.
'O! vliest dou droo bornin' vorldts,
Und nebuloser foam,
By monsdrous mitnight shiant forms,
Or vhere red tyfels roam;
Or vhere de ghosdts of shky-rockets
Peyond creation flee?
Vhere e'er dou art, O Schnitzerlein,
Crate Saindt! Look down on me!
'Und deach me how you maket
Dat crate philosopede,
Vhich roon dwice six mals vaster
Ash any Arap shteed.
Und deach me how to 'stonish volk,
Und knock dem oud de shpots.
Coom pack to eart', O Schnitzerlein,
Und pring id down to dots!'
Shoost ash dish vordt vent outvarts,
Hans dinked he saw a vlash,
Und oonterwards de dable
He doompelt mit a crash.
Und to him, moong de glasses,
Und pottles ash vas proke,
Mit his het in a cigar-box,
A foice from Himmel shpoke:
'Adsum, Domine Breitmann!
Herr Copitain, here I pe!
So dell me rite honeste,
Quare inquietasti me?
Te video inter spoonibus,
Et largis glassis too,
Cerevisia repletis,
Sicut percussus tonitru!'
Denn Breitmann ansver Schnitzerl;
141
'Coarctor nimis, see!
Siquidem Philistiim
Pugnant adversum me.
Ergo vocavi te,
Ash Saul vocavit SamUel, ut mi ostenderes
Quid teufel faciam?'
Denn de shpirit (in Lateinisch)
Saidt 'Bene, dat's de talk,
Non habes in hoc shanty,
A shingle et some chalk?
Non video inkum nec calamos
(I shpose some bummer shdole 'em),
Levate oculos tuos, son,
Et aspice ad linteolum!'
Denn Breitmann see de biece of chalk
Vhich riset vrom de vloor,
Und signed a fine philosopede
Alone, oopon de toor.
De von dat Schnitzerl fobricate,
Und oonderneat' he see:
Probate inter equites,
(Try dis in de cavallrie).
Der Breitmann shtood oop from de vloor,
Und leanet on a post;
Und saidt: 'If dis couldt, shouldt hafe peen,
Dar vouldt, mighdt peen a ghosdt;
Boot if id pe noumenon,
Phenomenoned indeed,
Or de soobyectif obyectified,
I'fe cot de philosopede.'
Denn out he seekt a plackschmit,
Ash vork in iron-steel,
To make him a philosopede
Mit shoost an only vheel.
De dings vas maket simple,
Ash all crate idees shouldt pe,
For 'tvas noding boot a gart-vheel,
142
Mit a dwo-feet axel dree.
De dimes der Breitmann doomple,
In learnin' for to ride,
Vas ofdener ash de sand-crains
Dat rollen in de tide.
De dimes he cot oopsettet,
In shdeerin' left und righdt,
Vas ofdener ash de cleamin' shdars,
Dat shtud de shky py night.
Boot de vorstest of de veadures
In dis von-vheel horse, you pet,
Ish dat man couldt go so nicely,
Pefore he get oopset.
Some dimes he co like plazes,
Und doorn her, extra-fine;
Und denn shlop ofer - dis is vot
Hafe kill der Schnitzerlein.
Soosh droples ash der Breitmann hafe,
To make dis 'vention go,
Vas nefer seen py mordal man,
Oopon dis vorldt pelow.
He doomplet righdt - he doomplet left,
He hafe a dousand doomps;
Dere nefer vas a gricket ball
Ash get soosh 'fernal boomps.
Boot - ash he'd shvearet he'd poot it droo,
He shvear't it moost pe tone;
Dough he schimpft' und flucht' gar laesterlich,
He visht he't ne'er pegun.
Mit 'Hagel! Blitz! Kreuz-sakrament!'
He maket de Houser ring,
Und vish der Schnitzerl vas in hell,
For deachin' him dis ding.
Nun - goot! At lasht he cot it,
Und peautifool he goed,
'Dis day,' saidt he, 'I'll 'stonish folk
A ridin' in de road.
143
Dis day, py shings! I'll do it,
Und knock dings oud of sight:'Ach weh! - for Breitmann dat day
Vas not be-markt mit vhite.
De noombers of de Deutsche volk,
Dat coomed dis sighdt to see,
I dink, in soper earnst-hood,
Mighdt not ge-reckonet pe.
For miles dey shtoodt along de road,
Mein Gott! - boot dey wer'n dry;
Dey trinket den lager-bier shops out,
Pefore der Hans coom py.
Vhen all at vonce drementous gries
De fery coondry shook,
Und beople's shkreemt, 'Da ist er! - Schau!
Here cooms der Breitmann, look!'
Mein Gott! vas efer soosh a sighdt!
Vas efer soosh a gry!
Vhen like a brick-pat in a vighdt,
Der Breitemann roosh py?
Oh mordal man! Vhy ish idt, dou
Hast passion to go vast?
Vhy ish id dat te tog und horse
Likes shbeed too quick to lasht?
De pugs, de pirds, de pumple-pees,
Und all dat ish, 'tvouldt seem
Ish nefer hobby boot, exsepdt,
Vhen pilin' on de shdeam.
Der Breitmann flew! Von mighdy gry
Ash he vent scootin' bast;
Von derriple, drementous yell;Dat day de virst - und lasht.
Vot ha! Vot ho! Vhy ish it dus?
Vhot makes dem shdare aghasht?
Vhy cooms dat vail of vild deshbair?
Ish somedings cot ge-shmasht?
Yea, efen so. Yea, ferily,
144
Shbeak, soul!-it ish dy biz!
Der Breitmann shkeet so vast along
Dey fairly heard him whizz.
Vhen shoost oopon a hill-top point
It caught a pranch ge-bent,
Und like an apple from a shling,
Afay Hans Breitmann vent.
Vent droo de air an hoondert feet
Allowin' more or lees:Denn, pob-pob-pob - a mile or dwo
He rollet along - I guess.
Say - hast dou seen a gannon ball
Half shpent, shtill poundin' on,
Like made of gummi-lasticum?So vent der Breitmann.
Dey bick him oop - dey pring him in,
No wort der Breitmann shboke.
Der doktor look - he shwear erstaunt
Dat nodings ish peen proke.
'He rollt de rocky road entlang,
He pounce o'er shtock und shtone,
You'd dink he'd knocked his outsites in,
Yet nefer preak a pone!'
All shtill Hans lay, bevilderfied;
He seemt not mind de shaps,
Nor mofed oontil der medicus
Hafe dose him vell mit schnapps.
De schmell voke oop de boetry
Of tays vhen he vas yoong,
Und he murmulte de fragmends
Of an sad romantish song:
'Ash sommer pring de roses
Und roses pring de dew,
So Deutschland gifes de maidens
Who fetch de bier for you.
Komm Maidelein! rothe Waengelein!
Mit wein-glass in your paw!
Ve'll get troonk among de roses,
145
Und pe soper on de shtraw!
'Ash vinter pring de ice-wind
Vitch plow o'er Burg und hill,
Hard times pring in de landlord,
Und de landlord pring the pill.
Boot sing Maidelein - rothe Waengelein!
Mit wein glass in your paw!
Ve'll get troonk among de roses,
Und pe soper on de shtraw!'
Dey dook der Breitmann homewarts,
Boot efer on de vay
He nefer shpeaket no man,
Und nodings else couldt say,
Boot, 'Maidelein - rothe Waengelein!
Mit wein-glass in her paw,
Ve'll get troonk among de roses,
Und pe soper on de shtraw!'
Dey laid der Hans im bette,
Peneat' de eider doun,
Und sembelet all de doktors
Who doktor in de town,Dat ish, de Deutsche Aertzte,For Breitmann alvays says,
De Deutschers ish de onlies
Mit originell idees.
Der vas Doktor Moritz Schlinkenschlag,
Dat vork ash Cafeopath,
Und de learned Cobus Schoepfskopf,
Who use de milchy bath;
Und Korschalitschky aus Boehmen,
Vhat cure mit slibovitz,
Und Wechselbalg, der Preusse,
Who only 'tend to fits.
Dere vas Strobbich aus Westfalen,
Who mofe all eart'ly ills
Mit concentrirter Schinken juice,
Und Pumpernickel pills.
146
Und a bier-kur man from Munich,
Und a grape-curist from Rhein,
Und von who shkare tiseases
Mit a dose of Schlesier-wein.
So dey meet in consooldation,
Mit Doktor Winkeleck,
Who proctice 'renovation'
Mit sauer-kraut und speck.
Und dat no man shouldt pe shlightet,
Or dreatet ash a tunce,
Dey 'greed to dry deir systems
Oopon Breitmann - all at vonce.
Dat ish, mit de exscepdion
Of gifin' Schlesier-wein:
For de remedy vas dangerfull
For von who trink from Rhein.
Ash der Teufel vonce deklaret,
Vhen he taste it on a shpree,
Dat a man, to trink soosh liquor,
Moost a porn Silesian pe.
So dey all vent los at Breitmann,
Und woonderfool to dell,
He coom to his Gesundheit,
Und pooty soon cot vell.
Some hinted at Natura,
Mit her olt vis sanatrix,
Boot eash doktor shvore he curet him,
Und de rest were taugenix.
I know not vot der Breitmann
More newly has pegun;
Boot dey say he talks day-dayly
Mit Dana of de Sun.
Dey talk in Deutsch togeder,
Und volk say de end will be,
Philosopedal shanges
In de Union Cavallrie.
Gott helf de howlin' safage!
147
Got helf de Indi-an!
Shouldt Breitmann shoin his forces
Mit Sheneral Sheridan!
Und denn, to sing his braises,
I'll write anoder lied:
Hier hat dis dale an ende,
Of Breitmann's Philosopede!
~ Charles Godfrey Leland,#NFDB
401:To The Poet On The Subject Of Flowers
Thus continually towards the dark azure,
Where the sea of topazes shimmers,
Will function in your evening
The Lilies, those pessaries of ectasy!
In our own age sago,
When Plants work for their living,
The Lily will dring blue loathings
From you religious Proses!
- Monsieur de Kerdrel's fleur-de-lys,
The Sonnet of eighteen-thirty,
The Lily they bestow on the Bard
Together with the pink and the amaranth!
Lilies! lilies! None to be seen!
Yet in your Verse, like the sleeves
Of the soft-footed Women of Sin,
Always these white flowers shiver!
Always, Dear Man, when you bathe,
Your shirt with yellow oxters
Swells in the morning breezes
Above the muddy forget-menots!
Love get through your customs
Only Lilacs, - o eye-wash!
And the Wild Violets,
Sugary spittle of the dark Nymphs!...
II
O Poets, if you had
Roses, blown Roses,
Red upon laurel stems,
And swollen with a thousand octaves!
If Banville would make them snow down,
Blood-tinged, whirling,
215
Blacking the wild eye of the stranger
With his ill-disposed interpretations!
In your forests and in your meadows,
O very peaceful photographers!
The Flora is more or less diverse
Like the stoppers on decanters!
Always those French vegetables,
Cross-gained, phthisical, absurd,
Navigated by the peaceful bellies
Of basset-hounds in twilight;
Always, after frightful drawings
Of blue Lotuses or Sunflowers,
Pink prints, holy pictures
For young girls making their communion!
The Asoka Ode agrees with the
Loretto window stanza form;
And heavy vivid butterflies
Are dunging on the Daisy.
Old greenery, and old galloons!
O vegetable fancy biscuits!
fancy-flowers of old Drawing-rooms!
- For cockchafers, not rattlesnakes,
The pulling vegetable baby dolls
Which Grandville would have put round the margins,
And which sucked in their colours
From ill-natured stars with eyeshades!
Yes, the drooling from your shepherd's pipes
Make some priceless glucoses!
- Pile of fried eggs in hold hats,
Lilies, Asokas, Lilacs and Roses!...
III
O white Hunter, running sockingless
Across the panic Pastures,
216
Can you not, ought you not
To know your botany a little?
I'm afraid you'd make succeed,
To russet Crickets, Cantharides,
And Rio golds to blues of Rhine, In short, to Norways, Floridas:
But, My dear Chap, Art does not consist now,
- it's the truth, - in allowing
To the astonishing Eucalyptus
boa-constrictors a hexameter long;
There now!... As if Mahogany
Served only, even in our Guianas,
As helter-skelters for monkeys,
Among the heavy vertigo of the lianas!
- In short, is a Flower, Rosemary
Or Lily, dead or alive, worth
The excrement of one sea-bird?
Is it worth a solitary candle-drip?
- And I mean what I say!
You, even sitting over there, in a
Bamboo hut, - with the shutters
Closed, and brown Persian rugs for hangings, You would scrawl blossoms
Worthy of extravagant Oise!...
- Poet ! these are reasonnings
No less absurd than arrogant!...
IV
Speak, not of pampas in the spring
Black with terrible revolts,
But of tobacco and cotton trees!
Speak of exotic harvests!
Say, white face which Phoebus has tanned,
How many dollars
217
Pedro Velasquez of Habana ;
Cover with excrement the sea of Sorrento
Where the Swans go in thousands;
Let your lines campaign
For the clearing of the mangrove swamps
Riddled with pools and water-snakes!
Your quatrain plunges into the bloody thickets
And come back to offer to Humanity
Various subjects: white sugar,
Bronchial lozenges, and rubbers!
Let us know though You wheter the yellownesses
Of snow Peaks, near the Tropics,
Are insects which lay many eggs
Or microscopic lichens!
Find, o Hunter, we desire it,
One or two scented madder plants
Which Nature in trousers
May cause to bloom! - fr our Armies!
Find, on the outskirts of the Sleeping Wood,
Flowers, whick look like snouts,
Out of which drip golden pomades
On to the dark hair of buffaloes!
Find, in wild meadows, where on the Blue Grass
Shivers the silver of downy gowths,
Calyxex full of fiery Eggs
Cooking among the essential oils!
Find downy Thistles
Whose wool ten asses with glaring eyes
Labour to spin!
Find Flowers which are chairs!
Yes, find in the heart of coal-black seams
Flowers that are almost stones, - marvellous ones! Which, close to their hard pale ovaries
Bear gemlike tonsils!
218
Srve us, o Stuffer, this you can do,
On a splendid vermilion plate
Stews of syrupy Lilies
To corrode our German-silver spoons!
Someone will speak about great Love,
The thief of black Indulgences:
But neither Renan, nor Murr the cat
Have seen the immense Blue Thyrsuses!
You, quicken in our sluggishness,
By means of scents, hysteria;
Exalt us towards purities
Whiter than the Marys...
tradesman! colonial! Medium!
Your Rhyme will well up, pink or white,
Like a blaze of sodium,
Like a bleeding rubber-tree!
But from your dark Poems, - Juggler!
dioptric white and green and red,
Let strange flowers burst out
And electric butterflies!
See! it's the Century of hell!
And the telegraph poles
Are going to adorn, - the iron-voiced lyre,
Your magnificent shoulder blades!
Above all, give us a rhymed account
Of the potato blight!
- And, in order to compose
Poems full of mystery
Intended to be read from Tréguier
To Paramaribo, go and buy
A few volumes by Monsieur Figuier,
- Illustrated! - at Hachette's !
219
Alcide Bava
Original French
Ce qu'on dit au Poète
à propos de fleurs.
Ainsi, toujours, vers l'azur noir
Où tremble la mer des topazes,
Fonctionneront dans ton soir
Les Lys, ces clystères d'extases !
À notre époque de sagous,
Quand les Plantes sont travailleuses,
Le Lys boira les bleus dégoûts
Dans tes Proses religieuses !
- Le lys de monsieur de Kerdrel,
Le Sonnet de mil huit cent trente,
Le Lys qu'on donne au Ménestrel
Avec l'oeillet et l'amarante !
Des lys ! Des lys ! On n'en voit pas !
Et dans ton Vers, tel que les manches
Des Pécheresses aux doux pas,
Toujours frissonnent ces fleurs blanches !
Toujours, Cher, quand tu prends un bain,
Ta chemise aux aisselles blondes
Se gonfle aux brises du matin
Sur les myosotis immondes !
L'amour ne passe à tes octrois
Que les Lilas, - ô balançoires !
Et les Violettes du Bois,
Crachats sucrés des Nymphes noires !...
220
II
O Poètes, quand vous auriez
Les Roses, les Roses soufflées,
Rouges sur tiges de lauriers,
Et de mille octaves enflées !
Quand Banville en ferait neiger,
Sanguinolentes, tournoyantes,
Pochant l'oeil fou de l'étranger
Aux lectures mal bienveillantes !
De vos forêts et de vos prés,
O très paisibles photographes !
La Flore est diverse à peu près
Comme des bouchons de carafes !
Toujours les végétaux Français,
Hargneux, phtisiques, ridicules,
Où le ventre des chiens bassets
Navigue en paix, aux crépuscules ;
Toujours, après d'affreux dessins
De Lotos bleus ou d'Hélianthes,
Estampes roses, sujets saints
Pour de jeunes communiantes !
L'Ode Açoka cadre avec la
Strophe en fenêtre de lorette ;
Et de lourds papillons d'éclat
Fientent sur la Pâquerette.
Vieilles verdures, vieux galons !
O croquignoles végétales !
Fleurs fantasques des vieux Salons !
- Aux hannetons, pas aux crotales,
Ces poupards végétaux en pleurs
Que Grandville eût mis aux lisières,
Et qu'allaitèrent de couleurs
De méchants astres à visières !
221
Oui, vos bavures de pipeaux
Font de précieuses glucoses !
- Tas d'oeufs frits dans de vieux chapeaux,
Lys, Açokas, Lilas et Roses !...
III
O blanc Chasseur, qui cours sans bas
À travers le Pâtis panique,
Ne peux-tu pas, ne dois-tu pas
Connaître un peu ta botanique ?
Tu ferais succéder, je crains,
Aux Grillons roux les Cantharides,
L'or des Rios au bleu des Rhins, Bref, aux Norwèges les Florides :
Mais, Cher, l'Art n'est plus, maintenant,
- C'est la vérité, - de permettre
À l'Eucalyptus étonnant
Des constrictors d'un hexamètre ;
Là !... Comme si les Acajous
Ne servaient, même en nos Guyanes,
Qu'aux cascades des sapajous,
Au lourd délire des lianes !
- En somme, une Fleur, Romarin
Ou Lys, vive ou morte, vaut-elle
Un excrément d'oiseau marin ?
Vaut-elle un seul pleur de chandelle ?
- Et j'ai dit ce que je voulais !
Toi, même assis là-bas, dans une
Cabane de bambous, - volets
Clos, tentures de perse brune, Tu torcherais des floraisons
Dignes d'Oises extravagantes !...
- Poète ! ce sont des raisons
Non moins risibles qu'arrogantes !...
222
IV
Dis, non les pampas printaniers
Noirs d'épouvantables révoltes,
Mais les tabacs, les cotonniers !
Dis les exotiques récoltes !
Dis, front blanc que Phébus tanna,
De combien de dollars se rente
Pedro Velasquez, Habana ;
Incague la mer de Sorrente
Où vont les Cygnes par milliers ;
Que tes strophes soient des réclames
Pour l'abatis des mangliers
Fouillés des Hydres et des lames !
Ton quatrain plonge aux bois sanglants
Et revient proposer aux Hommes
Divers sujets de sucres blancs,
De pectoraires et de gommes !
Sachons par Toi si les blondeurs
Des Pics neigeux, vers les Tropiques,
Sont ou des insectes pondeurs
Ou des lichens microscopiques !
Trouve, ô Chasseur, nous le voulons,
Quelques garances parfumées
Que la Nature en pantalons
Fasse éclore ! - pour nos Armées !
Trouve, aux abords du Bois qui dort,
Les fleurs, pareilles à des mufles,
D'où bavent des pommades d'or
Sur les cheveux sombres des Buffles !
Trouve, aux prés fous, où sur le Bleu
Tremble l'argent des pubescences,
Des calices pleins d'Oeufs de feu
Qui cuisent parmi les essences !
223
Trouve des Chardons cotonneux
Dont dix ânes aux yeux de braises
Travaillent à filer les noeuds !
Trouve des Fleurs qui soient des chaises !
Oui, trouve au coeur des noirs filons
Des fleurs presque pierres, - fameuses ! Qui vers leurs durs ovaires blonds
Aient des amygdales gemmeuses !
Sers-nous, ô Farceur, tu le peux,
Sur un plat de vermeil splendide
Des ragoûts de Lys sirupeux
Mordant nos cuillers Alfénide !
Quelqu'un dira le grand Amour,
Voleur des sombres Indulgences :
Mais ni Renan, ni le chat Murr
N'ont vu les Bleus Thyrses immenses !
Toi, fais jouer dans nos torpeurs,
Par les parfums les hystéries ;
Exalte-nous vers les candeurs
Plus candides que les Maries...
Commerçant ! colon ! médium !
Ta Rime sourdra, rose ou blanche,
Comme un rayon de sodium,
Comme un caoutchouc qui s'épanche !
De tes noirs Poèmes, - Jongleur !
Blancs, verts, et rouges dioptriques,
Que s'évadent d'étranges fleurs
Et des papillons électriques !
Voilà ! c'est le Siècle d'enfer !
Et les poteaux télégraphiques
Vont orner, - lyre aux chants de fer,
Tes omoplates magnifiques !
224
Surtout, rime une version
Sur le mal des pommes de terre !
- Et, pour la composition
De poèmes pleins de mystère
Qu'on doive lire de Tréguier
À Paramaribo, rachète
Des Tomes de Monsieur Figuier,
- Illustrés ! - chez Monsieur Hachette !
Alcide Bava
~ Arthur Rimbaud,#NFDB
402:Hero And Leander: The Second Sestiad
By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,
Viewing Leander's face, fell down and fainted.
He kissed her and breathed life into her lips,
Wherewith as one displeased away she trips.
Yet, as she went, full often looked behind,
And many poor excuses did she find
To linger by the way, and once she stayed,
And would have turned again, but was afraid,
In offering parley, to be counted light.
So on she goes and in her idle flight
Her painted fan of curled plumes let fall,
Thinking to train Leander therewithal.
He, being a novice, knew not what she meant
But stayed, and after her a letter sent,
Which joyful Hero answered in such sort,
As he had hope to scale the beauteous fort
Wherein the liberal Graces locked their wealth,
And therefore to her tower he got by stealth.
Wide open stood the door, he need not climb,
And she herself before the pointed time
Had spread the board, with roses strowed the room,
And oft looked out, and mused he did not come.
At last he came.
O who can tell the greeting
These greedy lovers had at their first meeting.
He asked, she gave, and nothing was denied.
Both to each other quickly were affied.
Look how their hands, so were their hearts united,
And what he did she willingly requited.
(Sweet are the kisses, the embracements sweet,
When like desires and affections meet,
For from the earth to heaven is Cupid raised,
Where fancy is in equal balance peised.)
Yet she this rashness suddenly repented
And turned aside, and to herself lamented
As if her name and honour had been wronged
By being possessed of him for whom she longed.
Ay, and she wished, albeit not from her heart
That he would leave her turret and depart.
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The mirthful god of amorous pleasure smiled
To see how he this captive nymph beguiled.
For hitherto he did but fan the fire,
And kept it down that it might mount the higher.
Now waxed she jealous lest his love abated,
Fearing her own thoughts made her to be hated.
Therefore unto him hastily she goes
And, like light Salmacis, her body throws
Upon his bosom where with yielding eyes
She offers up herself a sacrifice
To slake his anger if he were displeased.
O, what god would not therewith be appeased?
Like Aesop's cock this jewel he enjoyed
And as a brother with his sister toyed
Supposing nothing else was to be done,
Now he her favour and good will had won.
But know you not that creatures wanting sense
By nature have a mutual appetence,
And, wanting organs to advance a step,
Moved by love's force unto each other lep?
Much more in subjects having intellect
Some hidden influence breeds like effect.
Albeit Leander rude in love and raw,
Long dallying with Hero, nothing saw
That might delight him more, yet he suspected
Some amorous rites or other were neglected.
Therefore unto his body hers he clung.
She, fearing on the rushes to be flung,
Strived with redoubled strength; the more she strived
The more a gentle pleasing heat revived,
Which taught him all that elder lovers know.
And now the same gan so to scorch and glow
As in plain terms (yet cunningly) he craved it.
Love always makes those eloquent that have it.
She, with a kind of granting, put him by it
And ever, as he thought himself most nigh it,
Like to the tree of Tantalus, she fled
And, seeming lavish, saved her maidenhead.
Ne'er king more sought to keep his diadem,
Than Hero this inestimable gem.
Above our life we love a steadfast friend,
Yet when a token of great worth we send,
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We often kiss it, often look thereon,
And stay the messenger that would be gone.
No marvel then, though Hero would not yield
So soon to part from that she dearly held.
Jewels being lost are found again, this never;
'Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost forever.
Now had the morn espied her lover's steeds,
Whereat she starts, puts on her purple weeds,
And red for anger that he stayed so long
All headlong throws herself the clouds among.
And now Leander, fearing to be missed,
Embraced her suddenly, took leave, and kissed.
Long was he taking leave, and loath to go,
And kissed again as lovers use to do.
Sad Hero wrung him by the hand and wept
Saying, 'Let your vows and promises be kept.'
Then standing at the door she turned about
As loath to see Leander going out.
And now the sun that through th' horizon peeps,
As pitying these lovers, downward creeps,
So that in silence of the cloudy night,
Though it was morning, did he take his flight.
But what the secret trusty night concealed
Leander's amorous habit soon revealed.
With Cupid's myrtle was his bonnet crowned,
About his arms the purple riband wound
Wherewith she wreathed her largely spreading hair.
Nor could the youth abstain, but he must wear
The sacred ring wherewith she was endowed
When first religious chastity she vowed.
Which made his love through Sestos to be known,
And thence unto Abydos sooner blown
Than he could sail; for incorporeal fame
Whose weight consists in nothing but her name,
Is swifter than the wind, whose tardy plumes
Are reeking water and dull earthly fumes.
Home when he came, he seemed not to be there,
But, like exiled air thrust from his sphere,
Set in a foreign place; and straight from thence,
Alcides like, by mighty violence
He would have chased away the swelling main
That him from her unjustly did detain.
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Like as the sun in a diameter
Fires and inflames objects removed far,
And heateth kindly, shining laterally,
So beauty sweetly quickens when 'tis nigh,
But being separated and removed,
Burns where it cherished, murders where it loved.
Therefore even as an index to a book,
So to his mind was young Leander's look.
O, none but gods have power their love to hide,
Affection by the countenance is descried.
The light of hidden fire itself discovers,
And love that is concealed betrays poor lovers,
His secret flame apparently was seen.
Leander's father knew where he had been
And for the same mildly rebuked his son,
Thinking to quench the sparkles new begun.
But love resisted once grows passionate,
And nothing more than counsel lovers hate.
For as a hot proud horse highly disdains
To have his head controlled, but breaks the reins,
Spits forth the ringled bit, and with his hooves
Checks the submissive ground; so he that loves,
The more he is restrained, the worse he fares.
What is it now, but mad Leander dares?
'O Hero, Hero! ' thus he cried full oft;
And then he got him to a rock aloft,
Where having spied her tower, long stared he on't,
And prayed the narrow toiling Hellespont
To part in twain, that he might come and go;
But still the rising billows answered, 'No.'
With that he stripped him to the ivory skin
And, crying 'Love, I come,' leaped lively in.
Whereat the sapphire visaged god grew proud,
And made his capering Triton sound aloud,
Imagining that Ganymede, displeased,
Had left the heavens; therefore on him he seized.
Leander strived; the waves about him wound,
And pulled him to the bottom, where the ground
Was strewed with pearl, and in low coral groves
Sweet singing mermaids sported with their loves
On heaps of heavy gold, and took great pleasure
To spurn in careless sort the shipwrack treasure.
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For here the stately azure palace stood
Where kingly Neptune and his train abode.
The lusty god embraced him, called him 'Love,'
And swore he never should return to Jove.
But when he knew it was not Ganymede,
For under water he was almost dead,
He heaved him up and, looking on his face,
Beat down the bold waves with his triple mace,
Which mounted up, intending to have kissed him,
And fell in drops like tears because they missed him.
Leander, being up, began to swim
And, looking back, saw Neptune follow him,
Whereat aghast, the poor soul 'gan to cry
'O, let me visit Hero ere I die! '
The god put Helle's bracelet on his arm,
And swore the sea should never do him harm.
He clapped his plump cheeks, with his tresses played
And, smiling wantonly, his love bewrayed.
He watched his arms and, as they opened wide
At every stroke, betwixt them would he slide
And steal a kiss, and then run out and dance,
And, as he turned, cast many a lustful glance,
And threw him gaudy toys to please his eye,
And dive into the water, and there pry
Upon his breast, his thighs, and every limb,
And up again, and close beside him swim,
And talk of love.
Leander made reply,
'You are deceived; I am no woman, I.'
Thereat smiled Neptune, and then told a tale,
How that a shepherd, sitting in a vale,
Played with a boy so fair and kind,
As for his love both earth and heaven pined;
That of the cooling river durst not drink,
Lest water nymphs should pull him from the brink.
And when he sported in the fragrant lawns,
Goat footed satyrs and upstaring fauns
Would steal him thence. Ere half this tale was done,
'Ay me,' Leander cried, 'th' enamoured sun
That now should shine on Thetis' glassy bower,
Descends upon my radiant Hero's tower.
O, that these tardy arms of mine were wings! '
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And, as he spake, upon the waves he springs.
Neptune was angry that he gave no ear,
And in his heart revenging malice bare.
He flung at him his mace but, as it went,
He called it in, for love made him repent.
The mace, returning back, his own hand hit
As meaning to be venged for darting it.
When this fresh bleeding wound Leander viewed,
His colour went and came, as if he rued
The grief which Neptune felt. In gentle breasts
Relenting thoughts, remorse, and pity rests.
And who have hard hearts and obdurate minds,
But vicious, harebrained, and illiterate hinds?
The god, seeing him with pity to be moved,
Thereon concluded that he was beloved.
(Love is too full of faith, too credulous,
With folly and false hope deluding us.)
Wherefore, Leander's fancy to surprise,
To the rich Ocean for gifts he flies.
'tis wisdom to give much; a gift prevails
When deep persuading oratory fails.
By this Leander, being near the land,
Cast down his weary feet and felt the sand.
Breathless albeit he were he rested not
Till to the solitary tower he got,
And knocked and called. At which celestial noise
The longing heart of Hero much more joys
Than nymphs and shepherds when the timbrel rings,
Or crooked dolphin when the sailor sings.
She stayed not for her robes but straight arose
And, drunk with gladness, to the door she goes,
Where seeing a naked man, she screeched for fear
(Such sights as this to tender maids are rare)
And ran into the dark herself to hide.
(Rich jewels in the dark are soonest spied) .
Unto her was he led, or rather drawn
By those white limbs which sparkled through the lawn.
The nearer that he came, the more she fled,
And, seeking refuge, slipped into her bed.
Whereon Leander sitting thus began,
Through numbing cold, all feeble, faint, and wan.
'If not for love, yet, love, for pity sake,
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Me in thy bed and maiden bosom take.
At least vouchsafe these arms some little room,
Who, hoping to embrace thee, cheerly swum.
This head was beat with many a churlish billow,
And therefore let it rest upon thy pillow.'
Herewith affrighted, Hero shrunk away,
And in her lukewarm place Leander lay,
Whose lively heat, like fire from heaven fet,
Would animate gross clay and higher set
The drooping thoughts of base declining souls
Than dreary Mars carousing nectar bowls.
His hands he cast upon her like a snare.
She, overcome with shame and sallow fear,
Like chaste Diana when Actaeon spied her,
Being suddenly betrayed, dived down to hide her.
And, as her silver body downward went,
With both her hands she made the bed a tent,
And in her own mind thought herself secure,
O'ercast with dim and darksome coverture.
And now she lets him whisper in her ear,
Flatter, entreat, promise, protest and swear;
Yet ever, as he greedily assayed
To touch those dainties, she the harpy played,
And every limb did, as a soldier stout,
Defend the fort, and keep the foeman out.
For though the rising ivory mount he scaled,
Which is with azure circling lines empaled,
Much like a globe (a globe may I term this,
By which love sails to regions full of bliss)
Yet there with Sisyphus he toiled in vain,
Till gentle parley did the truce obtain.
Wherein Leander on her quivering breast
Breathless spoke something, and sighed out the rest;
Which so prevailed, as he with small ado
Enclosed her in his arms and kissed her too.
And every kiss to her was as a charm,
And to Leander as a fresh alarm,
So that the truce was broke and she, alas,
(Poor silly maiden) at his mercy was.
Love is not full of pity (as men say)
But deaf and cruel where he means to prey.
Even as a bird, which in our hands we wring,
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Forth plungeth and oft flutters with her wing,
She trembling strove.
This strife of hers (like that
Which made the world) another world begat
Of unknown joy. Treason was in her thought,
And cunningly to yield herself she sought.
Seeming not won, yet won she was at length.
In such wars women use but half their strength.
Leander now, like Theban Hercules,
Entered the orchard of th' Hesperides;
Whose fruit none rightly can describe but he
That pulls or shakes it from the golden tree.
And now she wished this night were never done,
And sighed to think upon th' approaching sun;
For much it grieved her that the bright daylight
Should know the pleasure of this blessed night,
And them, like Mars and Erycine, display
Both in each other's arms chained as they lay.
Again, she knew not how to frame her look,
Or speak to him, who in a moment took
That which so long so charily she kept,
And fain by stealth away she would have crept,
And to some corner secretly have gone,
Leaving Leander in the bed alone.
But as her naked feet were whipping out,
He on the sudden clinged her so about,
That, mermaid-like, unto the floor she slid.
One half appeared, the other half was hid.
Thus near the bed she blushing stood upright,
And from her countenance behold ye might
A kind of twilight break, which through the hair,
As from an orient cloud, glimpsed here and there,
And round about the chamber this false morn
Brought forth the day before the day was born.
So Hero's ruddy cheek Hero betrayed,
And her all naked to his sight displayed,
Whence his admiring eyes more pleasure took
Than Dis, on heaps of gold fixing his look.
By this, Apollo's golden harp began
To sound forth music to the ocean,
Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heard
But he the bright day-bearing car prepared
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And ran before, as harbinger of light,
And with his flaring beams mocked ugly night,
Till she, o'ercome with anguish, shame, and rage,
Danged down to hell her loathsome carriage.
~ Christopher Marlowe,#NFDB
403:Le Mendiant
C'était quand le printemps a reverdi les prés.
La fille de Lycus, vierge aux cheveux dorés,
Sous les monts Achéens, non loin de Cérynée,
Errait à l'ombre, aux bords du faible et pur Crathis,
Car les eaux du Crathis, sous des berceaux de frêne,
Entouraient de Lycus le fertile domaine.
Soudain, à l'autre bord,
Du fond d'un bois épais, un noir fantôme sort,
Tout pâle, demi-nu, la barbe hérissée:
Il remuait à peine une lèvre glacée,
Des hommes et des dieux implorait le secours,
Et dans la forêt sombre errait depuis deux jours;
Il se traîne, il n'attend qu'une mort douloureuse;
Il succombe. L'enfant, interdite et peureuse,
A ce hideux aspect sorti du fond des bois,
Veut fuir; mais elle entend sa lamentable voix.
Il tend les bras, il tombe à genoux; il lui crie
Qu'au nom de tous les dieux il la conjure, il prie,
Et qu'il n'est point à craindre, et qu'une ardente faim
L'aiguillonne et le tue, et qu'il expire enfin.
'Si, comme je le crois, belle dès ton enfance,
C'est le dieu de ces eaux qui t'a donné naissance,
Nymphe, souvent les voeux des malheureux humains
Ouvrent des immortels les bienfaisantes mains,
Ou si c'est quelque front porteur d'une couronne
Qui te nomme sa fille et te destine au trône,
Souviens-toi, jeune enfant, que le ciel quelquefois
Venge les opprimés sur la tête des rois.
Belle vierge, sans doute enfant d'une déesse,
Crains de laisser périr l'étranger en détresse:
L'étranger qui supplie est envoyé des dieux.'
Elle reste. A le voir, elle enhardit ses yeux,
. . . . . . . . et d'une voix encore
Tremblante: 'Ami, le ciel écoute qui l'implore.
Mais ce soir, quand la nuit descend sur l'horizon,
Passe le pont mobile, entre dans la maison;
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J'aurai soin qu'on te laisse entrer sans méfiance.
Pour la douzième fois célébrant ma naissance,
Mon père doit donner une fête aujourd'hui.
Il m'aime, il n'a que moi: viens t'adresser à lui,
C'est le riche Lycus. Viens ce soir; il est tendre,
Il est humain: il pleure aux pleurs qu'il voit répandre.'
Elle achève ces mots, et, le coeur palpitant,
S'enfuit; car l'étranger sur elle, en l'écoutant,
Fixait de ses yeux creux l'attention avide.
Elle rentre, cherchant dans le palais splendide
L'esclave près de qui toujours ses jeunes ans
Trouvent un doux accueil et des soins complaisants.
Cette sage affranchie avait nourri sa mère;
Maintenant sous des lois de vigilance austère,
Elle et son vieil époux, au devoir rigoureux,
Rangent des serviteurs le cortège nombreux.
Elle la voit de loin dans le fond du portique,
Court, et, posant ses mains sur ce visage antique:
'Indulgente nourrice, écoute: il faut de toi
Que j'obtienne un grand bien. Ma mère, écoute-moi;
Un pauvre, un étranger, dans la misère extrême,
Gémit sur l'autre bord, mourant, affamé, blême...
Ne me décèle point. De mon père aujourd'hui
J'ai promis qu'il pourrait solliciter l'appui.
Fais qu'il entre: et surtout, ô mère de ma mère!
Garde que nul mortel a'insulte à sa misère.
--Oui, ma fille; chacun fera ce que tu veux,
Dit l'esclave en baisant son front et ses cheveux;
Oui, qu'à ton protégé ta fête soit ouverte,
Ta mère, mon élève (inestimable perte!),
Aimait à soulager les faibles abattus;
Tu lui ressembleras autant par tes vertus
Que par tes yeux si doux et tes grâces naïves,'
Mais cependant la nuit assemble les convives:
En habits somptueux, d'essences parfumés,
Ils entrent. Aux lambris d'ivoire et d'or formés
Pend le lin d'Ionie en brillantes courtines;
Le toit s'égaye et rit de mille odeurs divines.
La table au loin circule, et d'apprêts savoureux
Se charge. L'encens vole en longs flots vaporeux:
Sur leurs bases d'argent, des formes animées
Élèvent dans leurs mains des torches enflammées;
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Les figures, l'onyx, le cristal, les métaux
En vases hérissés d'hommes ou d'animaux,
Partout, sur les buffets, sur la table, étincellent;
Plus d'une lyre est prête; et partout s'amoncellent
Et les rameaux de myrte et les bouquets de fleurs.
On s'étend sur les lits teints de mille couleurs;
Près de Lycus, sa fille, idole de la fête,
Est admise. La rose a couronné sa tête.
Mais, pour que la décence impose un juste frein,
Lui-même est par eux tous élu roi du festin.
Et déjà vins, chansons, joie, entretiens sans nombre,
Lorsque, la double porte ouverte, un spectre sombre
Entre, cherchant des yeux l'autel hospitalier.
La jeune enfant rougit. Il court vers le foyer,
Il embrasse l'autel, s'assied parmi la cendre;
Et tous, l'oeil étonné, se taisent pour l'entendre.
'Lycus, fils d'Évémon, que les dieux et le temps
N'osent jamais troubler tes destins éclatants!
Ta pourpre, tes trésors, ton front noble et tranquille,
Semblent d'un roi puissant, l'idole de sa ville.
A ton riche banquet un peuple convié
T'honore comme un dieu de l'Olympe envoyé.
Regarde un étranger qui meurt dans la poussière,
Si tu ne tends vers lui la main hospitalière.
Inconnu, j'ai franchi le seuil de ton palais:
Trop de pudeur peut nuire à qui vit de bienfaits.
Lycus, par Jupiter, par ta fille innocente
Qui m'a seule indiqué ta porte bienfaisante!...
Je fus riche autrefois: mon banquet opulent
N'a jamais repoussé l'étranger suppliant.
Et pourtant aujourd'hui la faim est mon partage,
La faim qui flétrit l'âme autant que le visage,
Par qui l'homme souvent, importun, odieux,
Est contraint de rougir et de baisser les yeux!
--Étranger, tu dis vrai, le hasard téméraire
Des bons ou des méchants fait le destin prospère.
Mais sois mon hôte. Ici l'on hait plus que l'enfer
Le public ennemi, le riche au coeur de fer,
Enfant de Némésis, dont le dédain barbare
Aux besoins des mortels ferme son coeur avare.
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Je rends grâce à l'enfant qui t'a conduit ici.
Ma fille, c'est bien fait; poursuis toujours ainsi.
Respecter l'indigence est un devoir suprême.
Souvent les immortels (et Jupiter lui-même)
Sous des haillons poudreux, de seuil en seuil traînés,
Viennent tenter le coeur des humains fortunés.'
D'accueil et de faveur un murmure s'élève.
Lycus descend, accourt, tend la main, le relève:
'Salut, père étranger; et que puissent tes voeux
Trouver le ciel propice à tout ce que tu veux!
Mon hôte, lève-toi. Tu parais noble et sage;
Mais cesse avec ta main de cacher ton visage.
Souvent marchent ensemble indigence et vertu,
Souvent d'un vil manteau le sage revêtu,
Seul, vit avec les dieux et brave un sort inique.
Couvert de chauds tissus, à l'ombre du portique,
Sur de molles toisons, en un calme sommeil,
Tu peux ici, dans l'ombre, attendre le soleil.
Je te ferai revoir tes foyers, ta patrie,
Tes parents, si les dieux ont épargné leur vie.
Car tout mortel errant nourrit un long amour
D'aller revoir le sol qui lui donna le jour.
Mon hôte, tu franchis le seuil de ma famille
A l'heure qui jadis a vu naître ma fille.
Salut! Vois, l'on t'apporte et la table et le pain:
Sieds-toi. Tu vas d'abord rassasier ta faim.
Puis, si nulle raison ne te force au mystère,
Tu nous diras ton nom, ta patrie et ton père!'
Il retourne à sa place après que l'indigent
S'est assis. Sur ses mains, d'une aiguière d'argent,
Par une jeune esclave une eau pure est versée.
Une table de cèdre, où l'éponge est passée,
S'approche, et vient offrir à son avide main
Et les fumantes chairs sur le disque d'airain,
Et l'amphore vineuse, et la coupe aux deux anses.
'Mange et bois, dit Lycus; oublions les souffrances,
Ami! leur lendemain est, dit-on, un beau jour.'
Bientôt Lycus se lève et fait emplir sa coupe,
Et veut que l'échanson verse à toute la troupe:
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'Pour boire à Jupiter, qui nous daigne envoyer
L'étranger devenu l'hôte de mon foyer.'
Le vin de main en main va coulant à la ronde;
Lycus lui-même emplit une coupe profonde,
L'envoie à l'étranger: 'Salut, mon hôte, bois.
De ta ville bientôt tu reverras les toits,
Fussent-ils par-delà les glaces du Caucase.'
Des mains de l'échanson l'étranger prend le vase,
Se lève et sur eux tous il invoque les dieux.
On boit; il se rassied. Et jusque sur ses yeux
Ses noirs cheveux toujours ombrageant son visage,
De sourire et de plainte il mêle son langage:
'Mon hôte, maintenant que sous tes nobles toits
De l'importun besoin j'ai calmé les abois,
Oserai-je à ma langue abandonner les rênes?
Je n'ai plus ni pays, ni parents, ni domaines.
Mais écoute: le vin, par toi-même versé,
M'ouvre la bouche. Ainsi, puisque j'ai commencé,
Entends ce que peut-être il eût mieux valu taire.
Excuse enfin ma langue, excuse ma prière;
Car du vin, tu le sais, la téméraire ardeur
Souvent à l'excès même enhardit la pudeur.
Meurtri de durs cailloux ou de sables arides,
Déchiré de buissons ou d'insectes avides,
D'un long jeûne flétri, d'un long chemin lassé
Et de plus d'un grand fleuve en nageant traversé,
Je parais énervé, sans vigueur, sans courage;
Mais je suis né robuste et n'ai point passé l'âge.
La force et le travail, que je n'ai point perdus,
Par un peu de repos me vont être rendus.
Emploie alors mes bras à quelques soins rustiques.
Je puis dresser au char tes coursiers olympiques,
Ou, sous les feux du jour, courbé vers le sillon,
Presser deux forts taureaux du piquant aiguillon.
Je puis même, tournant la meule nourricière,
Broyer le pur froment en farine légère.
Je puis, la serpe en main, planter et diriger
Et le cep et la treille, espoir de ton verger.
Je tiendrai la faucille ou la faux recourbée,
Et devant mes pas l'herbe ou la moisson tombée
Viendra remplir ta grange en la belle saison;
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Afin que nul mortel ne dise en ta maison,
Me regardant d'un oeil insultant et colère:
O vorace étranger, qu'on nourrit à rien faire!
--Vénérable indigent, va, nul mortel chez moi
N'oserait élever sa langue contre toi.
Tu peux ici rester, même oisif et tranquille,
Sans craindre qu'un affront ne trouble ton asile.
--L'indigent se méfie.--Il n'est plus de danger.
--L'homme est né pour souffrir.--Il est né pour changer.
--Il change d'infortune!--Ami, reprends courage:
Toujours un vent glacé ne souffle point l'orage.
Le ciel d'un jour à l'autre est humide ou serein,
Et tel pleure aujourd'hui qui sourira demain.
--Mon hôte, en tes discours préside la sagesse.
Mais quoi! la confiante et paisible richesse
Parle ainsi!... L'indigent espère en vain du sort;
En espérant toujours il arrive à la mort.
Dévoré de besoins, de projets, d'insomnie,
Il vieillit dans l'opprobre et dans l'ignominie.
Rebuté des humains durs, envieux, ingrats,
Il a recours aux dieux qui ne l'entendent pas.
Toutefois ta richesse accueille mes misères;
Et puisque ton coeur s'ouvre à la voix des prières.
Puisqu'il sait, ménageant le faible humilié,
D'indulgence et d'égards tempérer la pitié,
S'il est des dieux du pauvre, ô Lycus! que ta vie
Soit un objet pour tous et d'amour et d'envie!
--Je te le dis encore: espérons, étranger.
Que mon exemple au moins serve à t'encourager
Des changements du sort j'ai fait l'expérience.
Toujours un même éclat n'a point à l'indigence
Fait du riche Lycus envier le destin.
J'ai moi-même été pauvre et j'ai tendu la main.
Cléotas de Larisse, en ses jardins immenses,
Offrit à mon travail de justes récompenses.
'Jeune ami, j'ai trouvé quelques vertus en toi;
Va, sois heureux, dit-il, et te souviens de moi.'
Oui, oui, je m'en souviens: Cléotas fut mon père;
Tu vois le fruit des dons de sa bonté prospère.
116
A tous les malheureux je rendrai désormais
Ce que dans mon malheur je dus à ses bienfaits.
Dieux, l'homme bienfaisant est votre cher ouvrage;
Vous n'avez point ici d'autre visible image;
Il porte votre empreinte, il sortit de vos mains
Pour vous représenter aux regards des humains.
Veillez sur Cléotas! Qu'une fleur éternelle,
Fille d'une âme pure, en ses traits étincelle;
Que nombre de bienfaits, ce sont là ses amours,
Fassent une couronne à chacun de ses jours;
Et quand une mort douce et d'amis entourée
Recevra sans douleur sa vieillesse sacrée,
Qu'il laisse avec ses biens ses vertus pour appui
A des fils, s'il se peut, encor meilleurs que lui.
--Hôte des malheureux, le sort inexorable
Ne prend point les avis de l'homme secourable.
Tous, par sa main de fer en aveugles poussés,
Nous vivons; et tes voeux ne sont point exaucés.
Cléotas est perdu; son injuste patrie
L'a privé de ses biens; elle a proscrit sa vie.
De ses concitoyens dès longtemps envié,
De ses nombreux amis en un jour oublié,
Au lieu de ces tapis qu'avait tissus l'Euphrate,
Au lieu de ces festins brillants d'or et d'agate
Où ses hôtes, parmi les chants harmonieux,
Savouraient jusqu'au jour les vins délicieux,
Seul maintenant, sa faim, visitant les feuillages,
Dépouille les buissons de quelques fruits sauvages;
Ou, chez le riche altier apportant ses douleurs,
Il mange un pain amer tout trempé de ses pleurs.
Errant et fugitif, de ses beaux jours de gloire
Gardant, pour son malheur, la pénible mémoire,
Sous les feux du midi, sous le froid des hivers,
Seul, d'exil en exil, de déserts en déserts,
Pauvre et semblable à moi, languissant et débile,
Sans appui qu'un bâton, sans foyer, sans asile,
Revêtu de ramée ou de quelques lambeaux,
Et sans que nul mortel attendri sur ses maux
D'un souhait de bonheur le flatte et l'encourage;
Les torrents et la mer, l'aquilon et l'orage,
Les corbeaux, et des loups les tristes hurlements
117
Répondant seuls la nuit à ses gémissements;
N'ayant d'autres amis que les bois solitaires,
D'autres consolateurs que ses larmes amères,
Il se traîne; et souvent sur la pierre il s'endort
A la porte d'un temple, en invoquant la mort.
--Que m'as-tu dit? La foudre a tombé sur ma tête.
Dieux! ah! grands dieux! partons. Plus de jeux, plus de fête!
Partons. Il faut vers lui trouver des chemins sûrs;
Partons. Jamais sans lui je ne revois ces murs.
Ah! dieux! quand dans le vin, les festins, l'abondance,
Enivré des vapeurs d'une folle opulence,
Celui qui lui doit tout chante, et s'oublie, et rit,
Lui peut-être il expire, affamé, nu, proscrit,
Maudissant, comme ingrat, son vieil ami qui l'aime.
Parle: était-ce bien lui? le connais-tu toi-même?
En quels lieux était-il? où portait-il ses pas?
Il sait où vit Lycus, pourquoi ne vient-il pas?
Parle: était-ce bien lui? parle, parle, te dis-je;
Où l'as-tu vu?--Mon hôte, à regret je t'afflige.
C'était lui, je l'ai vu ........................
.........................Les douleurs de son âme
Avaient changé ses traits. Ses deux fils et sa femme
A Delphes, confiés au ministre du dieu,
Vivaient de quelques dons offerts dans le saint lieu.
Par des sentiers secrets fuyant l'aspect des villes,
On les avait suivis jusques aux Thermopyles.
Il en gardait encore un douloureux effroi.
Je le connais; je fus son ami comme toi.
D'un même sort jaloux une même injustice
Nous a tous deux plongés au même précipice.
Il me donna jadis (ce bien seul m'est resté)
Sa marque d'alliance et d'hospitalité.
Vois si tu la connais.' De surprise immobile,
Lycus a reconnu son propre sceau d'argile;
Ce sceau, don mutuel d'immortelle amitié,
Jadis à Cléotas par lui-même envoyé.
Il ouvre un oeil avide, et longtemps envisage
L'étranger. Puis enfin sa voix trouve un passage.
'Est-ce toi, Cléotas? toi qu'ainsi je revoi?
Tout ici t'appartient. O mon père! est-ce toi?
118
Je rougis que mes yeux aient pu te méconnaître.
Cléotas! ô mon père! ô toi qui fus mon maître,
Viens; je n'ai fait ici que garder ton trésor,
Et ton ancien Lycus veut te servir encor;
J'ai honte à ma fortune en regardant la tienne.'
Et, dépouillant soudain la pourpre tyrienne
Que tient sur son épaule une agrafe d'argent,
Il l'attache lui-même à l'auguste indigent.
Les convives levés l'entourent; l'allégresse
Rayonne en tous les yeux. La famille s'empresse;
On cherche des habits, on réchauffe le bain.
La jeune enfant approche; il rit, lui tend la main:
'Car c'est toi, lui dit-il, c'est toi qui, la première,
Ma fille, m'as ouvert la porte hospitalière.'
~ Andre Marie de Chenier,#NFDB
404:Le Forgeron (The Blacksmith)
Le bras sur un marteau gigantesque, effrayant
D'ivresse et de grandeur, le front large, riant
Comme un clairon d'airain, avec toute sa bouche,
Et prenant ce gros-là dans son regard farouche,
Le Forgeron parlait à Louis Seize, un jour
Que le Peuple était là, se tordant tout autour,
Et sur les lambris d'or traînait sa veste sale.
Or le bon roi, debout sur son ventre, était pâle
Pâle comme un vaincu qu'on prend pour le gibet,
Et, soumis comme un chien, jamais ne regimbait,
Car ce maraud de forge aux énormes épaules
Lui disait de vieux mots et des choses si drôles,
Que cela l'empoignait au front, comme cela !
'Donc, Sire, tu sais bien, nous chantions tra la la
Et nous piquions les boeufs vers les sillons des autres :
Le Chanoine au soleil disait ses patenôtres
Sur des chapelets clairs grenés de pièces d'or.
Le Seigneur, à cheval, passait, sonnant du cor,
Et l'un avec la hart, l'autre avec la cravache,
Nous fouaillaient ; Hébétés comme des yeux de vache,
Nos yeux ne pleuraient pas : nous allions ! nous allions !
Et quand nous avions mis le pays en sillons,
Quand nous avions laissé dans cette terre noire
Un peu de notre chair... nous avions un pourboire :
- Nous venions voir flamber nos taudis dans la nuit ;
Nos enfants y faisaient un gâteau fort bien cuit !...
'Oh ! je ne me plains pas. Je te dis mes bêtises :
- C'est entre nous. J'admets que tu me contredises...
Or, n'est-ce pas joyeux de voir, au mois de juin
Dans les granges entrer des voitures de foin
Enormes ? De sentir l'odeur de ce qui pousse,
Des vergers quand il pleut un peu, de l'herbe rousse ?
De voir les champs de blé, les épis pleins de grain,
De penser que cela prépare bien du pain ?...
- Oui, l'on pourrait, plus fort, au fourneau qui s'allume,
Chanter joyeusement en martelant l'enclume,
Si l'on était certain qu'on pourrait prendre un peu,
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Étant homme, à la fin !, de ce que donne Dieu !...
- Mais voilà, c'est toujours la même vieille histoire !
'... Oh ! je sais, maintenant ! Moi, je ne peux plus croire,
Quand j'ai deux bonnes mains, mon front et mon marteau,
Qu'un homme vienne là, dague sous le manteau
Et me dise : Maraud, ensemence ma terre ;
Que l'on arrive encor, quand ce serait la guerre,
Me prendre mon garçon comme cela, chez moi !...
- Moi, je serais un homme, et toi tu serais roi,
Tu me dirais : Je veux ! - Tu vois bien, c'est stupide !...
Tu crois que j'aime à voir ta baraque splendide,
Tes officiers dorés, tes mille chenapans,
Tes palsembleu bâtards tournant comme des paons ?
Ils ont rempli ton nid de l'odeur de nos filles,
Et de petits billets pour nous mettre aux Bastilles,
Et nous dirions : C'est bien : les pauvres à genoux !...
Nous dorerions ton Louvre en donnant nos gros sous,
Et tu te soûlerais, tu ferais belle fête,
Et tes Messieurs riraient, les reins sur notre tête !...
'Non ! Ces saletés-là datent de nos papas !
Oh ! Le Peuple n'est plus une putain ! Trois pas,
Et, tous, nous avons mis ta Bastille en poussière !
Cette bête suait du sang à chaque pierre...
Et c'était dégoûtant, la Bastille debout
Avec ses murs lépreux qui nous rappelaient tout
Et, toujours, nous tenaient enfermés dans leur ombre !
- Citoyen ! citoyen ! c'était le passé sombre
Qui croulait, qui râlait, quand nous prîmes la tour !
Nous avions quelque chose au coeur comme l'amour :
Nous avions embrassé nos fils sur nos poitrines,
Et, comme des chevaux, en soufflant des narines,
Nous marchions, nous chantions, et ça nous battait là,
Nous allions au soleil, front haut, comme cela,
Dans Paris accourant devant nos vestes sales !...
Enfin ! Nous nous sentions hommes ! Nous étions pâles,
Sire ; nous étions soûls de terribles espoirs,
Et quand nous fûmes là, devant les donjons noirs,
Agitant nos clairons et nos feuilles de chêne,
Les piques à la main ; nous n'eûmes pas de haine :
- Nous nous sentions si forts ! nous voulions être doux !
72
'Et depuis ce jour-là, nous sommes comme fous...
Le flot des ouvriers a monté dans la rue
Et ces maudits s'en vont, foule toujours accrue,
Comme des revenants, aux portes des richards !...
Moi, je cours avec eux assommer les mouchards,
Et je vais dans Paris le marteau sur l'épaule,
Farouche, à chaque coin balayant quelque drôle,
Et, si tu me riais au nez, je te tuerais !...
- Puis, tu dois y compter, tu te feras des frais
Avec tes avocats, qui prennent nos requêtes
Pour se les renvoyer comme sur des raquettes,
Et, tout bas, les malins ! Nous traitant de gros sots !
Pour mitonner des lois, ranger des de petits pots
Pleins de menus décrets, de méchantes droguailles,
S'amuser à couper proprement quelques tailles,
Puis se boucher le nez quand nous passons près d'eux,
- Ces chers avocassiers qui nous trouvent crasseux ! Pour débiter là-bas des milliers de sornettes
Et ne rien redouter sinon les baïonnettes,
Nous en avons assez, de tous ces cerveaux plats !
Ils embêtent le peuple !... Ah ! ce sont là les plats
Que tu nous sers, bourgeois, quand nous sommes féroces,
Quand nous cassons déjà les sceptres et les crosses !...'
Puis il le prend au bras, arrache le velours
Des rideaux, et lui montre, en bas, les larges cours
Où fourmille, où fourmille, où se lève la foule,
La foule épouvantable avec des bruits de houle,
Hurlant comme une chienne, hurlant comme une mer,
Avec ses bâtons forts et ses piques de fer,
Ses clameurs, ses grands cris de halles et de bouges,
Tas sombre de haillons taché de bonnets rouges !
L'Homme, par la fenêtre ouverte, montre tout
Au Roi pâle, suant qui chancelle debout,
Malade à regarder cela !...
spacespacespacespacespacespacespacespace'C'est la Crapule,
Sire ! ça bave aux murs, ça roule, ça pullule...
- Puisqu'ils ne mangent pas, Sire, ce sont les gueux !
- Je suis un forgeron : ma femme est avec eux :
Folle ! Elle vient chercher du pain aux Tuileries :
- On ne veut pas de nous dans les boulangeries !...
73
J'ai trois petits ; -Je suis crapule ! - Je connais
Des vieilles qui s'en vont pleurant sous leurs bonnets,
Parce qu'on leur a pris leur garçon ou leur fille :
- C'est la crapule. - Un homme était à la bastille,
D'autres étaient forçats ; c'étaient des citoyens
Honnêtes ; Libérés, ils sont comme des chiens ;
On les insulte ! Alors, ils ont là quelque chose
Qui leur fait mal, allez ! C'est terrible, et c'est cause
Que, se sentant brisés, que, se sentant damnés,
Ils viennent maintenant hurler sous votre nez !...
- Crapules : - Là-dedans sont des filles, infâmes
Parce que -, sachant bien que c'est faible, les femmes,
Messeigneurs de la cour, que ça veut toujours bien, Vous leur avez sali leur âme, comme rien !
Vos belles, aujourd'hui, sont là : - C'est la Crapule...
'Oh ! tous les Malheureux, tout ceux dont le dos brûle
Sous le soleil féroce, et qui vont, et qui vont,
Et dans ce travail-là sentent crever leur front,
Chapeau bas, mes bourgeois ! Oh ! ceux-là sont les hommes !
- Nous sommes Ouvriers ! Sire, Ouvriers ! - nous sommes
Pour les grands temps nouveaux où l'on voudra savoir,
Où l'homme forgera du matin jusqu'au soir,
Où, lentement vainqueur, il chassera les choses
Poursuivant les grands buts, cherchant les grandes causes,
Et montera sur Tout comme sur un cheval !
Oh ! nous sommes contents, nous aurons bien du mal !
- Tout ce qu'on ne sait pas, c'est peut-être terrible.
Nous pendrons nos marteaux, nous passerons au crible
Tout ce que nous savons, puis, Frères, en avant !...
- Nous faisons quelquefois ce grand rêve émouvant
De vivre simplement, ardemment, sans rien dire
De mauvais, travaillant sous l'auguste sourire
D'une femme qu'on aime avec un noble amour !
Et l'on travaillerait fièrement tout le jour,
Ecoutant le devoir comme un clairon qui sonne :
Et l'on se trouverait fort heureux, et personne,
Oh ! personne ! surtout, ne vous ferait plier !...
On aurait un fusil au-dessus du foyer....
'Oh ! mais ! l'air est tout plein d'une odeur de bataille !
Que te disais-je donc ? Je suis de la canaille !'
74
_____________________________________________________
Translation by A. S. Kline
His hand on a gigantic hammer, terrifying
In size and drunkenness, vast-browed, laughing
Like a bronze trumpet, his whole mouth displayed,
Devouring the fat man, now, with his wild gaze,
The Blacksmith spoke with Louis, with the king,
The People there, all around him, cavorting,
Trailing their dirty coats down gilded panels.
But the dear king, belly upright, was pallid,
Pale as the victim led to the guillotine,
Submissive like a dog, cowed by the scene,
Since that wide-shouldered forge-black soul
Spoke of things past and other things so droll,
He had him by the short hairs, just like that!
‘Now, Sir, you know how we’d sing tra-la-la,
And drive the ox down other people’s furrows:
The Canon spun paternosters in the shadows
On rosaries bright with golden coins adorned,
Some Lord, astride, passed blowing on his horn,
One with the noose, another with whip-blows
Lashed us on. – Dazed like the eyes of cows,
Our eyes no longer wept; on and on we went,
And when we’d ploughed a whole continent,
When we had left behind in that black soil
A little of our own flesh…to reward our toil:
They’d set alight our hovels in the night;
Our little ones made burnt cakes alright.
…Oh, I’m not complaining! All my follies,
They’re between us. I’ll let you contradict.
But, isn’t it fine to see, in the month of June,
The enormous hay-wains entering the barns?
To smell the odour of burgeoning things,
The orchards in fine rain, the oats reddening?
To see wheat, wheat, ears filled with grain,
To think it promises us good bread again?...
Oh! You’d go to the forge, be more cheerful,
Sing and hammer joyfully at the anvil,
75
If you were sure to gain a little in the end –
Being, in fact, a man – of what God intends!
– But there it is, always the same old story!...
But now I know! I don’t credit it any more,
Owning two strong hands, a head, a hammer,
That a man in a cloak, wearing a dagger
Can say: go and sow my land, there, fellow;
Or that another, if maybe war should follow,
Can take my son like that, from where I’m living!
– Suppose I were a man, and you a king,
You’d say: I will it!... – What stupidity.
You think your splendid barn pleases me,
Your gilded servants, your thousand rogues,
Your fancy bastards, peacocks in a row:
Filling your nest with our daughters’ odour,
Warrants to the Bastille for us, moreover
That we should say: fine: make the poor poorer!
We’ll give you our last sous to gild the Louvre!
While you get drunk and enjoy the feast,
– And they all laugh, riding our backs beneath!
No. Those puerilities were our fathers!
The People is no one’s whore now, three steps further
And then, we razed your Bastille to the ground.
That monster sweated blood from every mound,
Was an abomination, that Bastille standing,
With leprous walls its every story yielding,
And, we forever held fast in its shadow!
– Citizen! That was the past, its sorrow,
That broke, and died, when we stormed the tower!
We had something in our hearts like true ardour.
We had clutched our children to our breast.
And like chargers, snorting at the contest,
We went, proud and strong, beating here inside…
We marched in the sun – like this – heads high
Into Paris! They greeted us in our ragged clothes.
At last! We felt ourselves Men! We were sallow,
Sire, drunk, and pallid with terrifying hopes:
And there, in front of those black prison slopes,
Waving our bugles and our sprigs of oak,
Pikes in our fists; did we feel hatred, no!
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– We felt such strength we wanted to be gentle! ...
And since that day, we have proved elementals!
A mass of workers sprang up in the street,
And, cursed, are gone, a swelling crowd replete
With ghostly shades, to haunt the rich man’s gate.
I, I run with them, and set informers straight:
I scour Paris, dark-faced, wild, hammer on shoulder,
Sweeping something droll out of every corner,
And, if you smile at me, then I’ll do for you!
– Well, count on it: all this is going to cost you
And your men in black, culling our requests
To bat them about on their racquets all in jest,
And whisper, the rascals, softly: “Oh, what sots!”
To cook up laws, and stick up little pots,
Filled with cute pink decrees, and sugar pills,
Cutting us down to size, to amuse themselves,
Then they hold their noses when we pass by,
– Our kind representatives who hate the sty! –
Fearful of nothing, nothing, but bayonets….
That’s fine. Enough of snuff and lorgnettes!
We’ve had our fill, here, of those dull heads
And bellies of gods. Ah! That’s the bread
You serve us, bourgeoisie, while we rage here,
While we shatter the sceptre and the crozier!...’
He takes his arm, tears back the velvet curtain
And shows the vast courtyards beneath them,
Where the mob swarms, and seethes, where rise,
Out of the frightful mob those storm-filled cries,
Howling as bitches howl, or like the sea,
With their knotted stakes, their pikes of steel,
With the clamour of their market-halls and slums,
A ragged mass of blood-stained caps, and drums:
The Man, through the open window, shows all
To the pale sweating king, reeling, about to fall,
Sick at the sight of it!
‘Those are the Scum, Sire.
Licking the walls, seething, rising higher:
– But then they’ve not eaten, Sire, these beggars!
I’m a blacksmith: my wife, madwoman, is there!
She thinks she’ll get bread at the Tuileries!
77
– They’ll have none of us in the bakeries.
I’ve three youngsters. I’m scum, too – I know
Old women weeping under their bonnets so
Because they’ve taken a daughter or a son:
One man was in the Bastille – oh, they’re scum –
Another the galleys: both honest citizens.
Freed, they’re treated like dogs, these men:
Insulted! Then, they have something here
That hurts them, see! It’s terrible, it’s clear
They feel broken, feel themselves damned,
There, screaming beneath you where you stand!
Scum. – Down there girls, infamous, shriek,
Because – well, you knew girls were weak –
Gentlemen of the court – gave all you sought –
You’d spit on their souls, as if they were naught!
Now, your pretty ones are there. They’re scum.
Oh, all the Wretched, whose backs, in the fierce sun
Burn, and yet they still work on and on,
Feeling their heads burst with their exertion,
Hats off, you bourgeoisie! Those are Men.
We are the Workers, Sire! Workers! And then
We’re for the great new age, of knowledge, light,
When Man will forge from morning to night,
Pursuing great effects, chasing great causes,
When he will tame things, slowly victorious,
And like a horse, mount the mighty All!
Oh! Splendour of the forges! And no more
Evil, then! – What’s unknown, its terror maybe
We’ll know! – Hammer in hand, let’s sieve freely
All that we know: then, Brothers, we’ll go on!
Sometimes we dream that dream’s vast emotion
Of the simple ardent life, where you revile
All evil, working beneath the august smile,
Of a woman you love with love’s nobility:
And all day long you labour on proudly,
Hearing the clarion call of duty sounding!
And you feel so happy; and nothing, nothing,
Oh, above all, no-one makes you kneel!
Over the fireplace, there, you’d have a rifle…
Oh! But the air is filled with the scent of battle.
78
What did I say? I too am one of the rascals!
And there are still sharks and informers.
But we are free! With our moments of terror
When we feel we are great, so great! Just now
I was talking of peaceful work, of how…
Look at that sky! – Too small for us, you see,
If we feared the heat, we’d live on our knees!
Look at that sky! – I’ll return to the crowd,
To the vast fearful mob who cry aloud
And roll your cannon through the cobbles’ sty;
– Oh! We will wash them clean when we die!
– And if, against our cries and our vengeance,
The claws of old gilded kings, all over France,
Urge on their regiments in full battle-dress,
Well then, you lot? Shit to those dogs, no less!’
– He shoulders his hammer once more.
The crowd
Feels soul-drunk close to that man, and now
Through the great courtyard, all those rooms,
Where Paris pants and the voices boom,
A shudder shakes the immense populace.
Then, with his broad hand, its grimy grace
Gilded, while the pot-bellied king sweats,
The Blacksmith set his red cap on that head!
~ Arthur Rimbaud,#NFDB
405:Les Heures Claires
O la splendeur de notre joie,
Tissée en or dans l'air de soie!
Voici la maison douce et son pignon léger,
Et le jardin et le verger.
Voici le banc, sous les pommiers
D'où s'effeuille le printemps blanc,
A pétales frôlants et lents.
Voici des vols de lumineux ramiers
Plânant, ainsi que des présages,
Dans le ciel clair du paysage.
Voici--pareils à des baisers tombés sur terre
De la bouche du frêle azur-Deux bleus étangs simples et purs,
Bordés naïvement de fleurs involontaires.
O la splendeur de notre joie et de nous-mêmes,
En ce jardin où nous vivons de nos emblèmes!
Là-bas, de lentes formes passent,
Sont-ce nos deux âmes qui se délassent,
Au long des bois et des terrasses?
Sont-ce tes seins, sont-ce tes yeux
Ces deux fleurs d'or harmonieux?
Et ces herbes--on dirait des plumages
Mouillés dans la source qu'ils plissent-Sont-ce tes cheveux frais et lisses?
Certes, aucun abri ne vaut le clair verger,
Ni la maison au toit léger,
Ni ce jardin, où le ciel trame
Ce climat cher à nos deux âmes.
Quoique nous le voyions fleurir devant nos yeux,
Ce jardin clair où nous passons silencieux,
C'est plus encore en nous que se féconde
186
Le plus joyeux et le plus doux jardin du monde.
Car nous vivons toutes les fleurs,
Toutes les herbes, toutes les palmes
En nos rires et en nos pleurs
De bonheur pur et calme.
Car nous vivons toutes les transparences
De l'étang bleu qui reflète l'exubérance
Des roses d'or et des grands lys vermeils:
Bouches et lèvres de soleil.
Car nous vivons toute la joie
Dardée en cris de fête et de printemps,
En nos aveux, où se côtoient
Les mots fervents et exaltants.
Oh! dis, c'est bien en nous que se féconde
Le plus joyeux et clair jardin du monde.
Ce chapiteau barbare, où des monstres se tordent,
Soudés entre eux, à coups de griffes et de dents,
En un tumulte fou de sang, de cris ardents,
De blessures et de gueules qui s'entre-mordent,
C'était moi-même, avant que tu fusses la mienne,
O toi la neuve, ô toi l'ancienne!
Qui vins à moi des loins d'éternité,
Avec, entre tes mains, l'ardeur et la bonté.
Je sens en toi les mêmes choses très profondes
Qu'en moi-même dormir
Et notre soif de souvenir
Boire l'écho, où nos passés se correspondent.
Nos yeux ont dû pleurer aux mêmes heures,
Sans le savoir, pendant l'enfance:
Avoir mêmes effrois, mêmes bonheurs,
Mêmes éclairs de confiance:
Car je te suis lié par l'inconnu
Qui me fixait, jadis au fond des avenues
Par où passait ma vie aventurière,
Et, certes, si j'avais regardé mieux,
187
J'aurais pu voir s'ouvrir tes yeux
Depuis longtemps en ses paupières.
Le ciel en nuit s'est déplié
Et la lune semble veiller
Sur le silence endormi.
Tout est si pur et clair,
Tout est si pur et si pâle dans l'air
Et sur les lacs du paysage ami,
Qu'elle angoisse, la goutte d'eau
Qui tombe d'un roseau
Et tinte et puis se tait dans l'eau.
Mais j'ai tes mains entre les miennes
Et tes yeux sûrs, qui me retiennent,
De leurs ferveurs, si doucement;
Et je te sens si bien en paix de toute chose,
Que rien, pas même un fugitif soupçon de crainte,
Ne troublera, fût-ce un moment,
La confiance sainte
Qui dort en nous comme un enfant repose.
Chaque heure, où je pense à ta bonté
Si simplement profonde,
Je me confonds en prières vers toi.
Je suis venu si tard
Vers la douceur de ton regard
Et de si loin, vers tes deux mains tendues,
Tranquillement, par à travers les étendues!
J'avais en moi tant de rouille tenace
Qui me rongeait, à dents rapaces,
La confiance;
J'étais si lourd, j'étais si las,
J'étais si vieux de méfiance,
J'étais si lourd, j'étais si las
Du vain chemin de tous mes pas.
Je méritais si peu la merveilleuse joie
188
De voir tes pieds illuminer ma voie,
Que j'en reste tremblant encore et presqu'en pleurs,
Et humble, à tout jamais, en face du bonheur.
Tu arbores parfois cette grâce bénigne
Du matinal jardin tranquille et sinueux
Qui déroule, là-bas, parmi les lointains bleus,
Ses doux chemins courbés en cols de cygne.
Et, d'autres fois, tu m'es le frisson clair
Du vent rapide et miroitant
Qui passe, avec ses doigts d'éclair,
Dans les crins d'eau de l'étang blanc.
Au bon toucher de tes deux mains,
Je sens comme des feuilles
Me doucement frôler;
Que midi brûle le jardin.
Les ombres, aussitôt recueillent
Les paroles chères dont ton être a tremblé.
Chaque moment me semble, grâce à toi,
Passer ainsi divinement en moi.
Aussi, quand l'heure vient de la nuit blême,
Où tu te cèles en toi-même,
En refermant les yeux,
Sens-tu mon doux regard dévotieux,
Plus humble et long qu'une prière,
Remercier le tien sous tes closes paupières?
Oh! laisse frapper à la porte
La main qui passe avec ses doigts futiles;
Notre heure est si unique, et le reste qu'importe,
Le reste, avec ses doigts futiles.
Laisse passer, par le chemin,
La triste et fatigante joie,
Avec ses crécelles en mains.
Laisse monter, laisse bruire
Et s'en aller le rire;
Laisse passer la foule et ses milliers de voix.
189
L'instant est si beau de lumière,
Dans le jardin, autour de nous,
L'instant est si rare de lumière trémière,
Dans notre coeur, au fond de nous.
Tout nous prêche de n'attendre plus rien
De ce qui vient ou passe,
Avec des chansons lasses
Et des bras las par les chemins.
Et de rester les doux qui bénissons le jour.
Même devant la nuit d'ombre barricadée,
Aimant en nous, par dessus tout, l'idée
Que bellement nous nous faisons de notre amour.
Comme aux âges naïfs, je t'ai donné mon coeur,
Ainsi qu'une ample fleur
Qui s'ouvre, au clair de la rosée;
Entre ses plis frêles, ma bouche s'est posée.
La fleur, je la cueillis au pré des fleurs en flamme;
Ne lui dis rien: car la parole entre nous deux
Serait banale, et tous les mots sont hasardeux.
C'est à travers les yeux que l'âme écoute une âme.
La fleur qui est mon coeur et mon aveu,
Tout simplement, à tes lèvres confie
Qu'elle est loyale et claire et bonne, et qu'on se fie
Au vierge amour, comme un enfant se fie à Dieu.
Laissons l'esprit fleurir sur les collines,
En de capricieux chemins de vanité;
Et faisons simple accueil à la sincérité
Qui tient nos deux coeurs clairs, en ses mains cristallines;
Et rien n'est beau comme une confession d'âmes,
L'une à l'autre, le soir, lorsque la flamme
Des incomptables diamants
Brûle, comme autant d'yeux
Silencieux,
Le silence des firmaments.
190
Le printemps jeune et bénévole
Qui vêt le jardin de beauté
Elucide nos voix et nos paroles
Et les trempe dans sa limpidité.
La brise et les lèvres des feuilles
Babillent--et effeuillent
En nous les syllabes de leur clarté.
Mais le meilleur de nous se gare
Et fuit les mots matériels;
Un simple et doux élan muet
Mieux que tout verbe amarre
Notre bonheur à son vrai ciel:
Celui de ton âme, à deux genoux,
Tout simplement, devant la mienne,
Et de mon âme, à deux genoux,
Très doucement, devant la tienne.
Viens lentement t'asseoir
Près du parterre, dont le soir
Ferme les fleurs de tranquille lumière,
Laisse filtrer la grande nuit en toi:
Nous sommes trop heureux pour que sa mer d'effroi
Trouble notre prière.
Là-haut, le pur cristal des étoiles s'éclaire.
Voici le firmament plus net et translucide
Qu'un étang bleu ou qu'un vitrail d'abside;
Et puis voici le ciel qui regarde à travers.
Les mille voix de l'énorme mystère
Parlent autour de toi.
Les mille lois de la nature entière
Bougent autour de toi,
Les arcs d'argent de l'invisible
Prennent ton âme et son élan pour cible,
Mais tu n'as peur, oh! simple coeur,
Mais tu n'as peur, puisque ta foi
Est que toute la terre collabore
A cet amour que fit éclore
La vie et son mystère en toi.
191
Joins donc les mains tranquillement
Et doucement adore;
Un grand conseil de pureté
Et de divine intimité
Flotte, comme une étrange aurore,
Sous les minuits du firmament.
Combien elle est facilement ravie,
Avec ses yeux d'extase ignée,
Elle, la douce et résignée
Si simplement devant la vie.
Ce soir, comme un regard la surprenait fervente,
Et comme un mot la transportait
Au pur jardin de joie, où elle était
Tout à la fois reine et servante.
Humble d'elle, mais ardente de nous,
C'était à qui ploierait les deux genoux,
Pour recueillir le merveilleux bonheur
Qui, mutuel, nous débordait du coeur.
Nous écoutions se taire, en nous, la violence
De l'exaltant amour qu'emprisonnaient nos bras
Et le vivant silence
Dire des mots que nous ne savions pas.
Au temps où longuement j'avais souffert
Où les heures m'étaient des pièges,
Tu m'apparus l'accueillante lumière
Qui luit, aux fenêtres, l'hiver,
Au fonds des soirs, sur de la neige.
Ta clarté d'âme hospitalière
Frôla, sans le blesser, mon coeur,
Comme une main de tranquille chaleur;
Un espoir tiède, un mot clément,
Pénétrèrent en moi très lentement;
Puis vint la bonne confiance
Et la franchise et la tendresse et l'alliance,
192
Enfin, de nos deux mains amies,
Un soir de claire entente et de douce accalmie.
Depuis, bien que l'été ait succédé au gel,
En nous-mêmes et sous le ciel,
Dont les flammes éternisées
Pavoisent d'or tous les chemins de nos pensées,
Et que l'amour soit devenu la fleur immense,
Naissant du fier désir,
Qui, sans cesse, pour mieux encor grandir,
En notre coeur, se recommence,
Je regarde toujours la petite lumière
Qui me fut douce, la première.
Je ne détaille pas, ni quels nous sommes
L'un pour l'autre, ni les pourquois, ni les raisons:
Tout doute est mort, en ce jardin de floraisons
Qui s'ouvre en nous et hors de nous, si loin des hommes.
Je
Et
Et
Et
ne raisonne pas, et ne veux pas savoir,
rien ne troublera ce qui n'est que mystère
qu'élans doux et que ferveur involontaire
que tranquille essor vers nos parvis d'espoir.
Je te sens claire avant de te comprendre telle;
Et c'est ma joie, infiniment,
De m'éprouver si doucement aimant,
Sans demander pourquoi ta voix m'appelle.
Soyons simples et bons--et que le jour
Nous soit tendresse et lumière servies,
Et laissons dire que la vie
N'est point faite pour un pareil amour.
A ces reines qui lentement descendent
Les escaliers en ors et fleurs de la légende,
Dans mon rêve, parfois, je t'apparie;
Je te donne des noms qui se marient
A la clarté, à la splendeur et à la joie,
Et bruissent en syllabes de soie,
Au long des vers bâtis comme une estrade
Pour la danse des mots et leurs belles parades.
193
Mais combien vite on se lasse du jeu,
A te voir douce et profonde et si peu
Celle dont on enjolive les attitudes;
Ton front si clair et pur et blanc de certitude,
Tes douces mains d'enfant en paix sur tes genoux,
Tes seins se soulevant au rythme de ton pouls
Qui bat comme ton coeur immense et ingénu,
Oh! comme tout, hormis cela et ta prière,
Oh! comme tout est pauvre et vain, hors la lumière
Qui me regarde et qui m'accueille en tes yeux nus.
Je dédie à tes pleurs, à ton sourire,
Mes plus douces pensées,
Celles que je te dis, celles aussi
Qui demeurent imprécisées
Et trop profondes pour les dire.
Je dédie à tes pleurs, à ton sourire
A toute ton âme, mon âme,
Avec ses pleurs et ses sourires
Et son baiser.
Vois-tu, l'aurore naît sur la terre effacée,
Des liens d'ombre semblent glisser
Et s'en aller, avec mélancolie;
L'eau des étangs s'écoule et tamise son bruit,
L'herbe s'éclaire et les corolles se déplient,
Et les bois d'or se désenlacent de la nuit.
Oh! dis, pouvoir un jour,
Entrer ainsi dans la pleine lumière;
Oh! dis, pouvoir un jour
Avec toutes les fleurs de nos âmes trémières,
Sans plus aucun voile sur nous,
Sans plus aucun mystère en nous,
Oh dis, pouvoir, un jour,
Entrer à deux dans le lucide amour!
Je noie en tes deux yeux mon âme toute entière
Et l'élan fou de cette âme éperdue,
Pour que, plongée en leur douceur et leur prière,
194
Plus claire et mieux trempée, elle me soit rendue.
S'unir pour épurer son être,
Comme deux vitraux d'or en une même abside
Croisent leurs feux différemment lucides
Et se pénètrent!
Je suis parfois si lourd, si las,
D'être celui qui ne sait pas
Etre parfait, comme il se veut!
Mon coeur se bat contre ses voeux,
Mon coeur dont les plantes mauvaises,
Entre des rocs d'entêtement,
Dressent, sournoisement,
Leurs fleurs d'encre ou de braise;
Mon coeur si faux, si vrai, selon les jours,
Mon coeur contradictoire,
Mon coeur exagéré toujours
De joie immense ou de crainte attentatoire.
Pour nous aimer des yeux,
Lavons nos deux regards, de ceux
Que nous avons croisés, par milliers, dans la vie
Mauvaise et asservie.
L'aube est en fleur et en rosée
Et en lumière tamisée
Très douce:
On croirait voir de molles plumes
D'argent et de soleil, à travers brumes,
Frôler et caresser, dans le jardin, les mousses.
Nos bleus et merveilleux étangs
Tremblent et s'animent d'or miroitant,
Des vols émeraudés, sous les arbres, circulent;
Et la clarté, hors des chemins, des clos, des haies,
Balaie
La cendre humide, où traîne encor le crépuscule.
Au clos de notre amour, l'été se continue:
Un paon d'or, là-bas traverse une avenue;
Des pétales pavoisent,
195
--Perles, émeraudes, turquoises-L'uniforme sommeil des gazons verts;
Nos étangs bleus luisent, couverts
Du baiser blanc des nénuphars de neige;
Aux quinconces, nos groseillers font des cortèges;
Un insecte de prisme irrite un coeur de fleur;
De merveilleux sous-bois se jaspent de lueurs;
Et, comme des bulles légères, mille abeilles
Sur des grappes d'argent, vibrent, au long des treilles.
L'air est si beau qu'il paraît chatoyant;
Sous les midis profonds et radiants,
On dirait qu'il remue en roses de lumière;
Tandis qu'au loin, les routes coutumières,
Telles de lents gestes qui s'allongent vermeils,
A l'horizon nacré, montent vers le soleil.
Certes, la robe en diamants du bel été
Ne vêt aucun jardin d'aussi pure clarté;
Et c'est la joie unique éclose en nos deux âmes
Qui reconnait sa vie en ces bouquets de flammes.
Que tes yeux clairs, tes yeux d'été,
Me soient, sur terre,
Les images de la bonté.
Laissons nos âmes embrasées
Exalter d'or chaque flamme de nos pensées.
Que mes deux mains contre ton coeur
Te soient, sur terre,
Les emblèmes de la douceur.
Vivons pareils à deux prières éperdues
L'une vers l'autre, à toute heure, tendues.
Que nos baisers sur nos bouches ravies
Nous soient sur terre,
Les symboles de notre vie.
Dis-moi, ma simple et ma tranquille amie,
196
Dis, combien l'absence, même d'un jour,
Attriste et attise l'amour
Et le réveille, en ses brûlures endormies.
Je m'en vais au devant de ceux
Qui reviennent des lointains merveilleux,
Où, dès l'aube, tu es allée;
Je m'assieds sous un arbre, au détour de l'allée,
Et, sur la route, épiant leur venue,
Je regarde et regarde, avec ferveur, leurs yeux
Encore clairs de t'avoir vue.
Et je voudrais baiser leurs doigts qui t'ont touchée,
Et leur crier des mots qu'ils ne comprendraient pas,
Et j'écoute longtemps se cadencer leurs pas
Vers l'ombre, où les vieux soirs tiennent la nuit penchée.
En ces heures où nous sommes perdus
Si loin de tout ce qui n'est pas nous-mêmes.
Quel sang lustral ou quel baptême
Baigne nos coeurs vers tout l'amour tendus?
Joignant les mains, sans que l'on prie,
Tendant les bras, sans que l'on crie,
Mais adorant on ne sait quoi
De plus lointain et de plus pur que soi,
L'esprit fervent et ingénu,
Dites, comme on se fond, comme on se vit dans l'inconnu.
Comme on s'abîme en la présence
De ces heures de suprême existence,
Comme l'âme voudrait des cieux
Pour y chercher de nouveaux dieux,
Oh! l'angoissante et merveilleuse joie
Et l'espérance audacieuse
D'être, un jour, à travers la mort même, la proie
De ces affres silencieuses.
Oh! ce bonheur
Si rare et si frêle parfois
Qu'il nous fait peur!
197
Nous avons beau taire nos voix,
Et nous faire comme une tente,
Avec toute ta chevelure,
Pour nous créer un abri sûr,
Souvent l'angoisse en nos âmes fermente.
Mais notre amour étant comme un ange à genoux,
Prie et supplie,
Que l'avenir donne à d'autres que nous
Même tendresse et même vie,
Pour que leur sort de notre sort ne soit jaloux.
Et puis, aux jours mauvais, quand les grands soirs
Illimitent, jusques au ciel, le désespoir,
Nous demandons pardon à la nuit qui s'enflamme
De la douceur de notre âme.
Vivons, dans notre amour et notre ardeur,
Vivons si hardiment nos plus belles pensées
Qu'elles s'entrelacent, harmonisées
A l'extase suprême et l'entière ferveur.
Parce qu'en nos âmes pareilles,
Quelque chose de plus sacré que nous
Et de plus pur et de plus grand s'éveille,
Joignons les mains pour l'adorer à travers nous.
Il n'importe que nous n'ayons que cris ou larmes
Pour humblement le définir,
Et que si rare et si puissant en soit le charme,
Qu'à le goûter, nos coeurs soient prêts à défaillir.
Restons quand même et pour toujours, les fous
De cet amour presqu'implacable,
Et les fervents, à deux genoux,
Du Dieu soudain qui règne en nous,
Si violent et si ardemment doux
Qu'il nous fait mal et nous accable.
Sitôt que nos bouches se touchent,
Nous nous sentons tant plus clairs de nous-mêmes
198
Que l'on dirait des Dieux qui s'aiment
Et qui s'unissent en nous-mêmes;
Nous nous sentons le coeur si divinement frais
Et si renouvelé par leur lumière
Première
Que l'univers, sous leur clarté, nous apparaît.
La joie est à nos yeux l'unique fleur du monde
Qui se prodigue et se féconde,
Innombrable, sur nos routes d'en bas;
Comme là haut, par tas,
En des pays de soie où voyagent des voiles
Brille la fleur myriadaire des étoiles.
L'ordre nous éblouit, comme les feux, la cendre,
Tout nous éclaire et nous paraît: flambeau;
Nos plus simples mots ont un sens si beau
Que nous les répétons pour les sans cesse entendre.
Nous sommes les victorieux sublimes
Qui conquérons l'éternité,
Sans nul orgueil et sans songer au temps minime:
Et notre amour nous semble avoir toujours été.
Pour que rien de nous deux n'échappe à notre étreinte,
Si profonde qu'elle en est sainte
Et qu'à travers le corps même, l'amour soit clair,
Nous descendons ensemble au jardin de ta chair.
Tes seins sont là, ainsi que des offrandes,
Et tes deux mains me sont tendues;
Et rien ne vaut la naïve provende
Des paroles dites et entendues.
L'ombre des rameaux blancs voyage
Parmi ta gorge et ton visage
Et tes cheveux dénouent leur floraison,
En guirlandes, sur les gazons.
La nuit est toute d'argent bleu,
La nuit est un beau lit silencieux,
199
La nuit douce, dont les brises vont, une à une,
Effeuiller les grands lys dardés au clair de lune.
Bien que déjà, ce soir,
L'automne
Laisse aux sentes et aux orées,
Comme des mains dorées,
Lentes, les feuilles choir;
Bien que déjà l'automne,
Ce soir, avec ses bras de vent,
Moissonne
Sur les rosiers fervents,
Les pétales et leur pâleur,
Ne laissons rien de nos deux âmes
Tomber soudain avec ces fleurs.
Mais tous les deux autour des flammes
De l'âtre en or du souvenir,
Mais tous les deux blottissons-nous,
Les mains au feu et les genoux.
Contre les deuils à craindre ou à venir,
Contre le temps qui fixe à toute ardeur sa fin,
Contre notre terreur, contre nous-mêmes, enfin,
Blottissons-nous, près du foyer,
Que la mémoire en nous fait flamboyer.
Et si l'automne obère
A grands pans d'ombre et d'orages plânants,
Les bois, les pelouses et les étangs,
Que sa douleur du moins n'altère
L'intérieur jardin tranquillisé,
Où s'unissent, dans la lumière,
Les pas égaux de nos pensées.
Le don du corps, lorsque l'âme est donnée
N'est rien que l'aboutissement
De deux tendresses entraînées
L'une vers l'autre, éperdûment.
Tu n'es heureuse de ta chair
Si simple, en sa beauté natale,
200
Que pour, avec ferveur, m'en faire
L'offre complète et l'aumône totale.
Et je me donne à toi, ne sachant rien
Sinon que je m'exalte à te connaître,
Toujours meilleure et plus pure peut-être
Depuis que ton doux corps offrit sa fête au mien.
L'amour, oh! qu'il nous soit la clairvoyance
Unique, et l'unique raison du coeur,
A nous, dont le plus fol bonheur
Est d'être fous de confiance.
Fût-il en nous une seule tendresse,
Une pensée, une joie, une promesse,
Qui n'allât, d'elle-même, au devant de nos pas?
Fût-il une prière en secret entendue,
Dont nous n'ayons serré les mains tendues
Avec douceur, sur notre sein?
Fût-il un seul appel, un seul dessein,
Un voeu tranquille ou violent
Dont nous n'ayons épanoui l'élan?
Et, nous aimant ainsi,
Nos coeurs s'en sont allés, tels des apôtres,
Vers les doux coeurs timides et transis
Des autres:
Ils les ont conviés, par la pensée,
A se sentir aux nôtres fiancés,
A proclamer l'amour avec des ardeurs franches,
Comme un peuple de fleurs aime la même branche
Qui le suspend et le baigne dans le soleil;
Et notre âme, comme agrandie, en cet éveil,
S'est mise à célébrer tout ce qui aime,
Magnifiant l'amour pour l'amour même,
Et à chérir, divinement, d'un désir fou,
Le monde entier qui se résume en nous.
Le beau jardin fleuri de flammes
Qui nous semblait le double ou le miroir,
201
Du jardin clair que nous portions dans l'âme,
Se cristallise en gel et or, ce soir.
Un grand silence blanc est descendu s'asseoir
Là-bas, aux horizons de marbre,
Vers où s'en vont, par défilés, les arbres
Avec leur ombre immense et bleue
Et régulière, à côté d'eux.
Aucun souffle de vent, aucune haleine.
Les grands voiles du froid,
Se déplient seuls, de plaine en plaine,
Sur des marais d'argent ou des routes en croix.
Les étoiles paraissent vivre.
Comme l'acier, brille le givre,
A travers l'air translucide et glacé.
De clairs métaux pulvérisés
A l'infini, semblent neiger
De la pâleur d'une lune de cuivre.
Tout est scintillement dans l'immobilité.
Et c'est l'heure divine, où l'esprit est hanté
Par ces mille regards que projette sur terre,
Vers les hasards de l'humaine misère,
La bonne et pure et inchangeable éternité.
S'il arrive jamais
Que nous soyons, sans le savoir,
Souffrance ou peine ou désespoir,
L'un pour l'autre; s'il se faisait
Que la fatigue ou le banal plaisir
Détendissent en nous l'arc d'or du haut désir;
Si le cristal de la pure pensée
De notre amour doit se briser,
Si malgré tout, je me sentais
Vaincu pour n'avoir pas été
Assez en proie à la divine immensité
De la bonté;
Alors, oh! serrons-nous comme deux fous sublimes
Qui sous les cieux cassés, se cramponnent aux cimes
202
Quand même.--Et d'un unique essor
L'âme en soleil, s'exaltent dans la mort.
~ Emile Verhaeren,#NFDB
406:The Bush
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,
That like a haze about your silence clings,
Moulding your void until we seem to see
Tangible Presences of Deathless Things,
Patterned but little to our spirits' woof,
Yet from our love or hate not all aloof,
Can. be the matrix where are forming slowly
Troy tales of Old Australia, to refine
Eras to come of ordered melancholy
'Neath lily-pale Perfection's anodyne.
For Troy hath ever been, and Homer sang
Its younger story for a lodging's fee,
While o'er Scamander settlers' axes rang
Amid the Bush where Ilium was to be.
For Cretan Art, dim centuries before,
Minoan Dream-times some Briseis bore.
Sumerian Phoebus by a willowed water
Song-built a Troy for far Chaldea, where
The sons of God, beholding Leda's daughter,
Bartered eternal thrones for love of her.
Across each terraced aeon Time hath sowed
With green tautology of vanished years,
Gaping aghast or webbed with shining lode,
Achilles' anger's earthquake-rift appears.
The towers that Phoebus builds can never fall:
Desire that Helen lights can never pall:
Yea, wounded Love hath still but gods to fly to,
When lust of war inflames Diomedes:
Must some Australian Hector vainly die, too?
Captives in ships? (0 change that omen, Trees!)
Yea, Mother Bush, in your deep dreams abide
Cupids alert for man and maid unborn,
Apprentice Pucks amid your saplings hide,
And wistful gorges wait a Roland horn:
Wallet of Sigurd shall this swag replace,
And centaurs curvet where those brumbies race.
39
That drover's tale of love shall greaten duly
Through magic prisms of a myriad years,
Till bums Isolde to Tristram's fervour newly,
Or Launcelot to golden Guinevere's.
The miner cradling washdirt by the creek,
Or pulled through darkness dripping to the plat:
The navvy boring tunnels through the peak:
The farmer grubbing box-trees on the flat:
The hawker camping by the roadside spring:
The hodman on the giddy scaffolding:
Moths that around the fashion windows flutter:
The racecourse spider and the betting fly:
The children romping by the city gutter,
While baby crows to every passer-byFrom these rough blocks strewn o'er our ancient stream
Sculptors shall chisel brownie, fairy, faun,
Any myrmidons of some Homeric dream
From Melbourne mob and Sydney push be drawn.
The humdrum lives that now we tire of, then
Romance shall be, and 'we heroic men
Treading the vestibule of Golden Ages,
The Isthmus of the Land of Heart's Desire:
For lo! the Sybil's final volume's pages
Ope with our Advent, close when we expire.
Forgetful Change in one 'antiquity'
Boreal gleams shall drown, and southern glows;
Out of some singing woman's heart-break plea
Australia's dawn shall flush with Sappho's rose:
Strong Shirlow's hand shall trace Mantegna's line,
And Soma foam from Victor Daley's wine:
Scholars to be our prehistoric drama
From Esson's 'Woman Tamer' shall restore,
Or find in Gilbert's 'Lotus Stream and Lama'
An Austral Nile and Buddhas we adore.
The sunlit Satyrs follow Hugh McCrae,
Quinn spans the ocean with a Celtic ford,
And Williamson the Pan-pipe learns to play
From magpie-songs our schoolboy ears ignored:
40
A sweeter woe no keen of Erin gave
Than Kendall sings o'er Araluen's grave:
Tasmanian Wordsworth to his chapel riding
The Burning Bush and Ardath mead shall pass,
Or, from the sea-coast of Bohemia gliding
On craft of dream, behold a shepherd lass.
Jessie Mackay on Southern Highlands sees
The elves deploy in kem and gallowglass:
Our Gilbert Murray writes 'Euripides':
Pirani merges in Pythagoras:
Marsyas plunges into Lethe, flayed,
From Rhadamanthine Stephens' steady blade:
While Benvenuto Morton, drunk with singing,
Sees salamanders in a bush-fire's bed,
And Spencer sails from Alcheringa bringing
Intaglios, totems and Books of the Dead.
On Southern fiords shall Brady's Long Snakes hiss,
Heavy with brides he wins to Viking troth:
O'Reilly's Sydney shall be Sybaris,
While Melbourne's Muses sup their Spartan broth:
Murdoch, Zenobia's counsellor, in time,
Redacts from Burke his book on The Sublime:
By Way was Homer into Greek translated:
And Shakespeare's self is Sophocles so plain
They know the kerb whereon the Furies waited
Outside the Mermaid Inn in Brogan's Lane.
Vane shall divide with Vern Eureka's fame;
Tillett and Mann are Tyler then and Cade:
Dowie's entwines with Cagliostro's name,
And in Tarpeia's, lo, those fair forms fade
Who drug the poor, for social bread and wine,
And lift the furtive latch to Catiline:
There, where the Longmore-featured Gracchi hurry,
And Greek-browed Higinbotham walks, anon,
The 'wealthy lower orders' leap the Murray
Before the stockwhip cracks of Jardine Don.
Cleons in 'Windsor dress at Syracuse
Their thin plebeians' promised meal delay;
41
And Archibald begets Australia's Muse
Upon an undine red of Chowder Bay:
Paterson's swan draws Amphitrite's car,
And Sidon learns from Young what purples are:
Rose Scott refutes dogmatic Cyril gaily,
Hypatia turns the anti-suffrage flank,
And Herod's daughter sools her 'morning daily'
On John the Baptist by the Yarra Bank.
Yon regal bustard, fading hence ere long,
Shall seem the guide we followed to the Grail;
This lyre-bird on his dancing-mound of song
Our mystagogue of some Bacchantic vale,
Where feathered Pan guffaws 'Evoe!' above,
And Maenad curlews shriek their midnight love:
That trailing flight of distant swans is bearing
Sarpedon's soul to its eternal joy:
This ibis, from the very Nile, despairing,
Memnon our own would warn from fatal Troy.
Primeval gnomes distilled the golden bribes
That have impregnated your musing waste with men;
But shall the spell of your pathetic tribes
Curl round, in time, our fairer limbs again?
Through that long tunnel of your gloom, I see
Gardens of a metropolis to be!
Out of the depths the mountain ash is soaring
To embryon gods of what unsounded space?
Out of the heights what influence is pouring
Thin desolation on your haunted face?
Many there are who see no higher lot
For all your writhing centuries of toil
Than that the avaricious plough should blot
Their wilding burgeon, and the red brand spoil
Your cyclopean garniture, to sow
The cheap parterres of Europe on your woe.
They weave all sorceries but yours, and borrow
The tinkling spells of alien winds and seas
To drown the chord of purifying sorrow,
Bom ere the world, that pulses through your trees.
42
For, save when we, in not o'er-subtle mood,
Hear magpies warbling soft November in,
Or, hand in hand with Love, a dreaming wood
Or bouldered crest of crisper April win,
Your harps, unblurred by glozing strings, intone
The dirges that behind Creation moan'Where, riding reinless billows, new lives dash on
The souring beach of yesterday's decay,
Where Love's chord leaps from mandrake shrieks of passion,
And groping gods mould man from quivering clay.
(Is Nature deaf and blind and dumb? A cruse
Unfilled of wine? Clay for an unbreathed soul?
Alien to man, till his desires transfuse
Their flames through wind and water, leaf and bole,
And each crude fane elaborately fit
With oracles that echo all his wit?
The living wilds of Greece saw death returning
When Pan that men had made fell from his throne:
Till through her sap our very blood is churning
The Bush her lonely alien woe shall moan!
Or is she reticent but to be kind?
Whispers she not beneath her mask of clods'Who asks he shall receive, who seeks shall find,
Who knocks shall open every door of God's?'
Dumb Faith's, blind Hope's eternal consort she,
Gravid with all that is on earth to be;
Corn, wine and oil in hungry granite hiding,
All Beauty under sober wings of clay,
All life beneath her dead heart long abiding,
Yea, all the gods her sons and she obey!)
What sin's wan expiation strewed your Vast
With mounded pillage of what conquering fire?
Slumbering throes of what prodigious Past
Exhale these lingering ghosts of its desire?
Sunshine that bleached corruption out, that glare?
Desolate blue of Purgatory, there?
Flagellant winds through guilty Eden scouring?
Sahara drowning Prester John's domain?
Satumian dam her progeny devouring?
Hath dawn-time Hun these footprints left? Hath Cain?
43
Even the human wave, that shall at length
To man's endurance key your strident surge,
Sings in your poignant tones and sombre strength,
And makes, as yet, its own your primal dirge:
A gun-shot startles dawn back from the sky,
And mourning tea-trees echo Gordon's sigh:
Nardoo with Burke's faint sweat is dank for ever:
Spectral a tribe round poisoned rations shrieks:
Till doomday Leichhardt walks die Never Never:
Pensive, of Boake, the circling stock-whip speaks.
The wraiths unseen of roadside crimes unnamed
About that old-time shanty's ruins roam:
This squatter's fenceless acres hide ashamed
The hearth and battered zinc of Naboth's home:
Deserted 'yam-holes' pit your harmonies
With sloughing pock-marks of the gold-disease:
The sludgy creek 'mid hungry rushes rambles,
Where teal once dived and lowan raised her mound:
That tree, with crows, o'erlooks the township shambles:
These paddocks, ordure-smeared, the city bound.
0 yield not all to factory and farm!
For we, who drew a milk no stranger knows
From her scant paps, yearn for the acrid charm
That gossamers the Bush Where No Tree Grows.
And we have ritual moments when we crave
For worship in some messmate-pillared nave,
Where contrite 'bears' for woodland sins are kneeling,
And, 'mid the censers of the mountain musk,
Acolyte bell-birds the Angelus are pealing,
And boobooks moan lone vespers in the dusk,
And you have Children of the Dreaming Star,
Who care but little for the crowded ways
Where meagre spirits' vapid prizes are,
Or for the paddocked ease of dreamless days
And hedges clipped of every sunny growth
That plights the soul to God in daily troth:
Their wayward love prefers your desolation,
Or (where the human trail hath seared its charm)
44
The briar-rose on some abandoned 'station',
To all the tilled obedience of the farm.
Vineyards that purblind thrift shall never glean
The weedy waste and thistly gully hold:
No mint shall melt to currency unclean
Yon river-rounded hillock's Cape-broom gold:
The onion-grass upon that dark green slope
Returns our gaze from eyes of heliotrope:
But more we seek your underflowered expanses
Of scrub monotonous, or, where, O Bush,
The craters of your fiery noon's romances,
Like great firm bosoms, through the bare plains push.
As many. Mother, are your moods and forms
As all the sons who love you. Here, you mow
Careering grounds for every brood of storms
The wild sea-mares to desert stallions throw;
Anon, up through a sea of sand you glance
With green ephemeral exuberance,
And then quick seeds dive deep to years of slumber
From hot-hoofed drought's precipitate return:
There, league on league, the snow's cold fingers number
The shrinking nerves of supple-jack and fern.
To other eyes and ears you are a great
Pillared cathedral tremulously green,
An odorous and hospitable gate
To genial mystery, the happy screen
Of truants or of lovers rambling there
'Neath sun-shot boughs o'er miles of maidenhair.
Wee rubies dot the leaflets of the cherries,
The wooing wagtails hop from log to bough,
The bronzewing comes from Queensland for the berries,
The bell-bird by the creek is calling now.
And you can ride, an Eastern queen, they say,
By living creatures sumptuously borne,
With all barbaric equipages gay,
Beneath the torrid blue of Capricorn.
That native lotus is the very womb
That was the Hindoo goddess' earthly tomb.
45
The gang-gang screams o'er cactus wildernesses,
Palm trees are there, and swampy widths of rice,
Unguents and odours ooze from green recesses,
The jungles blaze with birds of Paradise.
But I, in city exile, hear you sing
Of saplinged hill and box-tree dotted plain,
Or silver-grass that prays the North Wind's wing
Convey its sigh to the loitering rain:
And Spring is half distraught with wintry gusts,
Summer the daily spoil of tropic lusts
The sun and she too fiercely shared together
Lingering thro' voluptuous Hindoo woods,
But o'er my windless, soft autumnal weather
The peace that passes understanding broods.
When, now, they say 'The Bush!', I see the top
Delicate amber leanings of the gum
Flutter, or flocks of screaming green leeks drop
Silent, where in the shining morning hum
The gleaning bees for honey-scented hours
'Mid labyrinthine leaves and white gum flowers.
Cantering midnight hoofs are nearing, nearing,
The straining bullocks flick the harpy flies,
The 'hatter' weeds his melancholy clearing,
The distant cow-bell tinkles o'er the rise.
You are the brooding comrade of our way,
Whispering rumour of a new Unknown,
Moulding us white ideals to obey,
Steeping whate'er we learn in lore your own,
And freshening with unpolluted light
The squalid city's day and pallid night,
Till we become ourselves distinct, Australian,
(Your native lightning charging blood and nerve),
Stripped to the soul of borrowed garments, alien
To that approaching Shape of God you serve.
Brooding, brooding, your whispers murmur plain
That searching for the clue to mystery
In grottos of decrepitude is vain,
That never shall the eye of prophet see
46
In crooked Trade's tumultuous streets the plan
Of templed cities adequate to man.
Brooding, brooding, you make us Brahmins waiting
(While uninspired pass on the hurtling years),
Faithful to dreams your spirit is creating,
Till Great Australia, born of you, appears.
For Great Australia is not yet: She waits
(Where o'er the Bush prophetic auras play)
The passing of these temporary States,
Flaunting their tawdry flags of far decay.
Her aureole above the alien mists
Beacons our filial eyes to mountain trysts:
'Mid homely trees with all ideals fruited,
She shelters us till Trade's Simoom goes by,
And slakes our thirst from cisterns unpolluted .
For ages cold in brooding deeps of sky.
We love our brothers, and to heal their woe
Pluck simples from the known old gardens still:
We love our kindred over seas, and grow
Their symbols tenderly o'er plain and hill;
We feel their blood rebounding in our hearts,
And speak as they would speak our daily parts:
But under all we know, we know that only
A virgin womb unsoiled by ancient fear
Can Saviours bear. So, we, your Brahmins, lonely,
Deaf to the barren tumult, wait your Year.
The Great Year's quivering dawn pencils the Night
To be the morning of our children's prime,
And weave from rays of yet ungathered Light
A richer noon than e'er apparelled Time.
If it must be, as Tuscan wisdom knew,
Babylon's seer, and wistful Egypt too,
That mellow afternoon shall pensive guide us
Down somnolent Decay's ravine to rest,
Then you, reborn, 0 Mother Bush, shall hide us
All the long night at your dream-laden breast.
Australian eyes that heed your lessons know
Another world than older pilgrims may:
47
Prometheus chained in Kosciusko's snow
Sees later gods than Zeus in turn decay:
Boundless plateaux expand the spirit's sight,
Resilient gales uphold her steeper flight:
And your close beating heart, 0 savage Mother,
Throbs secret words of joy and starker pain
Than reach the ears all old deceptions smother
In Lebanon, or e'en in Westermain.
We marvel not, who hear your undersong,
And catch a glimpse in rare exalted hours
Of something like a Being gleam along
Festooned arcades of flossie creeper flowers,
Or, toward the mirk, seem privileged to share
The silent rapture of the trees at prayerWe marvel not that seers in other ages,
With eyes unstrained by peering logic, saw
The desolation glow with Koran pages,
Or Sinai stones with Tables of the Law.
Homers are waiting in the gum trees now,
Far driven from the tarnished Cyclades:
More Druids to your green enchantment bow
Than 'neath unfaithful Mona's vanished trees:
A wind hath spirited from ageing France
To our fresh hills the carpet of Romance:
Heroes and maids of old with young blood tingling
In ampler gardens grow their roses new:
And races long apart their manas mingling
Prepare the cradle of an Advent due.
And those who dig the mounded eld for runes
To read Religion's tangled cipher, here,
Where all Illusion haunts the fainting noons
Of days hysteric with the tireless leer
Of ravenous enamoured suns, shall find
How May a flings her mantle o'er the mind,
Till sober sand to shining water changes,
Dodona whispers from the she-oak groves,
Afreets upon the tempest cross the ranges,
And Fafnir through the bunyip marshes roves.
48
Once, when Uranian Love appeared to glow
Through that abysmal Night that bounds our reignLove that a man may scarcely feel and know i
Quite the same world as other men againWith earthward-streaming frontier wraiths distraught,
Your oracles, 0 Mother Bush, I sought:
But found, dismayed, that eerie light revealing
Those wraiths already in your depths on sleuth,
Termagant Scorns along your hillsides stealing,
Remorse unbaring slow her barbed tooth.
My own thoughts first from far dispersion flew
Back to their sad creator, with the crops
Of woes in flower and all the harvests due
Till tiring Time the fearful seeding stops:
In pigmy forms of friends and foes, anon
In my own image, they came, stung, were gone:
And then I heard the voice of Him Who Questions,
Knowing the faltered answer ere it came,
Chilling the soul by hovering suggestions
Of wan damnation at a wince of blame.
And all your leaves in symbols were arranged,
Despairs long dead would leap from bough to bough,
A gum-tree buttress to a goblin changed
Grinning the warmth of some old broken vow:
Furtive desires for scarce-remembered maids
Glanced in a fearful bo-peep from your shades:
Till you became a purgatory cleansing
With rosy flakes in form of manikins,
To fiercer shame within my soul condensing,
The dim pollution of forgotten sins.
And She, the human symbol of that Love,
Would, as my cleansed eyes forgot their fear,
Comrade beside me. Comforter above,
With sunny smile ubiquitous appear:
Run on before me to the nooks we knew,
Walk hand in hand as glad young lovers do,
Gravely reprove me toying with temptation,
Show me the eyes and ears in roots and clods,
Bend with me o'er some blossom's revelation,
49
Or read from clouds the judgments of the gods.
My old ideals She would tune until
The grating note of self no longer rang:
She drove the birds of gloom and evil will
Out of the cote wherein my poems sang.
Time at Her wand annulled his calendar,
And Space his fallacy of Near and Far,
For through my Bush along with me She glided,
And crowded days of Beauty made more fair,
Though lagging weeks and ocean widths divided
Her mortal casing from Her Presence there.
Her wetted finger oped my shuttered eyes
To boyhood's scership of the Real again:
Upon the Bush descended from the skies
The rapt-up Eden of primordial men:
August Dominions through the vistas strode:
On white-maned clouds the smiling cherubs rode:
Maltreated Faith restored my jangled hearing
Till little seraphs sang from chip and clod:
And prayers were radiant children that, unfearing,
Floated as kisses to the lips of God.
It matters not that for some purpose wise
Myopic Reason censored long ago
The revelations of that Paradise,
When, back of all I feel or will or know,
Its silent angels beacon through the Dark
And point to harbours new my drifted ark.
Nor need we dread the fogs that round us thicken
Questing the Bush for Grails decreed for man,
When Powers our fathers saw unseen still quicken
Eyes that were ours before the world began.
'Twas then I saw the Vision of the Ways,
And 'mid their gloom and glory seemed to live,
Threaded the coverts of the Dark Road's maze,
Toiled up, with tears, the Track Retributive,
And, on the Path of Grace, beheld aglow
The love-lit Nave of all that wheeled below.
And She who flowered, my Mystic Rose, in Heaven,
50
And lit the Purging Mount, my Guiding Star,
Trudged o'er the marl, my mate, through Hell's wan levin,
Nor shrank, like lonely Dante's love, afar.
High towered a cloud over one leafy wild,
And to a bridged volcano grew. Above,
A great Greek group of father, mother, child,
Illumed a narrow round with radiant love.
Below, a smoke-pool thick with faces swirled,
The mutinous omen. of an Under-world,
Defeated, plundered, blackened, but preparing,
E'en though that calm, white dominance fell down,
To overflow the rim, and, sunward faring,
Shape myriad perfect groups from slave and clown.
Or thus I read the symbol, though 'twas sent
To hound compunction on my wincing pride,
That dreamed of raceless brotherhood, content
Though all old Charm dissolved and Glory died.
For often signs will yield their deeper signs,
Virginal Bush, in your untrodden shrines,
Than where the craven ages' human clamour
Distorts the boldest oracle with fear,
Or where dissolving wizards dew with glamour
Arden, Broceliande, or Windermere.
Once while my mother by a spreading tree
Our church's sober rubric bade me con,
My vagrant eyes among the boughs would see
Forbidden wings and •wizard aprons on
Father's 'wee people' from their Irish glades
Brighten and darken with your lights and shades.
And I would only read again those stern leaves
For whispered bribe that, when their tale I told,
We would go and look for fairies in the fern-leaves
And red-capped leprechauns with crocks of gold.
Anon, my boyhood saw how Sunbursts flamed
Or filmy hinds lured on a pale Oisin,
Where lithe indignant saplings crowding claimed
The digger's ravage for their plundered queen:
And heard within yon lichened 'mullock-heap'
51
Lord Edward's waiting horsemen moan in sleep:
Or flew the fragrant path of swans consoling
Lir's exiled daughter wandering with me,
And traced below the Wattle River rolling
Exuberant and golden toward the sea.
Here, would the •wavering wings of heat uplift
Some promontory till the tree-crowned pile
Above a phantom sea would swooning drift,
St. Brendan's vision of the Winged Isle:
Anon, the isle divides again, again,
Till archipelagos poise o'er the main.
There, lazy fingers of a breeze have scattered
The distant blur of factory chimney smoke
hi poignant groups of all the young lives shattered
To feed the ravin of a piston-stroke!
Or when I read the tale of what you were
Beyond these hungry eyes' home-keeping view,
I peopled petrel rocks with Sirens fair,
In Maid Mirage the Fairy Morgan knew,
Steered Quetzalcoatl's skiff to coral coasts,
On Chambers' Pillar throned the Olympian hosts,
Heard in white sulphur-crested parrots' screeches
Remorseful Peris vent their hopeless rage,
Atlantis' borders traced on sunken beaches,
m Alcheringa found the Golden Age.
Sibyl and Siren, with alternate breaths
You read our foetal nation's boon and bane,
And lure to trysts of orgiastic Deaths
Adventurous love that listens to your strain:
Pelsarts and Vanderdeckens of the world
Circle your charms or at your feet are hurled:
And, Southern witch, whose glamour drew De Quiros
O'er half the earth for one unyielded kiss,
Were yours the arms that healed the scalded Eros
When Psyche's curious lamp darkened their bliss?
Ye, who would challenge when we claim to see
The bush alive with Northern wealth of wings,
Forget that at a common mother's knee
52
We learned, with you, the lore of Silent Things.
There is no New that is not older far
Than swirling cradle of the first-born star:
Our youngest hearts prolong the far pulsation
And churn the brine of the primordial sea:
The foetus writes the précis of Creation:
Australia is the whole world's legatee.
Imagination built her throne in us
Before your present bodies saw the sky:
Your myths were counters of our abacus,
And in your brain developed long our eye:
We from the misty folk have also sprung
Who saw the gnomes and heard the Ever Young:
Do Southern skies the fancy disinherit
Of moly flower and Deva-laden breeze?
Do nerves attuned by old defect and merit
Their timbre lose by crossing tropic seas?
All mysteries ye claim as yours alone
Have wafted secrets over oceans here:
Our living soil Antiquity hath sown
With just the corn and tares ye love and fear:
Romance and song enthral us just as you,
Nor change of zenith changes spirit too:
Our necks as yours are sore with feudal halters:
To the Pole ye know our compasses are set;
And shivering years that huddled round your altars
Beneath our stars auspicious tremble yet.
Who fenced the nymphs in European vales?
Or Pan tabooed from all but Oxford dreams?
Warned Shakespeare off from foreign Plutarch's tales?
Or tethered Virgil to Italian themes?
And when the body sailed from your control
Think ye we left behind in bond the soul?
Whate'er was yours is ours in equal measure,
The Temple was not built for you alone,
Altho' 'tis ours to grace the common treasure
With Lares and Penates of our own!
Ye stole yourselves from gardens fragrant long
53
The sprouting seed-pods of your choicest blooms,
And wove the splendid garments of your song
From Viking foam on grave Hebraic looms:
'Twas Roman nerve and rich Hellenic lymph
Changed your pale pixie to a nubile nymph:
Yea, breathed at dawn around Atlantis' islands,
Wind-home o'er some Hesperidean road,
The morning clouds on dim Accadian highlands
Spring-fed the Nile that over Hellas flowed!
As large-eyed Greek amid Sicilian dews
Saw Dis, as ne'er before, pursue the Maid,
Or, safe 'neath screening billows, Arethuse
Alpheus' rugged sleuth unsoiled evade:
We shall complete the tale ye left half-told,
Under the ocean lead your fountains old,
To slake our sceptic thirst with haunted water,
And tame our torrents with a wedding kiss,
Shall loose, mayhap, the spell on Ceres' daughter,
And show, unclouded, God in very Dis.
(Yet, there are moods and mornings when I hear,
Above the music of the Bush's breath,
The rush of alien breezes far and near
Drowning her oracles to very death:
Exotic battle-cries the silence mar,
Seductive perfumes drive the gum-scent far;
And organ-tones august a moment show me
Miltonic billows and Homeric gales
Until I feel the older worlds below me,
And all her wonder trembles, thins and fails.)
Yea, you are all that we may be, and yet
In us is all you are to be for aye!
The Giver of the gifts that we shall get?
An empty womb that waits the wedding day?
Thus drifting sense by age-long habit buoyed
Plays round the thought that knows all nature void!
And so, my song alternate would believe her
Idiot Bush and Daughter of the Sun,
A worthless gift apart from the receiver,
An empty womb, but in a Deathless One.
54
To shapes we would of Freedom, Truth and Joy
Shall we your willing plasm mould for man:
Afresh rebuild the world, and thus destroy
What only Ragnarok in Europe can:
There is no Light but in your dark blendes sleeps,
Drops from your stars or through your ether leaps:
Yea, you are Nature, Chaos since Creation,
Waiting what human Word to chord in song?
Matrix inert of what auspicious nation?
For what far bees your nectar hiving long?
Exhausted manas of the conquering North
Shall rise refreshed to vivid life again
At your approach, and in your lap pour forth
Grateful the gleanings of his mighty reign:
As, when a tropic heat-king southward crawls,
Blistering the ranges, till he hears the calls
Of some cold high-browed bride, her streaming tresses,
Sprinkled with rose-buds, make his wild eyes thrill
To such desire for her superb caresses
He yields his fiery treasures to her will.
'Where is Australia, singer, do you know?
These sordid farms and joyless factories,
Mephitic mines and lanes of pallid woe?
Those ugly towns and cities such as these
With incense sick to all unworthy power,
And all old sin in full malignant flower?
No! to her bourn her children still are faring:
She is a Temple that we are to build:
For her the ages have been long preparing:
She is a prophecy to be fulfilled!
All that we love in olden lands and lore
Was signal of her coming long ago!
Bacon foresaw her, Campanella, More
And Plato's eyes were with her star aglow!
Who toiled for Truth, whate'er their countries were,
Who fought for Liberty, they yearned for her!
No corsair's gathering ground, or tryst for schemers,
55
No chapman Carthage to a huckster Tyre,
She is the Eldorado of old dreamers,
The Sleeping Beauty of the world's desire!
She is the scroll on which we are to write
Mythologies our own and epics new:
She is the port of our propitious flight
From Ur idolatrous and Pharaoh's crew.
She is our own, unstained, if worthy we,
By dream, or god, or star we would not see:
Her crystal beams all but the eagle dazzle;
Her wind-wide ways none but the strong-winged sail:
She is Eutopia, she is Hy-Brasil,
The watchers on the tower of morning hail I
Yet she shall be as we, the Potter, mould:
Altar or tomb, as we aspire, despair:
What wine we bring shall she, the chalice, hold:
What word we write shall she, the script, declare:
Bandage our eyes, she shall be Memphis, Spain:
Barter our souls, she shall be Tyre again:
And if we pour on her the red oblation
All o'er the world shall Asshur's buzzards throng:
Love-lit, her Chaos shall become Creation:
And dewed with dream, her silence flower in song.
~ Bernard O'Dowd,#NFDB
407:The Botanic Garden (Part Iv)
The Economy Of Vegetation
Canto IV
As when at noon in Hybla's fragrant bowers
CACALIA opens all her honey'd flowers;
Contending swarms on bending branches cling,
And nations hover on aurelian wing;
So round the GODDESS, ere she speaks, on high
Impatient SYLPHS in gawdy circlets fly;
Quivering in air their painted plumes expand,
And coloured shadows dance upon the land.
I. 'SYLPHS! YOUR light troops the tropic Winds confine,
And guide their streaming arrows to the Line;
While in warm floods ecliptic breezes rise,
And sink with wings benumb'd in colder skies.
You bid Monsoons on Indian seas reside,
And veer, as moves the sun, their airy tide;
While southern gales o'er western oceans roll,
And Eurus steals his ice-winds from the Pole.
Your playful trains, on sultry islands born,
Turn on fantastic toe at eve and morn;
With soft susurrant voice alternate sweep
Earth's green pavilions and encircling deep.
OR in itinerant cohorts, borne sublime
On tides of ether, float from clime to clime;
O'er waving Autumn bend your airy ring,
Or waft the fragrant bosom of the Spring.
II. 'When Morn, escorted by the dancing Hours,
O'er the bright plains her dewy lustre showers;
Till from her sable chariot Eve serene
Drops the dark curtain o'er the brilliant scene;
You form with chemic hands the airy surge,
Mix with broad vans, with shadowy tridents urge.
SYLPHS! from each sun-bright leaf, that twinkling shakes
O'er Earth's green lap, or shoots amid her lakes,
Your playful bands with simpering lips invite,
10
And wed the enamour'd OXYGENE to LIGHT.Round their white necks with fingers interwove,
Cling the fond Pair with unabating love;
Hand link'd in hand on buoyant step they rise,
And soar and glisten in unclouded skies.
Whence in bright floods the VITAL AIR expands,
And with concentric spheres involves the lands;
Pervades the swarming seas, and heaving earths,
Where teeming Nature broods her myriad births;
Fills the fine lungs of all that
breathe
or
bud
Warms the new heart, and dyes the gushing blood;
With Life's first spark inspires the organic frame,
And, as it wastes, renews the subtile flame.
'So pure, so soft, with sweet attraction shone
Fair PSYCHE, kneeling at the ethereal throne;
Won with coy smiles the admiring court of Jove,
And warm'd the bosom of unconquer'd LOVE.Beneath a moving shade of fruits and flowers
Onward they march to HYMEN'S sacred bowers;
With lifted torch he lights the festive train,
Sublime, and leads them in his golden chain;
Joins the fond pair, indulgent to their vows,
And hides with mystic veil their blushing brows.
Round their fair forms their mingling arms they fling,
Meet with warm lip, and clasp with rustling wing.-Hence plastic Nature, as Oblivion whelms
Her fading forms, repeoples all her realms;
Soft Joys disport on purple plumes unfurl'd,
And Love and Beauty rule the willing world.
III. 1. 'SYLPHS! Your bold myriads on the withering heath
Stay the fell SYROC'S suffocative breath;
Arrest SIMOOM in his realms of sand,
The poisoned javelin balanced in his hand;Fierce on blue streams he rides the tainted air,
Points his keen eye, and waves his whistling hair;
While, as he turns, the undulating soil
Rolls in red waves, and billowy deserts boil.
11
You seize TORNADO by his locks of mist,
Burst his dense clouds, his wheeling spires untwist;
Wide o'er the West when borne on headlong gales,
Dark as meridian night, the Monster sails,
Howls high in air, and shakes his curled brow,
Lashing with serpent-train the waves below,
Whirls his black arm, the forked lightning flings,
And showers a deluge from his demon-wings.
2. 'SYLPHS! with light shafts YOU pierce the drowsy FOG,
That lingering slumbers on the sedge-wove bog,
With webbed feet o'er midnight meadows creeps,
Or flings his hairy limbs on stagnant deeps.
YOU meet CONTAGION issuing from afar,
And dash the baleful conqueror from his car;
When, Guest of DEATH! from charnel vaults he steals,
And bathes in human gore his armed wheels.
'Thus when the PLAGUE, upborne on Belgian air,
Look'd through the mist and shook his clotted hair,
O'er shrinking nations steer'd malignant clouds,
And rain'd destruction on the gasping crouds.
The beauteous AEGLE felt the venom'd dart,
Slow roll'd her eye, and feebly throbb'd her heart;
Each fervid sigh seem'd shorter than the last,
And starting Friendship shunn'd her, as she pass'd.
-With weak unsteady step the fainting Maid
Seeks the cold garden's solitary shade,
Sinks on the pillowy moss her drooping head,
And prints with lifeless limbs her leafy bed.
-On wings of Love her plighted Swain pursues,
Shades her from winds, and shelters her from dews,
Extends on tapering poles the canvas roof,
Spreads o'er the straw-wove matt the flaxen woof,
Sweet buds and blossoms on her bolster strows,
And binds his kerchief round her aching brows;
Sooths with soft kiss, with tender accents charms,
And clasps the bright Infection in his arms.With pale and languid smiles the grateful Fair
Applauds his virtues, and rewards his care;
Mourns with wet cheek her fair companions fled
On timorous step, or number'd with the dead;
Calls to its bosom all its scatter'd rays,
And pours on THYRSIS the collected blaze;
12
Braves the chill night, caressing and caress'd,
And folds her Hero-lover to her breast.Less bold, LEANDER at the dusky hour
Eyed, as he swam, the far love-lighted tower;
Breasted with struggling arms the tossing wave,
And sunk benighted in the watery grave.
Less bold, TOBIAS claim'd the nuptial bed,
Where seven fond Lovers by a Fiend had bled;
And drove, instructed by his Angel-Guide,
The enamour'd Demon from the fatal bride.-SYLPHS! while your winnowing pinions fan'd the air,
And shed gay visions o'er the sleeping pair;
LOVE round their couch effused his rosy breath,
And with his keener arrows conquer'd DEATH.
IV. 1. 'You charm'd, indulgent SYLPHS! their learned toil,
And crown'd with fame your TORRICELL, and BOYLE;
Taught with sweet smiles, responsive to their prayer,
The spring and pressure of the viewless air.
-How up exhausted tubes bright currents flow
Of liquid silver from the lake below,
Weigh the long column of the incumbent skies,
And with the changeful moment fall and rise.
-How, as in brazen pumps the pistons move,
The membrane-valve sustains the weight above;
Stroke follows stroke, the gelid vapour falls,
And misty dew-drops dim the crystal walls;
Rare and more rare expands the fluid thin,
And Silence dwells with Vacancy within.So in the mighty Void with grim delight
Primeval Silence reign'd with ancient Night.
2. 'SYLPHS! your soft voices, whispering from the skies,
Bade from low earth the bold MONGULFIER rise;
Outstretch'd his buoyant ball with airy spring,
And bore the Sage on levity of wing;Where were ye, SYLPHS! when on the ethereal main
Young ROSIERE launch'd, and call'd your aid in vain?
Fair mounts the light balloon, by Zephyr driven,
Parts the thin clouds, and sails along the heaven;
Higher and yet higher the expanding bubble flies,
Lights with quick flash, and bursts amid the skies.Headlong He rushes through the affrighted air
13
With limbs distorted, and dishevel'd hair,
Whirls round and round, the flying croud alarms,
And DEATH receives him in his sable arms!So erst with melting wax and loosen'd strings
Sunk hapless ICARUS on unfaithful wings;
His scatter'd plumage danced upon the wave,
And sorrowing Mermaids deck'd his watery grave;
O'er his pale corse their pearly sea-flowers shed,
And strew'd with crimson moss his marble bed;
Struck in their coral towers the pausing bell,
And wide in ocean toll'd his echoing knell.
V. 'SYLPHS! YOU, retiring to sequester'd bowers,
Where oft your PRIESTLEY woos your airy powers,
On noiseless step or quivering pinion glide,
As sits the Sage with Science by his side;
To his charm'd eye in gay undress appear,
Or pour your secrets on his raptured ear.
How nitrous Gas from iron ingots driven
Drinks with red lips the purest breath of heaven;
How, while Conferva from its tender hair
Gives in bright bubbles empyrean air;
The crystal floods phlogistic ores calcine,
And the pure ETHER marries with the MINE.
'So in Sicilia's ever-blooming shade
When playful PROSERPINE from CERES stray'd,
Led with unwary step her virgin trains
O'er Etna's steeps, and Enna's golden plains;
Pluck'd with fair hand the silver-blossom'd bower,
And purpled mead,-herself a fairer flower;
Sudden, unseen amid the twilight glade,
Rush'd gloomy DIS, and seized the trembling maid.Her starting damsels sprung from mossy seats,
Dropp'd from their gauzy laps the gather'd sweets,
Clung round the struggling Nymph, with piercing cries,
Pursued the chariot, and invoked the skies;Pleased as he grasps her in his iron arms,
Frights with soft sighs, with tender words alarms,
The wheels descending roll'd in smoky rings,
Infernal Cupids flapp'd their demon wings;
Earth with deep yawn received the Fair, amaz'd,
And far in Night celestial Beauty blaz'd.
14
VI. 'Led by the Sage, Lo! Britain's sons shall guide
Huge SEA-BALLOONS beneath the tossing tide;
The diving castles, roof'd with spheric glass,
Ribb'd with strong oak, and barr'd with bolts of brass,
Buoy'd with pure air shall endless tracks pursue,
And PRIESTLEY'S hand the vital flood renew.Then shall BRITANNIA rule the wealthy realms,
Which Ocean's wide insatiate wave o'erwhelms;
Confine in netted bowers his scaly flocks,
Part his blue plains, and people all his rocks.
Deep, in warm waves beneath the Line that roll,
Beneath the shadowy ice-isles of the Pole,
Onward, through bright meandering vales, afar,
Obedient Sharks shall trail her sceptred car,
With harness'd necks the pearly flood disturb,
Stretch the silk rein, and champ the silver curb;
Pleased round her triumph wondering Tritons play,
And Seamaids hail her on the watery way.
-Oft shall she weep beneath the crystal waves
O'er shipwreck'd lovers weltering in their graves;
Mingling in death the Brave and Good behold
With slaves to glory, and with slaves to gold;
Shrin'd in the deep shall DAY and SPALDING mourn,
Each in his treacherous bell, sepulchral urn!Oft o'er thy lovely daughters, hapless PIERCE!
Her sighs shall breathe, her sorrows dew their hearse.With brow upturn'd to Heaven, 'WE WILL NOT PART!'
He cried, and clasp'd them to his aching heart,-Dash'd in dread conflict on the rocky grounds,
Crash the mock'd masts, the staggering wreck rebounds;
Through gaping seams the rushing deluge swims,
Chills their pale bosoms, bathes their shuddering limbs,
Climbs their white shoulders, buoys their streaming hair,
And the last sea-shriek bellows in the air.Each with loud sobs her tender sire caress'd,
And gasping strain'd him closer to her breast!-Stretch'd on one bier they sleep beneath the brine,
And their white bones with ivory arms intwine!
'VII. SYLPHS OF NICE EAR! with beating wings you guide
The fine vibrations of the aerial tide;
15
Join in sweet cadences the measured words,
Or stretch and modulate the trembling cords.
You strung to melody the Grecian lyre,
Breathed the rapt song, and fan'd the thought of fire,
Or brought in combinations, deep and clear,
Immortal harmony to HANDEL'S ear.YOU with soft breath attune the vernal gale,
When breezy evening broods the listening vale;
Or wake the loud tumultuous sounds, that dwell
In Echo's many-toned diurnal shell.
YOU melt in dulcet chords, when Zephyr rings
The Eolian Harp, and mingle all its strings;
Or trill in air the soft symphonious chime,
When rapt CECILIA lifts her eye sublime,
Swell, as she breathes, her bosoms rising snow,
O'er her white teeth in tuneful accents slow,
Through her fair lips on whispering pinions move,
And form the tender sighs, that kindle love!
'So playful LOVE on Ida's flowery sides
With ribbon-rein the indignant Lion guides;
Pleased on his brinded back the lyre he rings,
And shakes delirious rapture from the strings;
Slow as the pausing Monarch stalks along,
Sheaths his retractile claws, and drinks the song;
Soft Nymphs on timid step the triumph view,
And listening Fawns with beating hoofs pursue;
With pointed ears the alarmed forest starts,
And Love and Music soften savage hearts.
VIII. 'SYLPHS! YOUR bold hosts, when Heaven with justice dread
Calls the red tempest round the guilty head,
Fierce at his nod assume vindictive forms,
And launch from airy cars the vollied storms.From Ashur's vales when proud SENACHERIB trod,
Pour'd his swoln heart, defied the living GOD,
Urged with incessant shouts his glittering powers;
And JUDAH shook through all her massy towers;
Round her sad altars press'd the prostrate crowd,
Hosts beat their breasts, and suppliant chieftains bow'd;
Loud shrieks of matrons thrill'd the troubled air,
And trembling virgins rent their scatter'd hair;
High in the midst the kneeling King adored,
16
Spread the blaspheming scroll before the Lord,
Raised his pale hands, and breathed his pausing sighs,
And fixed on Heaven his dim imploring eyes,'Oh! MIGHTY GOD! amidst thy Seraph-throng
'Who sit'st sublime, the Judge of Right and Wrong;
'Thine the wide earth, bright sun, and starry zone,
'That twinkling journey round thy golden throne;
'Thine is the crystal source of life and light,
'And thine the realms of Death's eternal night.
'Oh, bend thine ear, thy gracious eye incline,
'Lo! Ashur's King blasphemes thy holy shrine,
'Insults our offerings, and derides our vows,-'Oh! strike the diadem from his impious brows,
'Tear from his murderous hand the bloody rod,
'And teach the trembling nations, 'THOU ART GOD!'-SYLPHS! in what dread array with pennons broad
Onward ye floated o'er the ethereal road,
Call'd each dank steam the reeking marsh exhales,
Contagious vapours, and volcanic gales,
Gave the soft South with poisonous breath to blow,
And rolled the dreadful whirlwind on the foe!Hark! o'er the camp the venom'd tempest sings,
Man falls on Man, on buckler buckler rings;
Groan answers groan, to anguish anguish yields,
And DEATH'S loud accents shake the tented fields!
-High rears the Fiend his grinning jaws, and wide
Spans the pale nations with colossal stride,
Waves his broad falchion with uplifted hand,
And his vast shadow darkens all the land.
IX. 1. 'Ethereal cohorts! Essences of Air!
Make the green children of the Spring your care!
Oh, SYLPHS! disclose in this inquiring age
One GOLDEN SECRET to some favour'd sage;
Grant the charm'd talisman, the chain, that binds,
Or guides the changeful pinions of the winds!
-No more shall hoary Boreas, issuing forth
With Eurus, lead the tempests of the North;
Rime the pale Dawn, or veil'd in flaky showers
Chill the sweet bosoms of the smiling Hours.
By whispering Auster waked shall Zephyr rise,
Meet with soft kiss, and mingle in the skies,
17
Fan the gay floret, bend the yellow ear,
And rock the uncurtain'd cradle of the year;
Autumn and Spring in lively union blend,
And from the skies the Golden Age descend.
2. 'Castled on ice, beneath the circling Bear,
A vast CAMELION spits and swallows air;
O'er twelve degrees his ribs gigantic bend,
And many a league his leathern jaws extend;
Half-fish, beneath, his scaly volutes spread,
And vegetable plumage crests his head;
Huge fields of air his wrinkled skin receives,
From panting gills, wide lungs, and waving leaves;
Then with dread throes subsides his bloated form,
His shriek the thunder, and his sigh the storm.
Oft high in heaven the hissing Demon wins
His towering course, upborne on winnowing fins;
Steers with expanded eye and gaping mouth,
His mass enormous to the affrighted South;
Spreads o'er the shuddering Line his shadowy limbs,
And Frost and Famine follow as he swims.SYLPHS! round his cloud-built couch your bands array,
And mould the Monster to your gentle sway;
Charm with soft tones, with tender touches check,
Bend to your golden yoke his willing neck,
With silver curb his yielding teeth restrain,
And give to KIRWAN'S hand the silken rein.
-Pleased shall the Sage, the dragon-wings between,
Bend o'er discordant climes his eye serene,
With Lapland breezes cool Arabian vales,
And call to Hindostan antarctic gales,
Adorn with wreathed ears Kampschatca's brows,
And scatter roses on Zealandic snows,
Earth's wondering Zones the genial seasons share,
And nations hail him 'MONARCH OF THE AIR.'
X. 1. 'SYLPHS! as you hover on ethereal wing,
Brood the green children of parturient Spring!Where in their bursting cells my Embryons rest,
I charge you guard the vegetable nest;
Count with nice eye the myriad SEEDS, that swell
Each vaulted womb of husk, or pod, or shell;
Feed with sweet juices, clothe with downy hair,
18
Or hang, inshrined, their little orbs in air.
'So, late descry'd by HERSCHEL'S piercing sight,
Hang the bright squadrons of the twinkling Night;
Ten thousand marshall'd stars, a silver zone,
Effuse their blended lustres round her throne;
Suns call to suns, in lucid clouds conspire,
And light exterior skies with golden fire;
Resistless rolls the illimitable sphere,
And one great circle forms the unmeasured year.
-Roll on, YE STARS! exult in youthful prime,
Mark with bright curves the printless steps of Time;
Near and more near your beamy cars approach,
And lessening orbs on lessening orbs encroach;Flowers of the sky! ye too to age must yield,
Frail as your silken sisters of the field!
Star after star from Heaven's high arch shall rush,
Suns sink on suns, and systems systems crush,
Headlong, extinct, to one dark centre fall,
And Death and Night and Chaos mingle all!
-Till o'er the wreck, emerging from the storm,
Immortal NATURE lifts her changeful form,
Mounts from her funeral pyre on wings of flame,
And soars and shines, another and the same.
2. 'Lo! on each SEED within its slender rind
Life's golden threads in endless circles wind;
Maze within maze the lucid webs are roll'd,
And, as they burst, the living flame unfold.
The pulpy acorn, ere it swells, contains
The Oak's vast branches in its milky veins;
Each ravel'd bud, fine film, and fibre-line
Traced with nice pencil on the small design.
The young Narcissus, in it's bulb compress'd,
Cradles a second nestling on its breast;
In whose fine arms a younger embryon lies,
Folds its thin leaves, and shuts its floret-eyes;
Grain within grain successive harvests dwell,
And boundless forests slumber in a shell.
-So yon grey precipice, and ivy'd towers,
Long winding meads, and intermingled bowers,
Green files of poplars, o'er the lake that bow,
And glimmering wheel, which rolls and foams below,
In one bright point with nice distinction lie
19
Plan'd on the moving tablet of the eye.
-So, fold on fold, Earth's wavy plains extend,
And, sphere in sphere, its hidden strata bend;Incumbent Spring her beamy plumes expands
O'er restless oceans, and impatient lands,
With genial lustres warms the mighty ball,
And the GREAT SEED evolves, disclosing ALL;
LIFE
buds
or
breathes
from Indus to the Poles,
And the vast surface kindles, as it rolls!
3. 'Come, YE SOFT SYLPHS! who sport on Latian land,
Come, sweet-lip'd Zephyr, and Favonius bland!
Teach the fine SEED, instinct with life, to shoot
On Earth's cold bosom its descending root;
With Pith elastic stretch its rising stem,
Part the twin Lobes, expand the throbbing Gem;
Clasp in your airy arms the aspiring Plume,
Fan with your balmy breath its kindling bloom,
Each widening scale and bursting film unfold,
Swell the green cup, and tint the flower with gold;
While in bright veins the silvery Sap ascends,
And refluent blood in milky eddies bends;
While, spread in air, the leaves respiring play,
Or drink the golden quintessence of day.
-So from his shell on Delta's shower-less isle
Bursts into life the Monster of the Nile;
First in translucent lymph with cobweb-threads
The Brain's fine floating tissue swells, and spreads;
Nerve after nerve the glistening spine descends,
The red Heart dances, the Aorta bends;
Through each new gland the purple current glides,
New veins meandering drink the refluent tides;
Edge over edge expands the hardening scale,
And sheaths his slimy skin in silver mail.
-Erewhile, emerging from the brooding sand,
With Tyger-paw He prints the brineless strand,
High on the flood with speckled bosom swims,
Helm'd with broad tail, and oar'd with giant limbs;
Rolls his fierce eye-balls, clasps his iron claws,
20
And champs with gnashing teeth his massy jaws;
Old Nilus sighs along his cane-crown'd shores,
And swarthy Memphis trembles and adores.
XI. 'Come, YE SOFT SYLPHS! who fan the Paphian groves,
And bear on sportive wings the callow Loves;
Call with sweet whisper, in each gale that blows,
The slumbering Snow-drop from her long repose;
Charm the pale Primrose from her clay-cold bed,
Unveil the bashful Violet's tremulous head;
While from her bud the playful Tulip breaks,
And young Carnations peep with blushing cheeks;
Bid the closed
Petals
from nocturnal cold
The virgin
Style
in silken curtains fold,
Shake into viewless air the morning dews,
And wave in light their iridescent hues;
While from on high the bursting
Anthers
trust
To the mild breezes their prolific dust;
Or bend in rapture o'er the central Fair,
Love out their hour, and leave their lives in air.
So in his silken sepulchre the Worm,
Warm'd with new life, unfolds his larva-form;
Erewhile aloft in wanton circles moves,
And woos on Hymen-wings his velvet loves.
XII. 1. 'If prouder branches with exuberance rude
Point their green gems, their barren shoots protrude;
Wound them, ye SYLPHS! with little knives, or bind
A wiry ringlet round the swelling rind;
Bisect with chissel fine the root below,
Or bend to earth the inhospitable bough.
So shall each germ with new prolific power
Delay the leaf-bud, and expand the flower;
Closed in the
Style
the tender pith shall end,
21
The lengthening Wood in circling
Stamens
bend;
The smoother Rind its soft embroidery spread
In vaulted
Petals
o'er their fertile bed;
While the rough Bark, in circling mazes roll'd,
Forms the green
Cup
with many a wrinkled fold;
And each small bud-scale spreads its foliage hard,
Firm round the callow germ, a
Floral Guard
2. 'Where cruder juices swell the leafy vein,
Stint the young germ, the tender blossom stain;
On each lop'd shoot a softer scion bind,
Pith press'd to pith, and rind applied to rind,
So shall the trunk with loftier crest ascend,
And wide in air its happier arms extend;
Nurse the new buds, admire the leaves unknown,
And blushing bend with fruitage not its own.
'Thus when in holy triumph Aaron trod,
And offer'd on the shrine his mystic rod;
First a new bark its silken tissue weaves,
New buds emerging widen into leaves;
Fair fruits protrude, enascent flowers expand,
And blush and tremble round the living wand.
XIII. 1. 'SYLPHS! on each Oak-bud wound the wormy galls,
With pigmy spears, or crush the venom'd balls;
Fright the green Locust from his foamy bed,
Unweave the Caterpillar's gluey thread;
Chase the fierce Earwig, scare the bloated Toad,
Arrest the snail upon his slimy road;
Arm with sharp thorns the Sweet-brier's tender wood,
And dash the Cynips from her damask bud;
Steep in ambrosial dews the Woodbine's bells,
And drive the Night-moth from her honey'd cells.
So where the Humming-bird in Chili's bowers
On murmuring pinions robs the pendent flowers;
22
Seeks, where fine pores their dulcet balm distill,
And sucks the treasure with proboscis-bill;
Fair CYPREPEDIA with successful guile
Knits her smooth brow, extinguishes her smile;
A Spiders bloated paunch and jointed arms
Hide her fine form, and mask her blushing charms;
In ambush sly the mimic warrior lies,
And on quick wing the panting plunderer flies.
2. 'Shield the young Harvest from devouring blight,
The Smut's dark poison, and the Mildew white;
Deep-rooted Mould, and Ergot's horn uncouth,
And break the Canker's desolating tooth.
First in one point the festering wound confin'd
Mines unperceived beneath the shrivel'd rin'd;
Then climbs the branches with increasing strength,
Spreads as they spread, and lengthens with their length;
-Thus the slight wound ingraved on glass unneal'd
Runs in white lines along the lucid field;
Crack follows crack, to laws elastic just,
And the frail fabric shivers into dust.
XIV. 1. 'SYLPHS! if with morn destructive Eurus springs,
O, clasp the Harebel with your velvet wings;
Screen with thick leaves the Jasmine as it blows,
And shake the white rime from the shuddering Rose;
Whilst Amaryllis turns with graceful ease
Her blushing beauties, and eludes the breeze.SYLPHS! if at noon the Fritillary droops,
With drops nectareous hang her nodding cups;
Thin clouds of Gossamer in air display,
And hide the vale's chaste Lily from the ray;
Whilst Erythrina o'er her tender flower
Bends all her leaves, and braves the sultry hour;Shield, when cold Hesper sheds his dewy light,
Mimosa's soft sensations from the night;
Fold her thin foilage, close her timid flowers,
And with ambrosial slumbers guard her bowers;
O'er each warm wall while Cerea flings her arms,
And wastes on night's dull eye a blaze of charms.
2. Round her tall Elm with dewy fingers twine
The gadding tendrils of the adventurous Vine;
From arm to arm in gay festoons suspend
23
Her fragrant flowers, her graceful foliage bend;
Swell with sweet juice her vermil orbs, and feed
Shrined in transparent pulp her pearly seed;
Hang round the Orange all her silver bells,
And guard her fragrance with Hesperian spells;
Bud after bud her polish'd leaves unfold,
And load her branches with successive gold.
So the learn'd Alchemist exulting sees
Rise in his bright matrass DIANA'S trees;
Drop after drop, with just delay he pours
The red-fumed acid on Potosi's ores;
With sudden flash the fierce bullitions rise,
And wide in air the gas phlogistic flies;
Slow shoot, at length, in many a brilliant mass
Metallic roots across the netted glass;
Branch after branch extend their silver stems,
Bud into gold, and blossoms into gems.
So sits enthron'd in vegetable pride
Imperial KEW by Thames's glittering side;
Obedient sails from realms unfurrow'd bring
For her the unnam'd progeny of spring;
Attendant Nymphs her dulcet mandates hear,
And nurse in fostering arms the tender year,
Plant the young bulb, inhume the living seed,
Prop the weak stem, the erring tendril lead;
Or fan in glass-built fanes the stranger flowers
With milder gales, and steep with warmer showers.
Delighted Thames through tropic umbrage glides,
And flowers antarctic, bending o'er his tides;
Drinks the new tints, the sweets unknown inhales,
And calls the sons of science to his vales.
In one bright point admiring Nature eyes
The fruits and foliage of discordant skies,
Twines the gay floret with the fragrant bough,
And bends the wreath round GEORGE'S royal brow.
-Sometimes retiring, from the public weal
One tranquil hour the ROYAL PARTNERS steal;
Through glades exotic pass with step sublime,
Or mark the growths of Britain's happier clime;
With beauty blossom'd, and with virtue blaz'd,
Mark the fair Scions, that themselves have rais'd;
Sweet blooms the Rose, the towering Oak expands,
24
The Grace and Guard of Britain's golden lands.
XV. SYLPHS! who, round earth on purple pinions borne,
Attend the radiant chariot of the morn;
Lead the gay hours along the ethereal hight,
And on each dun meridian shower the light;
SYLPHS! who from realms of equatorial day
To climes, that shudder in the polar ray,
From zone to zone pursue on shifting wing,
The bright perennial journey of the spring;
Bring my rich Balms from Mecca's hallow'd glades,
Sweet flowers, that glitter in Arabia's shades;
Fruits, whose fair forms in bright succession glow
Gilding the Banks of Arno, or of Po;
Each leaf, whose fragrant steam with ruby lip
Gay China's nymphs from pictur'd vases sip;
Each spicy rind, which sultry India boasts,
Scenting the night-air round her breezy coasts;
Roots whose bold stems in bleak Siberia blow,
And gem with many a tint the eternal snow;
Barks, whose broad umbrage high in ether waves
O'er Ande's steeps, and hides his golden caves;
-And, where yon oak extends his dusky shoots
Wide o'er the rill, that bubbles from his roots;
Beneath whose arms, protected from the storm
A turf-built altar rears it's rustic form;
SYLPHS! with religious hands fresh garlands twine,
And deck with lavish pomp HYGEIA'S shrine.
'Call with loud voice the Sisterhood, that dwell
On floating cloud, wide wave, or bubbling well;
Stamp with charm'd foot, convoke the alarmed Gnomes
From golden beds, and adamantine domes;
Each from her sphere with beckoning arm invite,
Curl'd with red flame, the Vestal Forms of light.
Close all your spotted wings, in lucid ranks
Press with your bending knees the crowded banks,
Cross your meek arms, incline your wreathed brows,
And win the Goddess with unwearied vows.
'Oh, wave, HYGEIA! o'er BRITANNIA'S throne
Thy serpent-wand, and mark it for thy own;
Lead round her breezy coasts thy guardian trains,
Her nodding forests, and her waving plains;
25
Shed o'er her peopled realms thy beamy smile,
And with thy airy temple crown her isle!'
The GODDESS ceased,-and calling from afar
The wandering Zephyrs, joins them to her car;
Mounts with light bound, and graceful, as she bends,
Whirls the long lash, the flexile rein extends;
On whispering wheels the silver axle slides,
Climbs into air, and cleaves the crystal tides;
Burst from its pearly chains, her amber hair
Streams o'er her ivory shoulders, buoy'd in air;
Swells her white veil, with ruby clasp confined
Round her fair brow, and undulates behind;
The lessening coursers rise in spiral rings,
Pierce the slow-sailing clouds, and stretch their shadowy wings.
~ Erasmus Darwin,#NFDB
408:Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
O first-born on the mountains! by the hues
Of heaven on the spiritual air begot:
Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot,
While yet our England was a wolfish den;
Before our forests heard the talk of men;
Before the first of Druids was a child;--
Long didst thou sit amid our regions wild
Rapt in a deep prophetic solitude.
There came an eastern voice of solemn mood:--
Yet wast thou patient. Then sang forth the Nine,
Apollo's garland:--yet didst thou divine
Such home-bred glory, that they cry'd in vain,
"Come hither, Sister of the Island!" Plain
Spake fair Ausonia; and once more she spake
A higher summons:--still didst thou betake
Thee to thy native hopes. O thou hast won
A full accomplishment! The thing is done,
Which undone, these our latter days had risen
On barren souls. Great Muse, thou know'st what prison
Of flesh and bone, curbs, and confines, and frets
Our spirit's wings: despondency besets
Our pillows; and the fresh to-morrow morn
Seems to give forth its light in very scorn
Of our dull, uninspired, snail-paced lives.
Long have I said, how happy he who shrives
To thee! But then I thought on poets gone,
And could not pray:nor can I now--so on
I move to the end in lowliness of heart.--
"Ah, woe is me! that I should fondly part
From my dear native land! Ah, foolish maid!
Glad was the hour, when, with thee, myriads bade
Adieu to Ganges and their pleasant fields!
To one so friendless the clear freshet yields
A bitter coolness, the ripe grape is sour:
Yet I would have, great gods! but one short hour
Of native airlet me but die at home."
Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a hecatomb of vows,
When these words reach'd him. Whereupon he bows
His head through thorny-green entanglement
Of underwood, and to the sound is bent,
Anxious as hind towards her hidden fawn.
"Is no one near to help me? No fair dawn
Of life from charitable voice? No sweet saying
To set my dull and sadden'd spirit playing?
No hand to toy with mine? No lips so sweet
That I may worship them? No eyelids meet
To twinkle on my bosom? No one dies
Before me, till from these enslaving eyes
Redemption sparkles!I am sad and lost."
Thou, Carian lord, hadst better have been tost
Into a whirlpool. Vanish into air,
Warm mountaineer! for canst thou only bear
A woman's sigh alone and in distress?
See not her charms! Is Phoebe passionless?
Phoebe is fairer farO gaze no more:
Yet if thou wilt behold all beauty's store,
Behold her panting in the forest grass!
Do not those curls of glossy jet surpass
For tenderness the arms so idly lain
Amongst them? Feelest not a kindred pain,
To see such lovely eyes in swimming search
After some warm delight, that seems to perch
Dovelike in the dim cell lying beyond
Their upper lids?Hist! "O for Hermes' wand
To touch this flower into human shape!
That woodland Hyacinthus could escape
From his green prison, and here kneeling down
Call me his queen, his second life's fair crown!
Ah me, how I could love!My soul doth melt
For the unhappy youthLove! I have felt
So faint a kindness, such a meek surrender
To what my own full thoughts had made too tender,
That but for tears my life had fled away!
Ye deaf and senseless minutes of the day,
And thou, old forest, hold ye this for true,
There is no lightning, no authentic dew
But in the eye of love: there's not a sound,
Melodious howsoever, can confound
The heavens and earth in one to such a death
As doth the voice of love: there's not a breath
Will mingle kindly with the meadow air,
Till it has panted round, and stolen a share
Of passion from the heart!"
Upon a bough
He leant, wretched. He surely cannot now
Thirst for another love: O impious,
That he can even dream upon it thus!
Thought he, "Why am I not as are the dead,
Since to a woe like this I have been led
Through the dark earth, and through the wondrous sea?
Goddess! I love thee not the less: from thee
By Juno's smile I turn notno, no, no
While the great waters are at ebb and flow.
I have a triple soul! O fond pretence
For both, for both my love is so immense,
I feel my heart is cut in twain for them."
And so he groan'd, as one by beauty slain.
The lady's heart beat quick, and he could see
Her gentle bosom heave tumultuously.
He sprang from his green covert: there she lay,
Sweet as a muskrose upon new-made hay;
With all her limbs on tremble, and her eyes
Shut softly up alive. To speak he tries.
"Fair damsel, pity me! forgive that I
Thus violate thy bower's sanctity!
O pardon me, for I am full of grief
Grief born of thee, young angel! fairest thief!
Who stolen hast away the wings wherewith
I was to top the heavens. Dear maid, sith
Thou art my executioner, and I feel
Loving and hatred, misery and weal,
Will in a few short hours be nothing to me,
And all my story that much passion slew me;
Do smile upon the evening of my days:
And, for my tortur'd brain begins to craze,
Be thou my nurse; and let me understand
How dying I shall kiss that lily hand.
Dost weep for me? Then should I be content.
Scowl on, ye fates! until the firmament
Outblackens Erebus, and the full-cavern'd earth
Crumbles into itself. By the cloud girth
Of Jove, those tears have given me a thirst
To meet oblivion."As her heart would burst
The maiden sobb'd awhile, and then replied:
"Why must such desolation betide
As that thou speakest of? Are not these green nooks
Empty of all misfortune? Do the brooks
Utter a gorgon voice? Does yonder thrush,
Schooling its half-fledg'd little ones to brush
About the dewy forest, whisper tales?
Speak not of grief, young stranger, or cold snails
Will slime the rose to night. Though if thou wilt,
Methinks 'twould be a guilta very guilt
Not to companion thee, and sigh away
The lightthe duskthe darktill break of day!"
"Dear lady," said Endymion, "'tis past:
I love thee! and my days can never last.
That I may pass in patience still speak:
Let me have music dying, and I seek
No more delightI bid adieu to all.
Didst thou not after other climates call,
And murmur about Indian streams?"Then she,
Sitting beneath the midmost forest tree,
For pity sang this roundelay
"O Sorrow,
Why dost borrow
The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?
To give maiden blushes
To the white rose bushes?
Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips?
"O Sorrow,
Why dost borrow
The lustrous passion from a falcon-eye?
To give the glow-worm light?
Or, on a moonless night,
To tinge, on syren shores, the salt sea-spry?
"O Sorrow,
Why dost borrow
The mellow ditties from a mourning tongue?
To give at evening pale
Unto the nightingale,
That thou mayst listen the cold dews among?
"O Sorrow,
Why dost borrow
Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
A lover would not tread
A cowslip on the head,
Though he should dance from eve till peep of day
Nor any drooping flower
Held sacred for thy bower,
Wherever he may sport himself and play.
"To Sorrow
I bade good-morrow,
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind:
I would deceive her
And so leave her,
But ah! she is so constant and so kind.
"Beneath my palm trees, by the river side,
I sat a weeping: in the whole world wide
There was no one to ask me why I wept,
And so I kept
Brimming the water-lily cups with tears
Cold as my fears.
"Beneath my palm trees, by the river side,
I sat a weeping: what enamour'd bride,
Cheated by shadowy wooer from the clouds,
But hides and shrouds
Beneath dark palm trees by a river side?
"And as I sat, over the light blue hills
There came a noise of revellers: the rills
Into the wide stream came of purple hue
'Twas Bacchus and his crew!
The earnest trumpet spake, and silver thrills
From kissing cymbals made a merry din
'Twas Bacchus and his kin!
Like to a moving vintage down they came,
Crown'd with green leaves, and faces all on flame;
All madly dancing through the pleasant valley,
To scare thee, Melancholy!
O then, O then, thou wast a simple name!
And I forgot thee, as the berried holly
By shepherds is forgotten, when, in June,
Tall chesnuts keep away the sun and moon:
I rush'd into the folly!
"Within his car, aloft, young Bacchus stood,
Trifling his ivy-dart, in dancing mood,
With sidelong laughing;
And little rills of crimson wine imbrued
His plump white arms, and shoulders, enough white
For Venus' pearly bite;
And near him rode Silenus on his ****,
Pelted with flowers as he on did pass
Tipsily quaffing.
"Whence came ye, merry Damsels! whence came ye!
So many, and so many, and such glee?
Why have ye left your bowers desolate,
Your lutes, and gentler fate?
We follow Bacchus! Bacchus on the wing?
A conquering!
Bacchus, young Bacchus! good or ill betide,
We dance before him thorough kingdoms wide:
Come hither, lady fair, and joined be
To our wild minstrelsy!'
"Whence came ye, jolly Satyrs! whence came ye!
So many, and so many, and such glee?
Why have ye left your forest haunts, why left
Your nuts in oak-tree cleft?
For wine, for wine we left our kernel tree;
For wine we left our heath, and yellow brooms,
And cold mushrooms;
For wine we follow Bacchus through the earth;
Great God of breathless cups and chirping mirth!
Come hither, lady fair, and joined be
To our mad minstrelsy!'
"Over wide streams and mountains great we went,
And, save when Bacchus kept his ivy tent,
Onward the tiger and the leopard pants,
With Asian elephants:
Onward these myriadswith song and dance,
With zebras striped, and sleek Arabians' prance,
Web-footed alligators, crocodiles,
Bearing upon their scaly backs, in files,
Plump infant laughers mimicking the coil
Of seamen, and stout galley-rowers' toil:
With toying oars and silken sails they glide,
Nor care for wind and tide.
"Mounted on panthers' furs and lions' manes,
From rear to van they scour about the plains;
A three days' journey in a moment done:
And always, at the rising of the sun,
About the wilds they hunt with spear and horn,
On spleenful unicorn.
"I saw Osirian Egypt kneel adown
Before the vine-wreath crown!
I saw parch'd Abyssinia rouse and sing
To the silver cymbals' ring!
I saw the whelming vintage hotly pierce
Old Tartary the fierce!
The kings of Inde their jewel-sceptres vail,
And from their treasures scatter pearled hail;
Great Brahma from his mystic heaven groans,
And all his priesthood moans;
Before young Bacchus' eye-wink turning pale.
Into these regions came I following him,
Sick hearted, wearyso I took a whim
To stray away into these forests drear
Alone, without a peer:
And I have told thee all thou mayest hear.
"Young stranger!
I've been a ranger
In search of pleasure throughout every clime:
Alas! 'tis not for me!
Bewitch'd I sure must be,
To lose in grieving all my maiden prime.
"Come then, Sorrow!
Sweetest Sorrow!
Like an own babe I nurse thee on my breast:
I thought to leave thee
And deceive thee,
But now of all the world I love thee best.
"There is not one,
No, no, not one
But thee to comfort a poor lonely maid;
Thou art her mother,
And her brother,
Her playmate, and her wooer in the shade."
O what a sigh she gave in finishing,
And look, quite dead to every worldly thing!
Endymion could not speak, but gazed on her;
And listened to the wind that now did stir
About the crisped oaks full drearily,
Yet with as sweet a softness as might be
Remember'd from its velvet summer song.
At last he said: "Poor lady, how thus long
Have I been able to endure that voice?
Fair Melody! kind Syren! I've no choice;
I must be thy sad servant evermore:
I cannot choose but kneel here and adore.
Alas, I must not thinkby Phoebe, no!
Let me not think, soft Angel! shall it be so?
Say, beautifullest, shall I never think?
O thou could'st foster me beyond the brink
Of recollection! make my watchful care
Close up its bloodshot eyes, nor see despair!
Do gently murder half my soul, and I
Shall feel the other half so utterly!
I'm giddy at that cheek so fair and smooth;
O let it blush so ever! let it soothe
My madness! let it mantle rosy-warm
With the tinge of love, panting in safe alarm.
This cannot be thy hand, and yet it is;
And this is sure thine other softlingthis
Thine own fair bosom, and I am so near!
Wilt fall asleep? O let me sip that tear!
And whisper one sweet word that I may know
This is this worldsweet dewy blossom!"Woe!
Woe! Woe to that Endymion! Where is he?
Even these words went echoing dismally
Through the wide foresta most fearful tone,
Like one repenting in his latest moan;
And while it died away a shade pass'd by,
As of a thunder cloud. When arrows fly
Through the thick branches, poor ring-doves sleek forth
Their timid necks and tremble; so these both
Leant to each other trembling, and sat so
Waiting for some destructionwhen lo,
Foot-feather'd Mercury appear'd sublime
Beyond the tall tree tops; and in less time
Than shoots the slanted hail-storm, down he dropt
Towards the ground; but rested not, nor stopt
One moment from his home: only the sward
He with his wand light touch'd, and heavenward
Swifter than sight was goneeven before
The teeming earth a sudden witness bore
Of his swift magic. Diving swans appear
Above the crystal circlings white and clear;
And catch the cheated eye in wild surprise,
How they can dive in sight and unseen rise
So from the turf outsprang two steeds jet-black,
Each with large dark blue wings upon his back.
The youth of Caria plac'd the lovely dame
On one, and felt himself in spleen to tame
The other's fierceness. Through the air they flew,
High as the eagles. Like two drops of dew
Exhal'd to Phoebus' lips, away they are gone,
Far from the earth awayunseen, alone,
Among cool clouds and winds, but that the free,
The buoyant life of song can floating be
Above their heads, and follow them untir'd.
Muse of my native land, am I inspir'd?
This is the giddy air, and I must spread
Wide pinions to keep here; nor do I dread
Or height, or depth, or width, or any chance
Precipitous: I have beneath my glance
Those towering horses and their mournful freight.
Could I thus sail, and see, and thus await
Fearless for power of thought, without thine aid?
There is a sleepy dusk, an odorous shade
From some approaching wonder, and behold
Those winged steeds, with snorting nostrils bold
Snuff at its faint extreme, and seem to tire,
Dying to embers from their native fire!
There curl'd a purple mist around them; soon,
It seem'd as when around the pale new moon
Sad Zephyr droops the clouds like weeping willow:
'Twas Sleep slow journeying with head on pillow.
For the first time, since he came nigh dead born
From the old womb of night, his cave forlorn
Had he left more forlorn; for the first time,
He felt aloof the day and morning's prime
Because into his depth Cimmerian
There came a dream, shewing how a young man,
Ere a lean bat could plump its wintery skin,
Would at high Jove's empyreal footstool win
An immortality, and how espouse
Jove's daughter, and be reckon'd of his house.
Now was he slumbering towards heaven's gate,
That he might at the threshold one hour wait
To hear the marriage melodies, and then
Sink downward to his dusky cave again.
His litter of smooth semilucent mist,
Diversely ting'd with rose and amethyst,
Puzzled those eyes that for the centre sought;
And scarcely for one moment could be caught
His sluggish form reposing motionless.
Those two on winged steeds, with all the stress
Of vision search'd for him, as one would look
Athwart the sallows of a river nook
To catch a glance at silver throated eels,
Or from old Skiddaw's top, when fog conceals
His rugged forehead in a mantle pale,
With an eye-guess towards some pleasant vale
Descry a favourite hamlet faint and far.
These raven horses, though they foster'd are
Of earth's splenetic fire, dully drop
Their full-veined ears, nostrils blood wide, and stop;
Upon the spiritless mist have they outspread
Their ample feathers, are in slumber dead,
And on those pinions, level in mid air,
Endymion sleepeth and the lady fair.
Slowly they sail, slowly as icy isle
Upon a calm sea drifting: and meanwhile
The mournful wanderer dreams. Behold! he walks
On heaven's pavement; brotherly he talks
To divine powers: from his hand full fain
Juno's proud birds are pecking pearly grain:
He tries the nerve of Phoebus' golden bow,
And asketh where the golden apples grow:
Upon his arm he braces Pallas' shield,
And strives in vain to unsettle and wield
A Jovian thunderbolt: arch Hebe brings
A full-brimm'd goblet, dances lightly, sings
And tantalizes long; at last he drinks,
And lost in pleasure at her feet he sinks,
Touching with dazzled lips her starlight hand.
He blows a bugle,an ethereal band
Are visible above: the Seasons four,
Green-kyrtled Spring, flush Summer, golden store
In Autumn's sickle, Winter frosty hoar,
Join dance with shadowy Hours; while still the blast,
In swells unmitigated, still doth last
To sway their floating morris. "Whose is this?
Whose bugle?" he inquires: they smile"O Dis!
Why is this mortal here? Dost thou not know
Its mistress' lips? Not thou?'Tis Dian's: lo!
She rises crescented!" He looks, 'tis she,
His very goddess: good-bye earth, and sea,
And air, and pains, and care, and suffering;
Good-bye to all but love! Then doth he spring
Towards her, and awakesand, strange, o'erhead,
Of those same fragrant exhalations bred,
Beheld awake his very dream: the gods
Stood smiling; merry Hebe laughs and nods;
And Phoebe bends towards him crescented.
O state perplexing! On the pinion bed,
Too well awake, he feels the panting side
Of his delicious lady. He who died
For soaring too audacious in the sun,
Where that same treacherous wax began to run,
Felt not more tongue-tied than Endymion.
His heart leapt up as to its rightful throne,
To that fair shadow'd passion puls'd its way
Ah, what perplexity! Ah, well a day!
So fond, so beauteous was his bed-fellow,
He could not help but kiss her: then he grew
Awhile forgetful of all beauty save
Young Phoebe's, golden hair'd; and so 'gan crave
Forgiveness: yet he turn'd once more to look
At the sweet sleeper,all his soul was shook,
She press'd his hand in slumber; so once more
He could not help but kiss her and adore.
At this the shadow wept, melting away.
The Latmian started up: "Bright goddess, stay!
Search my most hidden breast! By truth's own tongue,
I have no ddale heart: why is it wrung
To desperation? Is there nought for me,
Upon the bourne of bliss, but misery?"
These words awoke the stranger of dark tresses:
Her dawning love-look rapt Endymion blesses
With 'haviour soft. Sleep yawned from underneath.
"Thou swan of Ganges, let us no more breathe
This murky phantasm! thou contented seem'st
Pillow'd in lovely idleness, nor dream'st
What horrors may discomfort thee and me.
Ah, shouldst thou die from my heart-treachery!
Yet did she merely weepher gentle soul
Hath no revenge in it: as it is whole
In tenderness, would I were whole in love!
Can I prize thee, fair maid, all price above,
Even when I feel as true as innocence?
I do, I do.What is this soul then? Whence
Came it? It does not seem my own, and I
Have no self-passion or identity.
Some fearful end must be: where, where is it?
By Nemesis, I see my spirit flit
Alone about the darkForgive me, sweet:
Shall we away?" He rous'd the steeds: they beat
Their wings chivalrous into the clear air,
Leaving old Sleep within his vapoury lair.
The good-night blush of eve was waning slow,
And Vesper, risen star, began to throe
In the dusk heavens silvery, when they
Thus sprang direct towards the Galaxy.
Nor did speed hinder converse soft and strange
Eternal oaths and vows they interchange,
In such wise, in such temper, so aloof
Up in the winds, beneath a starry roof,
So witless of their doom, that verily
'Tis well nigh past man's search their hearts to see;
Whether they wept, or laugh'd, or griev'd, or toy'd
Most like with joy gone mad, with sorrow cloy'd.
Full facing their swift flight, from ebon streak,
The moon put forth a little diamond peak,
No bigger than an unobserved star,
Or tiny point of fairy scymetar;
Bright signal that she only stoop'd to tie
Her silver sandals, ere deliciously
She bow'd into the heavens her timid head.
Slowly she rose, as though she would have fled,
While to his lady meek the Carian turn'd,
To mark if her dark eyes had yet discern'd
This beauty in its birthDespair! despair!
He saw her body fading gaunt and spare
In the cold moonshine. Straight he seiz'd her wrist;
It melted from his grasp: her hand he kiss'd,
And, horror! kiss'd his ownhe was alone.
Her steed a little higher soar'd, and then
Dropt hawkwise to the earth. There lies a den,
Beyond the seeming confines of the space
Made for the soul to wander in and trace
Its own existence, of remotest glooms.
Dark regions are around it, where the tombs
Of buried griefs the spirit sees, but scarce
One hour doth linger weeping, for the pierce
Of new-born woe it feels more inly smart:
And in these regions many a venom'd dart
At random flies; they are the proper home
Of every ill: the man is yet to come
Who hath not journeyed in this native hell.
But few have ever felt how calm and well
Sleep may be had in that deep den of all.
There anguish does not sting; nor pleasure pall:
Woe-hurricanes beat ever at the gate,
Yet all is still within and desolate.
Beset with painful gusts, within ye hear
No sound so loud as when on curtain'd bier
The death-watch tick is stifled. Enter none
Who strive therefore: on the sudden it is won.
Just when the sufferer begins to burn,
Then it is free to him; and from an urn,
Still fed by melting ice, he takes a draught
Young Semele such richness never quaft
In her maternal longing. Happy gloom!
Dark Paradise! where pale becomes the bloom
Of health by due; where silence dreariest
Is most articulate; where hopes infest;
Where those eyes are the brightest far that keep
Their lids shut longest in a dreamless sleep.
O happy spirit-home! O wondrous soul!
Pregnant with such a den to save the whole
In thine own depth. Hail, gentle Carian!
For, never since thy griefs and woes began,
Hast thou felt so content: a grievous feud
Hath let thee to this Cave of Quietude.
Aye, his lull'd soul was there, although upborne
With dangerous speed: and so he did not mourn
Because he knew not whither he was going.
So happy was he, not the aerial blowing
Of trumpets at clear parley from the east
Could rouse from that fine relish, that high feast.
They stung the feather'd horse: with fierce alarm
He flapp'd towards the sound. Alas, no charm
Could lift Endymion's head, or he had view'd
A skyey mask, a pinion'd multitude,
And silvery was its passing: voices sweet
Warbling the while as if to lull and greet
The wanderer in his path. Thus warbled they,
While past the vision went in bright array.
"Who, who from Dian's feast would be away?
For all the golden bowers of the day
Are empty left? Who, who away would be
From Cynthia's wedding and festivity?
Not Hesperus: lo! upon his silver wings
He leans away for highest heaven and sings,
Snapping his lucid fingers merrily!
Ah, Zephyrus! art here, and Flora too!
Ye tender bibbers of the rain and dew,
Young playmates of the rose and daffodil,
Be careful, ere ye enter in, to fill
Your baskets high
With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines,
Savory, latter-mint, and columbines,
Cool parsley, basil sweet, and sunny thyme;
Yea, every flower and leaf of every clime,
All gather'd in the dewy morning: hie
Away! fly, fly!
Crystalline brother of the belt of heaven,
Aquarius! to whom king Jove has given
Two liquid pulse streams 'stead of feather'd wings,
Two fan-like fountains,thine illuminings
For Dian play:
Dissolve the frozen purity of air;
Let thy white shoulders silvery and bare
Shew cold through watery pinions; make more bright
The Star-Queen's crescent on her marriage night:
Haste, haste away!
Castor has tamed the planet Lion, see!
And of the Bear has Pollux mastery:
A third is in the race! who is the third,
Speeding away swift as the eagle bird?
The ramping Centaur!
The Lion's mane's on end: the Bear how fierce!
The Centaur's arrow ready seems to pierce
Some enemy: far forth his bow is bent
Into the blue of heaven. He'll be shent,
Pale unrelentor,
When he shall hear the wedding lutes a playing.
Andromeda! sweet woman! why delaying
So timidly among the stars: come hither!
Join this bright throng, and nimbly follow whither
They all are going.
Danae's Son, before Jove newly bow'd,
Has wept for thee, calling to Jove aloud.
Thee, gentle lady, did he disenthral:
Ye shall for ever live and love, for all
Thy tears are flowing.
By Daphne's fright, behold Apollo!"
More
Endymion heard not: down his steed him bore,
Prone to the green head of a misty hill.
His first touch of the earth went nigh to kill.
"Alas!" said he, "were I but always borne
Through dangerous winds, had but my footsteps worn
A path in hell, for ever would I bless
Horrors which nourish an uneasiness
For my own sullen conquering: to him
Who lives beyond earth's boundary, grief is dim,
Sorrow is but a shadow: now I see
The grass; I feel the solid groundAh, me!
It is thy voicedivinest! Where?who? who
Left thee so quiet on this bed of dew?
Behold upon this happy earth we are;
Let us ay love each other; let us fare
On forest-fruits, and never, never go
Among the abodes of mortals here below,
Or be by phantoms duped. O destiny!
Into a labyrinth now my soul would fly,
But with thy beauty will I deaden it.
Where didst thou melt too? By thee will I sit
For ever: let our fate stop herea kid
I on this spot will offer: Pan will bid
Us live in peace, in love and peace among
His forest wildernesses. I have clung
To nothing, lov'd a nothing, nothing seen
Or felt but a great dream! O I have been
Presumptuous against love, against the sky,
Against all elements, against the tie
Of mortals each to each, against the blooms
Of flowers, rush of rivers, and the tombs
Of heroes gone! Against his proper glory
Has my own soul conspired: so my story
Will I to children utter, and repent.
There never liv'd a mortal man, who bent
His appetite beyond his natural sphere,
But starv'd and died. My sweetest Indian, here,
Here will I kneel, for thou redeemed hast
My life from too thin breathing: gone and past
Are cloudy phantasms. Caverns lone, farewel!
And air of visions, and the monstrous swell
Of visionary seas! No, never more
Shall airy voices cheat me to the shore
Of tangled wonder, breathless and aghast.
Adieu, my daintiest Dream! although so vast
My love is still for thee. The hour may come
When we shall meet in pure elysium.
On earth I may not love thee; and therefore
Doves will I offer up, and sweetest store
All through the teeming year: so thou wilt shine
On me, and on this damsel fair of mine,
And bless our simple lives. My Indian bliss!
My river-lily bud! one human kiss!
One sigh of real breathone gentle squeeze,
Warm as a dove's nest among summer trees,
And warm with dew at ooze from living blood!
Whither didst melt? Ah, what of that!all good
We'll talk aboutno more of dreaming.Now,
Where shall our dwelling be? Under the brow
Of some steep mossy hill, where ivy dun
Would hide us up, although spring leaves were none;
And where dark yew trees, as we rustle through,
Will drop their scarlet berry cups of dew?
O thou wouldst joy to live in such a place;
Dusk for our loves, yet light enough to grace
Those gentle limbs on mossy bed reclin'd:
For by one step the blue sky shouldst thou find,
And by another, in deep dell below,
See, through the trees, a little river go
All in its mid-day gold and glimmering.
Honey from out the gnarled hive I'll bring,
And apples, wan with sweetness, gather thee,
Cresses that grow where no man may them see,
And sorrel untorn by the dew-claw'd stag:
Pipes will I fashion of the syrinx flag,
That thou mayst always know whither I roam,
When it shall please thee in our quiet home
To listen and think of love. Still let me speak;
Still let me dive into the joy I seek,
For yet the past doth prison me. The rill,
Thou haply mayst delight in, will I fill
With fairy fishes from the mountain tarn,
And thou shalt feed them from the squirrel's barn.
Its bottom will I strew with amber shells,
And pebbles blue from deep enchanted wells.
Its sides I'll plant with dew-sweet eglantine,
And honeysuckles full of clear bee-wine.
I will entice this crystal rill to trace
Love's silver name upon the meadow's face.
I'll kneel to Vesta, for a flame of fire;
And to god Phoebus, for a golden lyre;
To Empress Dian, for a hunting spear;
To Vesper, for a taper silver-clear,
That I may see thy beauty through the night;
To Flora, and a nightingale shall light
Tame on thy finger; to the River-gods,
And they shall bring thee taper fishing-rods
Of gold, and lines of Naiads' long bright tress.
Heaven shield thee for thine utter loveliness!
Thy mossy footstool shall the altar be
'Fore which I'll bend, bending, dear love, to thee:
Those lips shall be my Delphos, and shall speak
Laws to my footsteps, colour to my cheek,
Trembling or stedfastness to this same voice,
And of three sweetest pleasurings the choice:
And that affectionate light, those diamond things,
Those eyes, those passions, those supreme pearl springs,
Shall be my grief, or twinkle me to pleasure.
Say, is not bliss within our perfect seisure?
O that I could not doubt?"
The mountaineer
Thus strove by fancies vain and crude to clear
His briar'd path to some tranquillity.
It gave bright gladness to his lady's eye,
And yet the tears she wept were tears of sorrow;
Answering thus, just as the golden morrow
Beam'd upward from the vallies of the east:
"O that the flutter of this heart had ceas'd,
Or the sweet name of love had pass'd away.
Young feather'd tyrant! by a swift decay
Wilt thou devote this body to the earth:
And I do think that at my very birth
I lisp'd thy blooming titles inwardly;
For at the first, first dawn and thought of thee,
With uplift hands I blest the stars of heaven.
Art thou not cruel? Ever have I striven
To think thee kind, but ah, it will not do!
When yet a child, I heard that kisses drew
Favour from thee, and so I kisses gave
To the void air, bidding them find out love:
But when I came to feel how far above
All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood,
All earthly pleasure, all imagin'd good,
Was the warm tremble of a devout kiss,
Even then, that moment, at the thought of this,
Fainting I fell into a bed of flowers,
And languish'd there three days. Ye milder powers,
Am I not cruelly wrong'd? Believe, believe
Me, dear Endymion, were I to weave
With my own fancies garlands of sweet life,
Thou shouldst be one of all. Ah, bitter strife!
I may not be thy love: I am forbidden
Indeed I amthwarted, affrighted, chidden,
By things I trembled at, and gorgon wrath.
Twice hast thou ask'd whither I went: henceforth
Ask me no more! I may not utter it,
Nor may I be thy love. We might commit
Ourselves at once to vengeance; we might die;
We might embrace and die: voluptuous thought!
Enlarge not to my hunger, or I'm caught
In trammels of perverse deliciousness.
No, no, that shall not be: thee will I bless,
And bid a long adieu."
The Carian
No word return'd: both lovelorn, silent, wan,
Into the vallies green together went.
Far wandering, they were perforce content
To sit beneath a fair lone beechen tree;
Nor at each other gaz'd, but heavily
Por'd on its hazle cirque of shedded leaves.
Endymion! unhappy! it nigh grieves
Me to behold thee thus in last extreme:
Ensky'd ere this, but truly that I deem
Truth the best music in a first-born song.
Thy lute-voic'd brother will I sing ere long,
And thou shalt aidhast thou not aided me?
Yes, moonlight Emperor! felicity
Has been thy meed for many thousand years;
Yet often have I, on the brink of tears,
Mourn'd as if yet thou wert a forester,
Forgetting the old tale.
He did not stir
His eyes from the dead leaves, or one small pulse
Of joy he might have felt. The spirit culls
Unfaded amaranth, when wild it strays
Through the old garden-ground of boyish days.
A little onward ran the very stream
By which he took his first soft poppy dream;
And on the very bark 'gainst which he leant
A crescent he had carv'd, and round it spent
His skill in little stars. The teeming tree
Had swollen and green'd the pious charactery,
But not ta'en out. Why, there was not a slope
Up which he had not fear'd the antelope;
And not a tree, beneath whose rooty shade
He had not with his tamed leopards play'd.
Nor could an arrow light, or javelin,
Fly in the air where his had never been
And yet he knew it not.
O treachery!
Why does his lady smile, pleasing her eye
With all his sorrowing? He sees her not.
But who so stares on him? His sister sure!
Peona of the woods!Can she endure
Impossiblehow dearly they embrace!
His lady smiles; delight is in her face;
It is no treachery.
"Dear brother mine!
Endymion, weep not so! Why shouldst thou pine
When all great Latmos so exalt wilt be?
Thank the great gods, and look not bitterly;
And speak not one pale word, and sigh no more.
Sure I will not believe thou hast such store
Of grief, to last thee to my kiss again.
Thou surely canst not bear a mind in pain,
Come hand in hand with one so beautiful.
Be happy both of you! for I will pull
The flowers of autumn for your coronals.
Pan's holy priest for young Endymion calls;
And when he is restor'd, thou, fairest dame,
Shalt be our queen. Now, is it not a shame
To see ye thus,not very, very sad?
Perhaps ye are too happy to be glad:
O feel as if it were a common day;
Free-voic'd as one who never was away.
No tongue shall ask, whence come ye? but ye shall
Be gods of your own rest imperial.
Not even I, for one whole month, will pry
Into the hours that have pass'd us by,
Since in my arbour I did sing to thee.
O Hermes! on this very night will be
A hymning up to Cynthia, queen of light;
For the soothsayers old saw yesternight
Good visions in the air,whence will befal,
As say these sages, health perpetual
To shepherds and their flocks; and furthermore,
In Dian's face they read the gentle lore:
Therefore for her these vesper-carols are.
Our friends will all be there from nigh and far.
Many upon thy death have ditties made;
And many, even now, their foreheads shade
With cypress, on a day of sacrifice.
New singing for our maids shalt thou devise,
And pluck the sorrow from our huntsmen's brows.
Tell me, my lady-queen, how to espouse
This wayward brother to his rightful joys!
His eyes are on thee bent, as thou didst poise
His fate most goddess-like. Help me, I pray,
To lureEndymion, dear brother, say
What ails thee?" He could bear no more, and so
Bent his soul fiercely like a spiritual bow,
And twang'd it inwardly, and calmly said:
"I would have thee my only friend, sweet maid!
My only visitor! not ignorant though,
That those deceptions which for pleasure go
'Mong men, are pleasures real as real may be:
But there are higher ones I may not see,
If impiously an earthly realm I take.
Since I saw thee, I have been wide awake
Night after night, and day by day, until
Of the empyrean I have drunk my fill.
Let it content thee, Sister, seeing me
More happy than betides mortality.
A hermit young, I'll live in mossy cave,
Where thou alone shalt come to me, and lave
Thy spirit in the wonders I shall tell.
Through me the shepherd realm shall prosper well;
For to thy tongue will I all health confide.
And, for my sake, let this young maid abide
With thee as a dear sister. Thou alone,
Peona, mayst return to me. I own
This may sound strangely: but when, dearest girl,
Thou seest it for my happiness, no pearl
Will trespass down those cheeks. Companion fair!
Wilt be content to dwell with her, to share
This sister's love with me?" Like one resign'd
And bent by circumstance, and thereby blind
In self-commitment, thus that meek unknown:
"Aye, but a buzzing by my ears has flown,
Of jubilee to Dian:truth I heard!
Well then, I see there is no little bird,
Tender soever, but is Jove's own care.
Long have I sought for rest, and, unaware,
Behold I find it! so exalted too!
So after my own heart! I knew, I knew
There was a place untenanted in it:
In that same void white Chastity shall sit,
And monitor me nightly to lone slumber.
With sanest lips I vow me to the number
Of Dian's sisterhood; and, kind lady,
With thy good help, this very night shall see
My future days to her fane consecrate."
As feels a dreamer what doth most create
His own particular fright, so these three felt:
Or like one who, in after ages, knelt
To Lucifer or Baal, when he'd pine
After a little sleep: or when in mine
Far under-ground, a sleeper meets his friends
Who know him not. Each diligently bends
Towards common thoughts and things for very fear;
Striving their ghastly malady to cheer,
By thinking it a thing of yes and no,
That housewives talk of. But the spirit-blow
Was struck, and all were dreamers. At the last
Endymion said: "Are not our fates all cast?
Why stand we here? Adieu, ye tender pair!
Adieu!" Whereat those maidens, with wild stare,
Walk'd dizzily away. Pained and hot
His eyes went after them, until they got
Near to a cypress grove, whose deadly maw,
In one swift moment, would what then he saw
Engulph for ever. "Stay!" he cried, "ah, stay!
Turn, damsels! hist! one word I have to say.
Sweet Indian, I would see thee once again.
It is a thing I dote on: so I'd fain,
Peona, ye should hand in hand repair
Into those holy groves, that silent are
Behind great Dian's temple. I'll be yon,
At vesper's earliest twinklethey are gone
But once, once, once again" At this he press'd
His hands against his face, and then did rest
His head upon a mossy hillock green,
And so remain'd as he a corpse had been
All the long day; save when he scantly lifted
His eyes abroad, to see how shadows shifted
With the slow move of time,sluggish and weary
Until the poplar tops, in journey dreary,
Had reach'd the river's brim. Then up he rose,
And, slowly as that very river flows,
Walk'd towards the temple grove with this lament:
"Why such a golden eve? The breeze is sent
Careful and soft, that not a leaf may fall
Before the serene father of them all
Bows down his summer head below the west.
Now am I of breath, speech, and speed possest,
But at the setting I must bid adieu
To her for the last time. Night will strew
On the damp grass myriads of lingering leaves,
And with them shall I die; nor much it grieves
To die, when summer dies on the cold sward.
Why, I have been a butterfly, a lord
Of flowers, garlands, love-knots, silly posies,
Groves, meadows, melodies, and arbour roses;
My kingdom's at its death, and just it is
That I should die with it: so in all this
We miscal grief, bale, sorrow, heartbreak, woe,
What is there to plain of? By Titan's foe
I am but rightly serv'd." So saying, he
Tripp'd lightly on, in sort of deathful glee;
Laughing at the clear stream and setting sun,
As though they jests had been: nor had he done
His laugh at nature's holy countenance,
Until that grove appear'd, as if perchance,
And then his tongue with sober seemlihed
Gave utterance as he entered: "Ha!" I said,
"King of the butterflies; but by this gloom,
And by old Rhadamanthus' tongue of doom,
This dusk religion, pomp of solitude,
And the Promethean clay by thief endued,
By old Saturnus' forelock, by his head
Shook with eternal palsy, I did wed
Myself to things of light from infancy;
And thus to be cast out, thus lorn to die,
Is sure enough to make a mortal man
Grow impious." So he inwardly began
On things for which no wording can be found;
Deeper and deeper sinking, until drown'd
Beyond the reach of music: for the choir
Of Cynthia he heard not, though rough briar
Nor muffling thicket interpos'd to dull
The vesper hymn, far swollen, soft and full,
Through the dark pillars of those sylvan aisles.
He saw not the two maidens, nor their smiles,
Wan as primroses gather'd at midnight
By chilly finger'd spring. "Unhappy wight!
Endymion!" said Peona, "we are here!
What wouldst thou ere we all are laid on bier?"
Then he embrac'd her, and his lady's hand
Press'd, saying:" Sister, I would have command,
If it were heaven's will, on our sad fate."
At which that dark-eyed stranger stood elate
And said, in a new voice, but sweet as love,
To Endymion's amaze: "By Cupid's dove,
And so thou shalt! and by the lily truth
Of my own breast thou shalt, beloved youth!"
And as she spake, into her face there came
Light, as reflected from a silver flame:
Her long black hair swell'd ampler, in display
Full golden; in her eyes a brighter day
Dawn'd blue and full of love. Aye, he beheld
Phoebe, his passion! joyous she upheld
Her lucid bow, continuing thus; "Drear, drear
Has our delaying been; but foolish fear
Withheld me first; and then decrees of fate;
And then 'twas fit that from this mortal state
Thou shouldst, my love, by some unlook'd for change
Be spiritualiz'd. Peona, we shall range
These forests, and to thee they safe shall be
As was thy cradle; hither shalt thou flee
To meet us many a time." Next Cynthia bright
Peona kiss'd, and bless'd with fair good night:
Her brother kiss'd her too, and knelt adown
Before his goddess, in a blissful swoon.
She gave her fair hands to him, and behold,
Before three swiftest kisses he had told,
They vanish'd far away!Peona went
Home through the gloomy wood in wonderment.
(line 2): This line originally began with 'O Mountain-born in the draft, where also 'while' stands cancelled in favour of 'by.'
(line 158): Keats has been supposed to have invented the variant 'spry' for 'spray' for convenience of rhyming, just as Shelley has been accused of inventing for like reasons the word 'uprest', for example, in Laon And Cythna, Canto III, Stanza xxi. Sandys, the translator of Ovid, may not be a very good authority; but he is not improbably Keats's authority for 'spry', and will certainly do in default of a better.
(line 273): The biblical dissyllabic form 'mayest' is clearly used by deliberate preference, for the line originally stood thus in the draft :
And I have told thee all that thou canst hear.
(line 298): Remember'd from its velvet summer song : The gentleness of summer wind seems to have been a cherished idea with Keats. Compare with Sleep And Poetry, line 1 --
'What is more gentle than a wind in summer?'
(line 585): This was originally a short line consisting of the words "Thine illuminings" alone. The whole stanza, ... was sent by Keats to his friend Baily for his "vote, pro or con," in a letter dated the 22nd of November 1817.
(line 668): An imagination in which Hunt would have found it difficult to discover the reality; but probably Keats had never seen the miserable platform of dry twigs that serves for "a dove's nest among summer trees."
(line 672): Endymion's imaginary home and employments as pictured in the next fifty lines may be compared with Shelley's AEgean island described so wonderfully in Epipsychidion. Both passages are thoroughly characteristic; and they show the divergence between the modes of thought and sentiment of the two men in a very marked way.
(line 885-86): A curious importation from Hebrew theology into a subject from Greek mythology. Compare St. Matthew, X, 29: "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father." Or, as made familiar to our childhood by the popular hymn-wright,---
'A little sparrow cannot fall,
Unnoticed, Lord, by Thee.'
In the finished manuscript the word "kist" occurs twice instead of "kiss'd" as in the first edition; but "bless'd" is not similarly transformed to "blest."
At the end of the draft Keats wrote "Burford Bridge Nov. 28, 1817--".
The imprint of Endymion is as follows:-- T. Miller, Printer, Noble Street, Cheapside. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
~ John Keats, Endymion - Book IV
,#NFDB
409:There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
From human pastures; or, O torturing fact!
Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd
Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe
Our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes. With not one tinge
Of sanctuary splendour, not a sight
Able to face an owl's, they still are dight
By the blear-eyed nations in empurpled vests,
And crowns, and turbans. With unladen breasts,
Save of blown self-applause, they proudly mount
To their spirit's perch, their being's high account,
Their tiptop nothings, their dull skies, their thrones
Amid the fierce intoxicating tones
Of trumpets, shoutings, and belabour'd drums,
And sudden cannon. Ah! how all this hums,
In wakeful ears, like uproar past and gone
Like thunder clouds that spake to Babylon,
And set those old Chaldeans to their tasks.
Are then regalities all gilded masks?
No, there are throned seats unscalable
But by a patient wing, a constant spell,
Or by ethereal things that, unconfin'd,
Can make a ladder of the eternal wind,
And poise about in cloudy thunder-tents
To watch the abysm-birth of elements.
Aye, 'bove the withering of old-lipp'd Fate
A thousand Powers keep religious state,
In water, fiery realm, and airy bourne;
And, silent as a consecrated urn,
Hold sphery sessions for a season due.
Yet few of these far majesties, ah, few!
Have bared their operations to this globe
Few, who with gorgeous pageantry enrobe
Our piece of heavenwhose benevolence
Shakes hand with our own Ceres; every sense
Filling with spiritual sweets to plenitude,
As bees gorge full their cells. And, by the feud
'Twixt Nothing and Creation, I here swear,
Eterne Apollo! that thy Sister fair
Is of all these the gentlier-mightiest.
When thy gold breath is misting in the west,
She unobserved steals unto her throne,
And there she sits most meek and most alone;
As if she had not pomp subservient;
As if thine eye, high Poet! was not bent
Towards her with the Muses in thine heart;
As if the ministring stars kept not apart,
Waiting for silver-footed messages.
O Moon! the oldest shades 'mong oldest trees
Feel palpitations when thou lookest in:
O Moon! old boughs lisp forth a holier din
The while they feel thine airy fellowship.
Thou dost bless every where, with silver lip
Kissing dead things to life. The sleeping kine,
Couched in thy brightness, dream of fields divine:
Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,
Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes;
And yet thy benediction passeth not
One obscure hiding-place, one little spot
Where pleasure may be sent: the nested wren
Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken,
And from beneath a sheltering ivy leaf
Takes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief
To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps
Within its pearly house.The mighty deeps,
The monstrous sea is thinethe myriad sea!
O Moon! far-spooming Ocean bows to thee,
And Tellus feels his forehead's cumbrous load.
Cynthia! where art thou now? What far abode
Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine
Such utmost beauty? Alas, thou dost pine
For one as sorrowful: thy cheek is pale
For one whose cheek is pale: thou dost bewail
His tears, who weeps for thee. Where dost thou sigh?
Ah! surely that light peeps from Vesper's eye,
Or what a thing is love! 'Tis She, but lo!
How chang'd, how full of ache, how gone in woe!
She dies at the thinnest cloud; her loveliness
Is wan on Neptune's blue: yet there's a stress
Of love-spangles, just off yon cape of trees,
Dancing upon the waves, as if to please
The curly foam with amorous influence.
O, not so idle: for down-glancing thence
She fathoms eddies, and runs wild about
O'erwhelming water-courses; scaring out
The thorny sharks from hiding-holes, and fright'ning
Their savage eyes with unaccustomed lightning.
Where will the splendor be content to reach?
O love! how potent hast thou been to teach
Strange journeyings! Wherever beauty dwells,
In gulf or aerie, mountains or deep dells,
In light, in gloom, in star or blazing sun,
Thou pointest out the way, and straight 'tis won.
Amid his toil thou gav'st Leander breath;
Thou leddest Orpheus through the gleams of death;
Thou madest Pluto bear thin element;
And now, O winged Chieftain! thou hast sent
A moon-beam to the deep, deep water-world,
To find Endymion.
On gold sand impearl'd
With lily shells, and pebbles milky white,
Poor Cynthia greeted him, and sooth'd her light
Against his pallid face: he felt the charm
To breathlessness, and suddenly a warm
Of his heart's blood: 'twas very sweet; he stay'd
His wandering steps, and half-entranced laid
His head upon a tuft of straggling weeds,
To taste the gentle moon, and freshening beads,
Lashed from the crystal roof by fishes' tails.
And so he kept, until the rosy veils
Mantling the east, by Aurora's peering hand
Were lifted from the water's breast, and fann'd
Into sweet air; and sober'd morning came
Meekly through billows:when like taper-flame
Left sudden by a dallying breath of air,
He rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare
Along his fated way.
Far had he roam'd,
With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam'd
Above, around, and at his feet; save things
More dead than Morpheus' imaginings:
Old rusted anchors, helmets, breast-plates large
Of gone sea-warriors; brazen beaks and targe;
Rudders that for a hundred years had lost
The sway of human hand; gold vase emboss'd
With long-forgotten story, and wherein
No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin
But those of Saturn's vintage; mouldering scrolls,
Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls
Who first were on the earth; and sculptures rude
In ponderous stone, developing the mood
Of ancient Nox;then skeletons of man,
Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan,
And elephant, and eagle, and huge jaw
Of nameless monster. A cold leaden awe
These secrets struck into him; and unless
Dian had chaced away that heaviness,
He might have died: but now, with cheered feel,
He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to steal
About the labyrinth in his soul of love.
"What is there in thee, Moon! that thou shouldst move
My heart so potently? When yet a child
I oft have dried my tears when thou hast smil'd.
Thou seem'dst my sister: hand in hand we went
From eve to morn across the firmament.
No apples would I gather from the tree,
Till thou hadst cool'd their cheeks deliciously:
No tumbling water ever spake romance,
But when my eyes with thine thereon could dance:
No woods were green enough, no bower divine,
Until thou liftedst up thine eyelids fine:
In sowing time ne'er would I dibble take,
Or drop a seed, till thou wast wide awake;
And, in the summer tide of blossoming,
No one but thee hath heard me blithly sing
And mesh my dewy flowers all the night.
No melody was like a passing spright
If it went not to solemnize thy reign.
Yes, in my boyhood, every joy and pain
By thee were fashion'd to the self-same end;
And as I grew in years, still didst thou blend
With all my ardours: thou wast the deep glen;
Thou wast the mountain-topthe sage's pen
The poet's harpthe voice of friendsthe sun;
Thou wast the riverthou wast glory won;
Thou wast my clarion's blastthou wast my steed
My goblet full of winemy topmost deed:
Thou wast the charm of women, lovely Moon!
O what a wild and harmonized tune
My spirit struck from all the beautiful!
On some bright essence could I lean, and lull
Myself to immortality: I prest
Nature's soft pillow in a wakeful rest.
But, gentle Orb! there came a nearer bliss
My strange love cameFelicity's abyss!
She came, and thou didst fade, and fade away
Yet not entirely; no, thy starry sway
Has been an under-passion to this hour.
Now I begin to feel thine orby power
Is coming fresh upon me: O be kind,
Keep back thine influence, and do not blind
My sovereign vision.Dearest love, forgive
That I can think away from thee and live!
Pardon me, airy planet, that I prize
One thought beyond thine argent luxuries!
How far beyond!" At this a surpris'd start
Frosted the springing verdure of his heart;
For as he lifted up his eyes to swear
How his own goddess was past all things fair,
He saw far in the concave green of the sea
An old man sitting calm and peacefully.
Upon a weeded rock this old man sat,
And his white hair was awful, and a mat
Of weeds were cold beneath his cold thin feet;
And, ample as the largest winding-sheet,
A cloak of blue wrapp'd up his aged bones,
O'erwrought with symbols by the deepest groans
Of ambitious magic: every ocean-form
Was woven in with black distinctness; storm,
And calm, and whispering, and hideous roar
Were emblem'd in the woof; with every shape
That skims, or dives, or sleeps, 'twixt cape and cape.
The gulphing whale was like a dot in the spell,
Yet look upon it, and 'twould size and swell
To its huge self; and the minutest fish
Would pass the very hardest gazer's wish,
And show his little eye's anatomy.
Then there was pictur'd the regality
Of Neptune; and the sea nymphs round his state,
In beauteous vassalage, look up and wait.
Beside this old man lay a pearly wand,
And in his lap a book, the which he conn'd
So stedfastly, that the new denizen
Had time to keep him in amazed ken,
To mark these shadowings, and stand in awe.
The old man rais'd his hoary head and saw
The wilder'd strangerseeming not to see,
His features were so lifeless. Suddenly
He woke as from a trance; his snow-white brows
Went arching up, and like two magic ploughs
Furrow'd deep wrinkles in his forehead large,
Which kept as fixedly as rocky marge,
Till round his wither'd lips had gone a smile.
Then up he rose, like one whose tedious toil
Had watch'd for years in forlorn hermitage,
Who had not from mid-life to utmost age
Eas'd in one accent his o'er-burden'd soul,
Even to the trees. He rose: he grasp'd his stole,
With convuls'd clenches waving it abroad,
And in a voice of solemn joy, that aw'd
Echo into oblivion, he said:
"Thou art the man! Now shall I lay my head
In peace upon my watery pillow: now
Sleep will come smoothly to my weary brow.
O Jove! I shall be young again, be young!
O shell-borne Neptune, I am pierc'd and stung
With new-born life! What shall I do? Where go,
When I have cast this serpent-skin of woe?
I'll swim to the syrens, and one moment listen
Their melodies, and see their long hair glisten;
Anon upon that giant's arm I'll be,
That writhes about the roots of Sicily:
To northern seas I'll in a twinkling sail,
And mount upon the snortings of a whale
To some black cloud; thence down I'll madly sweep
On forked lightning, to the deepest deep,
Where through some sucking pool I will be hurl'd
With rapture to the other side of the world!
O, I am full of gladness! Sisters three,
I bow full hearted to your old decree!
Yes, every god be thank'd, and power benign,
For I no more shall wither, droop, and pine.
Thou art the man!" Endymion started back
Dismay'd; and, like a wretch from whom the rack
Tortures hot breath, and speech of agony,
Mutter'd: "What lonely death am I to die
In this cold region? Will he let me freeze,
And float my brittle limbs o'er polar seas?
Or will he touch me with his searing hand,
And leave a black memorial on the sand?
Or tear me piece-meal with a bony saw,
And keep me as a chosen food to draw
His magian fish through hated fire and flame?
O misery of hell! resistless, tame,
Am I to be burnt up? No, I will shout,
Until the gods through heaven's blue look out!
O Tartarus! but some few days agone
Her soft arms were entwining me, and on
Her voice I hung like fruit among green leaves:
Her lips were all my own, andah, ripe sheaves
Of happiness! ye on the stubble droop,
But never may be garner'd. I must stoop
My head, and kiss death's foot. Love! love, farewel!
Is there no hope from thee? This horrid spell
Would melt at thy sweet breath.By Dian's hind
Feeding from her white fingers, on the wind
I see thy streaming hair! and now, by Pan,
I care not for this old mysterious man!"
He spake, and walking to that aged form,
Look'd high defiance. Lo! his heart 'gan warm
With pity, for the grey-hair'd creature wept.
Had he then wrong'd a heart where sorrow kept?
Had he, though blindly contumelious, brought
Rheum to kind eyes, a sting to human thought,
Convulsion to a mouth of many years?
He had in truth; and he was ripe for tears.
The penitent shower fell, as down he knelt
Before that care-worn sage, who trembling felt
About his large dark locks, and faultering spake:
"Arise, good youth, for sacred Phoebus' sake!
I know thine inmost bosom, and I feel
A very brother's yearning for thee steal
Into mine own: for why? thou openest
The prison gates that have so long opprest
My weary watching. Though thou know'st it not,
Thou art commission'd to this fated spot
For great enfranchisement. O weep no more;
I am a friend to love, to loves of yore:
Aye, hadst thou never lov'd an unknown power
I had been grieving at this joyous hour
But even now most miserable old,
I saw thee, and my blood no longer cold
Gave mighty pulses: in this tottering case
Grew a new heart, which at this moment plays
As dancingly as thine. Be not afraid,
For thou shalt hear this secret all display'd,
Now as we speed towards our joyous task."
So saying, this young soul in age's mask
Went forward with the Carian side by side:
Resuming quickly thus; while ocean's tide
Hung swollen at their backs, and jewel'd sands
Took silently their foot-prints. "My soul stands
Now past the midway from mortality,
And so I can prepare without a sigh
To tell thee briefly all my joy and pain.
I was a fisher once, upon this main,
And my boat danc'd in every creek and bay;
Rough billows were my home by night and day,
The sea-gulls not more constant; for I had
No housing from the storm and tempests mad,
But hollow rocks,and they were palaces
Of silent happiness, of slumberous ease:
Long years of misery have told me so.
Aye, thus it was one thousand years ago.
One thousand years!Is it then possible
To look so plainly through them? to dispel
A thousand years with backward glance sublime?
To breathe away as 'twere all scummy slime
From off a crystal pool, to see its deep,
And one's own image from the bottom peep?
Yes: now I am no longer wretched thrall,
My long captivity and moanings all
Are but a slime, a thin-pervading scum,
The which I breathe away, and thronging come
Like things of yesterday my youthful pleasures.
"I touch'd no lute, I sang not, trod no measures:
I was a lonely youth on desert shores.
My sports were lonely, 'mid continuous roars,
And craggy isles, and sea-mew's plaintive cry
Plaining discrepant between sea and sky.
Dolphins were still my playmates; shapes unseen
Would let me feel their scales of gold and green,
Nor be my desolation; and, full oft,
When a dread waterspout had rear'd aloft
Its hungry hugeness, seeming ready ripe
To burst with hoarsest thunderings, and wipe
My life away like a vast sponge of fate,
Some friendly monster, pitying my sad state,
Has dived to its foundations, gulph'd it down,
And left me tossing safely. But the crown
Of all my life was utmost quietude:
More did I love to lie in cavern rude,
Keeping in wait whole days for Neptune's voice,
And if it came at last, hark, and rejoice!
There blush'd no summer eve but I would steer
My skiff along green shelving coasts, to hear
The shepherd's pipe come clear from aery steep,
Mingled with ceaseless bleatings of his sheep:
And never was a day of summer shine,
But I beheld its birth upon the brine:
For I would watch all night to see unfold
Heaven's gates, and Aethon snort his morning gold
Wide o'er the swelling streams: and constantly
At brim of day-tide, on some grassy lea,
My nets would be spread out, and I at rest.
The poor folk of the sea-country I blest
With daily boon of fish most delicate:
They knew not whence this bounty, and elate
Would strew sweet flowers on a sterile beach.
"Why was I not contented? Wherefore reach
At things which, but for thee, O Latmian!
Had been my dreary death? Fool! I began
To feel distemper'd longings: to desire
The utmost privilege that ocean's sire
Could grant in benediction: to be free
Of all his kingdom. Long in misery
I wasted, ere in one extremest fit
I plung'd for life or death. To interknit
One's senses with so dense a breathing stuff
Might seem a work of pain; so not enough
Can I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,
And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt
Whole days and days in sheer astonishment;
Forgetful utterly of self-intent;
Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.
Then, like a new fledg'd bird that first doth shew
His spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,
I tried in fear the pinions of my will.
'Twas freedom! and at once I visited
The ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed.
No need to tell thee of them, for I see
That thou hast been a witnessit must be
For these I know thou canst not feel a drouth,
By the melancholy corners of that mouth.
So I will in my story straightway pass
To more immediate matter. Woe, alas!
That love should be my bane! Ah, Scylla fair!
Why did poor Glaucus everever dare
To sue thee to his heart? Kind stranger-youth!
I lov'd her to the very white of truth,
And she would not conceive it. Timid thing!
She fled me swift as sea-bird on the wing,
Round every isle, and point, and promontory,
From where large Hercules wound up his story
Far as Egyptian Nile. My passion grew
The more, the more I saw her dainty hue
Gleam delicately through the azure clear:
Until 'twas too fierce agony to bear;
And in that agony, across my grief
It flash'd, that Circe might find some relief
Cruel enchantress! So above the water
I rear'd my head, and look'd for Phoebus' daughter.
Aeaea's isle was wondering at the moon:
It seem'd to whirl around me, and a swoon
Left me dead-drifting to that fatal power.
"When I awoke, 'twas in a twilight bower;
Just when the light of morn, with hum of bees,
Stole through its verdurous matting of fresh trees.
How sweet, and sweeter! for I heard a lyre,
And over it a sighing voice expire.
It ceasedI caught light footsteps; and anon
The fairest face that morn e'er look'd upon
Push'd through a screen of roses. Starry Jove!
With tears, and smiles, and honey-words she wove
A net whose thraldom was more bliss than all
The range of flower'd Elysium. Thus did fall
The dew of her rich speech: "Ah! Art awake?
O let me hear thee speak, for Cupid's sake!
I am so oppress'd with joy! Why, I have shed
An urn of tears, as though thou wert cold dead;
And now I find thee living, I will pour
From these devoted eyes their silver store,
Until exhausted of the latest drop,
So it will pleasure thee, and force thee stop
Here, that I too may live: but if beyond
Such cool and sorrowful offerings, thou art fond
Of soothing warmth, of dalliance supreme;
If thou art ripe to taste a long love dream;
If smiles, if dimples, tongues for ardour mute,
Hang in thy vision like a tempting fruit,
O let me pluck it for thee." Thus she link'd
Her charming syllables, till indistinct
Their music came to my o'er-sweeten'd soul;
And then she hover'd over me, and stole
So near, that if no nearer it had been
This furrow'd visage thou hadst never seen.
"Young man of Latmos! thus particular
Am I, that thou may'st plainly see how far
This fierce temptation went: and thou may'st not
Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot?
"Who could resist? Who in this universe?
She did so breathe ambrosia; so immerse
My fine existence in a golden clime.
She took me like a child of suckling time,
And cradled me in roses. Thus condemn'd,
The current of my former life was stemm'd,
And to this arbitrary queen of sense
I bow'd a tranced vassal: nor would thence
Have mov'd, even though Amphion's harp had woo'd
Me back to Scylla o'er the billows rude.
For as Apollo each eve doth devise
A new appareling for western skies;
So every eve, nay every spendthrift hour
Shed balmy consciousness within that bower.
And I was free of haunts umbrageous;
Could wander in the mazy forest-house
Of squirrels, foxes shy, and antler'd deer,
And birds from coverts innermost and drear
Warbling for very joy mellifluous sorrow
To me new born delights!
"Now let me borrow,
For moments few, a temperament as stern
As Pluto's sceptre, that my words not burn
These uttering lips, while I in calm speech tell
How specious heaven was changed to real hell.
"One morn she left me sleeping: half awake
I sought for her smooth arms and lips, to slake
My greedy thirst with nectarous camel-draughts;
But she was gone. Whereat the barbed shafts
Of disappointment stuck in me so sore,
That out I ran and search'd the forest o'er.
Wandering about in pine and cedar gloom
Damp awe assail'd me; for there 'gan to boom
A sound of moan, an agony of sound,
Sepulchral from the distance all around.
Then came a conquering earth-thunder, and rumbled
That fierce complain to silence: while I stumbled
Down a precipitous path, as if impell'd.
I came to a dark valley.Groanings swell'd
Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,
The nearer I approach'd a flame's gaunt blue,
That glar'd before me through a thorny brake.
This fire, like the eye of gordian snake,
Bewitch'd me towards; and I soon was near
A sight too fearful for the feel of fear:
In thicket hid I curs'd the haggard scene
The banquet of my arms, my arbour queen,
Seated upon an uptorn forest root;
And all around her shapes, wizard and brute,
Laughing, and wailing, groveling, serpenting,
Shewing tooth, tusk, and venom-bag, and sting!
O such deformities! Old Charon's self,
Should he give up awhile his penny pelf,
And take a dream 'mong rushes Stygian,
It could not be so phantasied. Fierce, wan,
And tyrannizing was the lady's look,
As over them a gnarled staff she shook.
Oft-times upon the sudden she laugh'd out,
And from a basket emptied to the rout
Clusters of grapes, the which they raven'd quick
And roar'd for more; with many a hungry lick
About their shaggy jaws. Avenging, slow,
Anon she took a branch of mistletoe,
And emptied on't a black dull-gurgling phial:
Groan'd one and all, as if some piercing trial
Was sharpening for their pitiable bones.
She lifted up the charm: appealing groans
From their poor breasts went sueing to her ear
In vain; remorseless as an infant's bier
She whisk'd against their eyes the sooty oil.
Whereat was heard a noise of painful toil,
Increasing gradual to a tempest rage,
Shrieks, yells, and groans of torture-pilgrimage;
Until their grieved bodies 'gan to bloat
And puff from the tail's end to stifled throat:
Then was appalling silence: then a sight
More wildering than all that hoarse affright;
For the whole herd, as by a whirlwind writhen,
Went through the dismal air like one huge Python
Antagonizing Boreas,and so vanish'd.
Yet there was not a breath of wind: she banish'd
These phantoms with a nod. Lo! from the dark
Came waggish fauns, and nymphs, and satyrs stark,
With dancing and loud revelry,and went
Swifter than centaurs after rapine bent.
Sighing an elephant appear'd and bow'd
Before the fierce witch, speaking thus aloud
In human accent: "Potent goddess! chief
Of pains resistless! make my being brief,
Or let me from this heavy prison fly:
Or give me to the air, or let me die!
I sue not for my happy crown again;
I sue not for my phalanx on the plain;
I sue not for my lone, my widow'd wife;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys!
I will forget them; I will pass these joys;
Ask nought so heavenward, so tootoo high:
Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die,
Or be deliver'd from this cumbrous flesh,
From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,
And merely given to the cold bleak air.
Have mercy, Goddess! Circe, feel my prayer!"
That curst magician's name fell icy numb
Upon my wild conjecturing: truth had come
Naked and sabre-like against my heart.
I saw a fury whetting a death-dart;
And my slain spirit, overwrought with fright,
Fainted away in that dark lair of night.
Think, my deliverer, how desolate
My waking must have been! disgust, and hate,
And terrors manifold divided me
A spoil amongst them. I prepar'd to flee
Into the dungeon core of that wild wood:
I fled three dayswhen lo! before me stood
Glaring the angry witch. O Dis, even now,
A clammy dew is beading on my brow,
At mere remembering her pale laugh, and curse.
"Ha! ha! Sir Dainty! there must be a nurse
Made of rose leaves and thistledown, express,
To cradle thee my sweet, and lull thee: yes,
I am too flinty-hard for thy nice touch:
My tenderest squeeze is but a giant's clutch.
So, fairy-thing, it shall have lullabies
Unheard of yet; and it shall still its cries
Upon some breast more lily-feminine.
Oh, noit shall not pine, and pine, and pine
More than one pretty, trifling thousand years;
And then 'twere pity, but fate's gentle shears
Cut short its immortality. Sea-flirt!
Young dove of the waters! truly I'll not hurt
One hair of thine: see how I weep and sigh,
That our heart-broken parting is so nigh.
And must we part? Ah, yes, it must be so.
Yet ere thou leavest me in utter woe,
Let me sob over thee my last adieus,
And speak a blessing: Mark me! thou hast thews
Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race:
But such a love is mine, that here I chase
Eternally away from thee all bloom
Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb.
Hence shalt thou quickly to the watery vast;
And there, ere many days be overpast,
Disabled age shall seize thee; and even then
Thou shalt not go the way of aged men;
But live and wither, cripple and still breathe
Ten hundred years: which gone, I then bequeath
Thy fragile bones to unknown burial.
Adieu, sweet love, adieu!"As shot stars fall,
She fled ere I could groan for mercy. Stung
And poisoned was my spirit: despair sung
A war-song of defiance 'gainst all hell.
A hand was at my shoulder to compel
My sullen steps; another 'fore my eyes
Moved on with pointed finger. In this guise
Enforced, at the last by ocean's foam
I found me; by my fresh, my native home.
Its tempering coolness, to my life akin,
Came salutary as I waded in;
And, with a blind voluptuous rage, I gave
Battle to the swollen billow-ridge, and drave
Large froth before me, while there yet remain'd
Hale strength, nor from my bones all marrow drain'd.
"Young lover, I must weepsuch hellish spite
With dry cheek who can tell? While thus my might
Proving upon this element, dismay'd,
Upon a dead thing's face my hand I laid;
I look'd'twas Scylla! Cursed, cursed Circe!
O vulture-witch, hast never heard of mercy?
Could not thy harshest vengeance be content,
But thou must nip this tender innocent
Because I lov'd her?Cold, O cold indeed
Were her fair limbs, and like a common weed
The sea-swell took her hair. Dead as she was
I clung about her waist, nor ceas'd to pass
Fleet as an arrow through unfathom'd brine,
Until there shone a fabric crystalline,
Ribb'd and inlaid with coral, pebble, and pearl.
Headlong I darted; at one eager swirl
Gain'd its bright portal, enter'd, and behold!
'Twas vast, and desolate, and icy-cold;
And all aroundBut wherefore this to thee
Who in few minutes more thyself shalt see?
I left poor Scylla in a niche and fled.
My fever'd parchings up, my scathing dread
Met palsy half way: soon these limbs became
Gaunt, wither'd, sapless, feeble, cramp'd, and lame.
"Now let me pass a cruel, cruel space,
Without one hope, without one faintest trace
Of mitigation, or redeeming bubble
Of colour'd phantasy; for I fear 'twould trouble
Thy brain to loss of reason: and next tell
How a restoring chance came down to quell
One half of the witch in me. On a day,
Sitting upon a rock above the spray,
I saw grow up from the horizon's brink
A gallant vessel: soon she seem'd to sink
Away from me again, as though her course
Had been resum'd in spite of hindering force
So vanish'd: and not long, before arose
Dark clouds, and muttering of winds morose.
Old Eolus would stifle his mad spleen,
But could not: therefore all the billows green
Toss'd up the silver spume against the clouds.
The tempest came: I saw that vessel's shrouds
In perilous bustle; while upon the deck
Stood trembling creatures. I beheld the wreck;
The final gulphing; the poor struggling souls:
I heard their cries amid loud thunder-rolls.
O they had all been sav'd but crazed eld
Annull'd my vigorous cravings: and thus quell'd
And curb'd, think on't, O Latmian! did I sit
Writhing with pity, and a cursing fit
Against that hell-born Circe. The crew had gone,
By one and one, to pale oblivion;
And I was gazing on the surges prone,
With many a scalding tear and many a groan,
When at my feet emerg'd an old man's hand,
Grasping this scroll, and this same slender wand.
I knelt with painreached out my handhad grasp'd
These treasurestouch'd the knucklesthey unclasp'd
I caught a finger: but the downward weight
O'erpowered meit sank. Then 'gan abate
The storm, and through chill aguish gloom outburst
The comfortable sun. I was athirst
To search the book, and in the warming air
Parted its dripping leaves with eager care.
Strange matters did it treat of, and drew on
My soul page after page, till well-nigh won
Into forgetfulness; when, stupefied,
I read these words, and read again, and tried
My eyes against the heavens, and read again.
O what a load of misery and pain
Each Atlas-line bore off!a shine of hope
Came gold around me, cheering me to cope
Strenuous with hellish tyranny. Attend!
For thou hast brought their promise to an end.
"In the wide sea there lives a forlorn wretch,
Doom'd with enfeebled carcase to outstretch
His loath'd existence through ten centuries,
And then to die alone. Who can devise
A total opposition? No one. So
One million times ocean must ebb and flow,
And he oppressed. Yet he shall not die,
These things accomplish'd:If he utterly
Scans all the depths of magic, and expounds
The meanings of all motions, shapes, and sounds;
If he explores all forms and substances
Straight homeward to their symbol-essences;
He shall not die. Moreover, and in chief,
He must pursue this task of joy and grief
Most piously;all lovers tempest-tost,
And in the savage overwhelming lost,
He shall deposit side by side, until
Time's creeping shall the dreary space fulfil:
Which done, and all these labours ripened,
A youth, by heavenly power lov'd and led,
Shall stand before him; whom he shall direct
How to consummate all. The youth elect
Must do the thing, or both will be destroy'd."
"Then," cried the young Endymion, overjoy'd,
"We are twin brothers in this destiny!
Say, I intreat thee, what achievement high
Is, in this restless world, for me reserv'd.
What! if from thee my wandering feet had swerv'd,
Had we both perish'd?""Look!" the sage replied,
"Dost thou not mark a gleaming through the tide,
Of divers brilliances? 'tis the edifice
I told thee of, where lovely Scylla lies;
And where I have enshrined piously
All lovers, whom fell storms have doom'd to die
Throughout my bondage." Thus discoursing, on
They went till unobscur'd the porches shone;
Which hurryingly they gain'd, and enter'd straight.
Sure never since king Neptune held his state
Was seen such wonder underneath the stars.
Turn to some level plain where haughty Mars
Has legion'd all his battle; and behold
How every soldier, with firm foot, doth hold
His even breast: see, many steeled squares,
And rigid ranks of ironwhence who dares
One step? Imagine further, line by line,
These warrior thousands on the field supine:
So in that crystal place, in silent rows,
Poor lovers lay at rest from joys and woes.
The stranger from the mountains, breathless, trac'd
Such thousands of shut eyes in order plac'd;
Such ranges of white feet, and patient lips
All ruddy,for here death no blossom nips.
He mark'd their brows and foreheads; saw their hair
Put sleekly on one side with nicest care;
And each one's gentle wrists, with reverence,
Put cross-wise to its heart.
"Let us commence,
Whisper'd the guide, stuttering with joy, even now."
He spake, and, trembling like an aspen-bough,
Began to tear his scroll in pieces small,
Uttering the while some mumblings funeral.
He tore it into pieces small as snow
That drifts unfeather'd when bleak northerns blow;
And having done it, took his dark blue cloak
And bound it round Endymion: then struck
His wand against the empty air times nine.
"What more there is to do, young man, is thine:
But first a little patience; first undo
This tangled thread, and wind it to a clue.
Ah, gentle! 'tis as weak as spider's skein;
And shouldst thou break itWhat, is it done so clean?
A power overshadows thee! Oh, brave!
The spite of hell is tumbling to its grave.
Here is a shell; 'tis pearly blank to me,
Nor mark'd with any sign or charactery
Canst thou read aught? O read for pity's sake!
Olympus! we are safe! Now, Carian, break
This wand against yon lyre on the pedestal."
'Twas done: and straight with sudden swell and fall
Sweet music breath'd her soul away, and sigh'd
A lullaby to silence."Youth! now strew
These minced leaves on me, and passing through
Those files of dead, scatter the same around,
And thou wilt see the issue."'Mid the sound
Of flutes and viols, ravishing his heart,
Endymion from Glaucus stood apart,
And scatter'd in his face some fragments light.
How lightning-swift the change! a youthful wight
Smiling beneath a coral diadem,
Out-sparkling sudden like an upturn'd gem,
Appear'd, and, stepping to a beauteous corse,
Kneel'd down beside it, and with tenderest force
Press'd its cold hand, and weptand Scylla sigh'd!
Endymion, with quick hand, the charm applied
The nymph arose: he left them to their joy,
And onward went upon his high employ,
Showering those powerful fragments on the dead.
And, as he pass'd, each lifted up its head,
As doth a flower at Apollo's touch.
Death felt it to his inwards; 'twas too much:
Death fell a weeping in his charnel-house.
The Latmian persever'd along, and thus
All were re-animated. There arose
A noise of harmony, pulses and throes
Of gladness in the airwhile many, who
Had died in mutual arms devout and true,
Sprang to each other madly; and the rest
Felt a high certainty of being blest.
They gaz'd upon Endymion. Enchantment
Grew drunken, and would have its head and bent.
Delicious symphonies, like airy flowers,
Budded, and swell'd, and, full-blown, shed full showers
Of light, soft, unseen leaves of sounds divine.
The two deliverers tasted a pure wine
Of happiness, from fairy-press ooz'd out.
Speechless they eyed each other, and about
The fair assembly wander'd to and fro,
Distracted with the richest overflow
Of joy that ever pour'd from heaven.
"Away!"
Shouted the new-born god; "Follow, and pay
Our piety to Neptunus supreme!"
Then Scylla, blushing sweetly from her dream,
They led on first, bent to her meek surprise,
Through portal columns of a giant size,
Into the vaulted, boundless emerald.
Joyous all follow'd, as the leader call'd,
Down marble steps; pouring as easily
As hour-glass sandand fast, as you might see
Swallows obeying the south summer's call,
Or swans upon a gentle waterfall.
Thus went that beautiful multitude, nor far,
Ere from among some rocks of glittering spar,
Just within ken, they saw descending thick
Another multitude. Whereat more quick
Moved either host. On a wide sand they met,
And of those numbers every eye was wet;
For each their old love found. A murmuring rose,
Like what was never heard in all the throes
Of wind and waters: 'tis past human wit
To tell; 'tis dizziness to think of it.
This mighty consummation made, the host
Mov'd on for many a league; and gain'd, and lost
Huge sea-marks; vanward swelling in array,
And from the rear diminishing away,
Till a faint dawn surpris'd them. Glaucus cried,
"Behold! behold, the palace of his pride!
God Neptune's palaces!" With noise increas'd,
They shoulder'd on towards that brightening east.
At every onward step proud domes arose
In prospect,diamond gleams, and golden glows
Of amber 'gainst their faces levelling.
Joyous, and many as the leaves in spring,
Still onward; still the splendour gradual swell'd.
Rich opal domes were seen, on high upheld
By jasper pillars, letting through their shafts
A blush of coral. Copious wonder-draughts
Each gazer drank; and deeper drank more near:
For what poor mortals fragment up, as mere
As marble was there lavish, to the vast
Of one fair palace, that far far surpass'd,
Even for common bulk, those olden three,
Memphis, and Babylon, and Nineveh.
As large, as bright, as colour'd as the bow
Of Iris, when unfading it doth shew
Beyond a silvery shower, was the arch
Through which this Paphian army took its march,
Into the outer courts of Neptune's state:
Whence could be seen, direct, a golden gate,
To which the leaders sped; but not half raught
Ere it burst open swift as fairy thought,
And made those dazzled thousands veil their eyes
Like callow eagles at the first sunrise.
Soon with an eagle nativeness their gaze
Ripe from hue-golden swoons took all the blaze,
And then, behold! large Neptune on his throne
Of emerald deep: yet not exalt alone;
At his right hand stood winged Love, and on
His left sat smiling Beauty's paragon.
Far as the mariner on highest mast
Can see all round upon the calmed vast,
So wide was Neptune's hall: and as the blue
Doth vault the waters, so the waters drew
Their doming curtains, high, magnificent,
Aw'd from the throne aloof;and when storm-rent
Disclos'd the thunder-gloomings in Jove's air;
But sooth'd as now, flash'd sudden everywhere,
Noiseless, sub-marine cloudlets, glittering
Death to a human eye: for there did spring
From natural west, and east, and south, and north,
A light as of four sunsets, blazing forth
A gold-green zenith 'bove the Sea-God's head.
Of lucid depth the floor, and far outspread
As breezeless lake, on which the slim canoe
Of feather'd Indian darts about, as through
The delicatest air: air verily,
But for the portraiture of clouds and sky:
This palace floor breath-air,but for the amaze
Of deep-seen wonders motionless,and blaze
Of the dome pomp, reflected in extremes,
Globing a golden sphere.
They stood in dreams
Till Triton blew his horn. The palace rang;
The Nereids danc'd; the Syrens faintly sang;
And the great Sea-King bow'd his dripping head.
Then Love took wing, and from his pinions shed
On all the multitude a nectarous dew.
The ooze-born Goddess beckoned and drew
Fair Scylla and her guides to conference;
And when they reach'd the throned eminence
She kist the sea-nymph's cheek,who sat her down
A toying with the doves. Then,"Mighty crown
And sceptre of this kingdom!" Venus said,
"Thy vows were on a time to Nais paid:
Behold!"Two copious tear-drops instant fell
From the God's large eyes; he smil'd delectable,
And over Glaucus held his blessing hands.
"Endymion! Ah! still wandering in the bands
Of love? Now this is cruel. Since the hour
I met thee in earth's bosom, all my power
Have I put forth to serve thee. What, not yet
Escap'd from dull mortality's harsh net?
A little patience, youth! 'twill not be long,
Or I am skilless quite: an idle tongue,
A humid eye, and steps luxurious,
Where these are new and strange, are ominous.
Aye, I have seen these signs in one of heaven,
When others were all blind; and were I given
To utter secrets, haply I might say
Some pleasant words:but Love will have his day.
So wait awhile expectant. Pr'ythee soon,
Even in the passing of thine honey-moon,
Visit my Cytherea: thou wilt find
Cupid well-natured, my Adonis kind;
And pray persuade with theeAh, I have done,
All blisses be upon thee, my sweet son!"
Thus the fair goddess: while Endymion
Knelt to receive those accents halcyon.
Meantime a glorious revelry began
Before the Water-Monarch. Nectar ran
In courteous fountains to all cups outreach'd;
And plunder'd vines, teeming exhaustless, pleach'd
New growth about each shell and pendent lyre;
The which, in disentangling for their fire,
Pull'd down fresh foliage and coverture
For dainty toying. Cupid, empire-sure,
Flutter'd and laugh'd, and oft-times through the throng
Made a delighted way. Then dance, and song,
And garlanding grew wild; and pleasure reign'd.
In harmless tendril they each other chain'd,
And strove who should be smother'd deepest in
Fresh crush of leaves.
O 'tis a very sin
For one so weak to venture his poor verse
In such a place as this. O do not curse,
High Muses! let him hurry to the ending.
All suddenly were silent. A soft blending
Of dulcet instruments came charmingly;
And then a hymn.
"KING of the stormy sea!
Brother of Jove, and co-inheritor
Of elements! Eternally before
Thee the waves awful bow. Fast, stubborn rock,
At thy fear'd trident shrinking, doth unlock
Its deep foundations, hissing into foam.
All mountain-rivers lost, in the wide home
Of thy capacious bosom ever flow.
Thou frownest, and old Eolus thy foe
Skulks to his cavern, 'mid the gruff complaint
Of all his rebel tempests. Dark clouds faint
When, from thy diadem, a silver gleam
Slants over blue dominion. Thy bright team
Gulphs in the morning light, and scuds along
To bring thee nearer to that golden song
Apollo singeth, while his chariot
Waits at the doors of heaven. Thou art not
For scenes like this: an empire stern hast thou;
And it hath furrow'd that large front: yet now,
As newly come of heaven, dost thou sit
To blend and interknit
Subdued majesty with this glad time.
O shell-borne King sublime!
We lay our hearts before thee evermore
We sing, and we adore!
"Breathe softly, flutes;
Be tender of your strings, ye soothing lutes;
Nor be the trumpet heard! O vain, O vain;
Not flowers budding in an April rain,
Nor breath of sleeping dove, nor river's flow,
No, nor the Eolian twang of Love's own bow,
Can mingle music fit for the soft ear
Of goddess Cytherea!
Yet deign, white Queen of Beauty, thy fair eyes
On our souls' sacrifice.
"Bright-winged Child!
Who has another care when thou hast smil'd?
Unfortunates on earth, we see at last
All death-shadows, and glooms that overcast
Our spirits, fann'd away by thy light pinions.
O sweetest essence! sweetest of all minions!
God of warm pulses, and dishevell'd hair,
And panting bosoms bare!
Dear unseen light in darkness! eclipser
Of light in light! delicious poisoner!
Thy venom'd goblet will we quaff until
We fillwe fill!
And by thy Mother's lips"
Was heard no more
For clamour, when the golden palace door
Opened again, and from without, in shone
A new magnificence. On oozy throne
Smooth-moving came Oceanus the old,
To take a latest glimpse at his sheep-fold,
Before he went into his quiet cave
To muse for everThen a lucid wave,
Scoop'd from its trembling sisters of mid-sea,
Afloat, and pillowing up the majesty
Of Doris, and the Egean seer, her spouse
Next, on a dolphin, clad in laurel boughs,
Theban Amphion leaning on his lute:
His fingers went across itAll were mute
To gaze on Amphitrite, queen of pearls,
And Thetis pearly too.
The palace whirls
Around giddy Endymion; seeing he
Was there far strayed from mortality.
He could not bear itshut his eyes in vain;
Imagination gave a dizzier pain.
"O I shall die! sweet Venus, be my stay!
Where is my lovely mistress? Well-away!
I dieI hear her voiceI feel my wing"
At Neptune's feet he sank. A sudden ring
Of Nereids were about him, in kind strife
To usher back his spirit into life:
But still he slept. At last they interwove
Their cradling arms, and purpos'd to convey
Towards a crystal bower far away.
Lo! while slow carried through the pitying crowd,
To his inward senses these words spake aloud;
Written in star-light on the dark above:
Dearest Endymion! my entire love!
How have I dwelt in fear of fate: 'tis done
Immortal bliss for me too hast thou won.
Arise then! for the hen-dove shall not hatch
Her ready eggs, before I'll kissing snatch
Thee into endless heaven. Awake! awake!
The youth at once arose: a placid lake
Came quiet to his eyes; and forest green,
Cooler than all the wonders he had seen,
Lull'd with its simple song his fluttering breast.
How happy once again in grassy nest!
(line 1): Woodhouse notes that "Keats said, with much simplicity, 'It will be easily seen what I think of the present ministers, by the beginning of the third Book.'"
(line 407): Whether the reference is to the Pillars of Hercules, the confluence of the Mediterranean and Atlantic, or to the scene of the Death of Hercules, is not very clear; but probably "wound up his story" refers rather to his last labour than to his death on Mount ta.
(lines 863-65): This simile must surely be a reminiscence of Perrin's Fables Amusantes or some similar book used in Mr. Clarke's School. I remember the Fable of the old eagle and her young stood first in the book I used at school. The draft gives line 860 thus -- 'But soon like eagles natively their gaze...'
At the end of this Book Keats wrote in the draft, "Oxf: Sept. 26."
~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
~ John Keats, Endymion - Book III
,#NFDB
410: Book VIII: The Book of the Gods
So on the earth the seed that was sown of the centuries ripened;
Europe and Asia, met on their borders, clashed in the Troad.
All over earth men wept and bled and laboured, world-wide
Sowing Fate with their deeds and had other fruit than they hoped for,
Out of desires and their passionate griefs and fleeting enjoyments
Weaving a tapestry fit for the gods to admire, who in silence
Joy, by the cloud and the sunbeam veiled, and men know not their movers.
They in the glens of Olympus, they by the waters of Ida
Or in their temples worshipped in vain or with heart-strings of mortals
Sated their vast desire and enjoying the world and each other
Sported free and unscourged; for the earth was their prey and their playground.
But from his luminous deep domain, from his estate of azure
Zeus looked forth; he beheld the earth in its flowering greenness
Spread like an emerald dream that the eyes have enthroned in the sunlight,
Heard the symphonies old of the ocean recalling the ages
Lost and dead from its marches salt and unharvested furrows,
Felt in the pregnant hour the unborn hearts of the future.
Troubled kingdoms of men he beheld, the hind in the furrow,
Lords of the glebe and the serf subdued to the yoke of his fortunes,
Slavegirls tending the fire and herdsmen driving the cattle,
Artisans labouring long for a little hire in mens cities,
Labour long and the meagre reward for a toil that is priceless.
Kings in their seats august or marching swift with their armies
Founded ruthlessly brittle empires. Merchant and toiler
Patiently heaped up our transient wealth like the ants in their hillock.
And to preserve it all, to protect this dust that must perish,
Hurting the eternal soul and maiming heaven for some metal
Judges condemned their brothers to chains and to death and to torment,
Criminals scourgers of crime, for so are these ant-heaps founded,
Punishing sin by a worse affront to our crucified natures.
All the uncertainty, all the mistaking, all the delusion
Naked were to his gaze; in the moonlit orchards there wandered
Lovers dreaming of love that endurestill the moment of treason;
Helped by the anxious joy of their kindred supported their anguish
Women with travail racked for the child who shall rack them with sorrow.
Hopes that were confident, fates that sprang dire from the seed of a moment,
Yearning that claimed all time for its date and all life for its fuel,
All that we wonder at gazing back when the passion has fallen,
Labour blind and vain expense and sacrifice wasted,
These he beheld with a heart unshaken; to each side he studied
Seas of confused attempt and the strife and the din and the crying.
All things he pierced in us gazing down with his eyelids immortal,
Lids on which sleep dare not settle, the Father of men on his creatures;
Nor by the cloud and the mist was obscured which baffles our eyeballs,
But he distinguished our source and saw to the end of our labour.
He in the animal racked knew the god that is slowly delivered;
Therefore his heart rejoiced. Not alone the mind in its trouble
God beholds, but the spirit behind that has joy of the torture.
Might not our human gaze on the smoke of a furnace, the burning
Red, intolerable, anguish of ore that is fused in the hell-heat,
Shrink and yearn for coolness and peace and condemn all the labour?
Rather look to the purity coming, the steel in its beauty,
Rather rejoice with the master who stands in his gladness accepting
Heat of the glorious god and the fruitful pain of the iron.
Last the eternal gaze was fixed on Troy and the armies
Marching swift to the shock. It beheld the might of Achilles
Helmed and armed, knew all the craft in the brain of Odysseus,
Saw Deiphobus stern in his car and the fates of Aeneas,
Greece of her heroes empty, Troy enringed by her slayers,
Paris a setting star and the beauty of Penthesilea.
These things he saw delighted; the heart that contains all our ages
Blessed our toil and grew full of its fruits, as the Artist eternal
Watched his vehement drama staged twixt the sea and the mountains,
Phrased in the clamour and glitter of arms and closed by the firebrand,
Act itself out in blood and in passions fierce on the Troad.
Yet as a father his children, who sits in the peace of his study
Hearing the noise of his brood and pleased with their play and their quarrels,
So he beheld our mortal race. Then, turned from the armies,
Into his mind he gazed where Time is reflected and, conscient,
Knew the iron knot of our human fates in their warfare.
Calm he arose and left our earth for his limitless kingdoms.
Far from this lower blue and high in the death-scorning spaces
Lifted oer mortal mind where Time and Space are but figures
Lightly imagined by Thought divine in her luminous stillness,
Zeus has his palace high and there he has stabled his war-car.
Thence he descends to our mortal realms; where the heights of our mountains
Meet with the divine air, he touches and enters our regions.
Now he ascended back to his natural realms and their rapture,
There where all life is bliss and each feeling an ecstasy mastered.
Thence his eagle Thought with its flashing pinions extended
Winged through the world to the gods, and they came at the call, they ascended
Up from their play and their calm and their works through the infinite azure.
Some from our mortal domains in grove or by far-flowing river
Cool from the winds of the earth or quivering with perishable fragrance
Came, or our laughter they bore and the song of the sea in their paces.
Some from the heavens above us arrived, our vital dominions
Whence we draw breath; for there all things have life, the stone like the ilex,
Clay of those realms like the children of men and the brood of the giants.
There Enceladus groans oppressed and draws strength from his anguish
Under a living Aetna and flames that have joy of his entrails.
Fiercely he groans and rejoices expecting the end of his foemen
Hastened by every pang and counts long Time by his writhings.
There in the champaigns unending battle the gods and the giants,
There in eternal groves the lovers have pleasure for ever,
There are the faery climes and there are the wonderful pastures.
Some from a marvellous Paradise hundred-realmed in its musings,
Million-ecstasied, climbed like flames that in silence aspire
Windless, erect in a motionless dream, yet ascending for ever.
All grew aware of the will divine and were drawn to the Father.
Grandiose, calm in her gait, imperious, awing the regions,
Hera came in her pride, the spouse of Zeus and his sister.
As at her birth from the foam of the spaces white Aphrodite
Rose in the cloud of her golden hair like the moon in its halo.
Aegis-bearing Athene, shielded and helmeted, answered
Rushing the call and the heavens thrilled with the joy of her footsteps
Dumbly repeating her name, as insulted and trampled by beauty
Thrill might the soul of a lover and cry out the name of its tyrant.
Others there were as mighty; for Artemis, archeress ancient,
Came on her sandals lightning-tasselled. Up the vast incline
Shaking the world with the force of his advent thundered Poseidon;
Space grew full of his stride and his cry. Immortal Apollo
Shone and his silver clang was heard with alarm in our kingdoms.
Ares impetuous eyes looked forth from a cloud-drift of splendour;
Themis steps appeared and Ananke, the mystic Erinnys;
Nor was Hephaestus flaming strength from his father divided.
Even the ancient Dis to arrive dim-featured, eternal,
Seemed; but his rays are the shades and his voice is the call of the silence.
Into the courts divine they crowded, radiant, burning,
Perfect in utter grace and light. The joy of their spirits
Calls to eternal Time and the glories of Space are his answer:
Thence were these bright worlds born and persist by the throb of their heart-beats.
Not in the forms that mortals have seen when assisted they scatter
Mists of this earthly dust from their eyes in their moments of greatness
Shone those unaging Powers; nor as in our centuries radiant
Mortal-seeming bodies they wore when they mixed with our nations.
Then the long youth of the world had not faded still out of our natures,
Flowers and the sunlight were felt and the earth was glad like a mother.
Then for a human delight they were masked in this denser vesture
Earth desires for her bliss, thin veils, for the god through them glimmered.
Quick were mens days with the throng of the brilliant presences near them:
Gods from the wood and the valley, gods from the obvious wayside,
Gods on the secret hills leaped out from their light on the mortal.
Oft in the haunt and the grove they met with our kind and their touches
Seized and subjected our clay to the greatness of passions supernal,
Grasping the earthly virgin and forcing heaven on this death-dust.
Glorifying human beauty Apollo roamed in our regions
Clymene when he pursued or yearned in vain for Marpessa;
Glorifying earth with a human-seeming face of the beauty
Brought from her heavenly climes Aphrodite mixed with Anchises.
Glimpsed in the wilds were the Satyrs, seen in the woodlands the Graces,
Dryad and Naiad in river and forest, Oreads haunting
Glens and the mountain-glades where they played with the manes of our lions
Glimmered on death-claimed eyes; for the gods then were near us and clasped us,
Heaven leaned down in love with our clay and yearned to its transience.
But we have coarsened in heart and in mood; we have turned in our natures
Nearer our poorer kindred; leaned to the ant and the ferret.
Sight we have darkened with sense and power we have stifled with labour,
Likened in mood to the things we gaze at and are in our vestures:
Therefore we toil unhelped; we are left to our weakness and blindness.
Not in those veils now they rose to their skies, but like loose-fitting mantles
Dropped in the vestibules huge of their vigorous realms that besiege us
All that reminded of earth; then clothed with raiment of swiftness
Straight they went quivering up in a glory like fire or the storm-blast.
Even those natural vestures of puissance they leave when they enter
Minds more subtle fields and agree with its limitless regions
Peopled by creatures of bliss and forms more true than earths shadows,
Mind that pure from this density, throned in her splendours immortal
Looks up at Light and suffers bliss from ineffable kingdoms
Where beyond Mind and its rays is the gleam of a glory supernal:
There our sun cannot shine and our moon has no place for her lustres,
There our lightnings flash not, nor fire of these spaces is suffered.
They with bodies impalpable here to our touch and our seeing,
But for a higher delight, to a brighter sense, with more sweetness
Palpable there and visible, thrilled with a lordlier joyance,
Came to the courts of Zeus and his heavens sang to their footsteps.
Harmonies flowed through the blissful coils of the kingdoms of rapture.
Then by his mighty equals surrounded the Thunderer regnant
Veiled his thought in sound that was heard in their souls as they listened.
Veiled are the high gods always lest there should dawn on the mortal
Light too great from the skies and men to their destiny clear-eyed
Walk unsustained like the gods; then Night and Dawn were defeated
And of their masks the deities robbed would be slaves to their subjects.
Children of Immortality, gods who are joyous for ever,
Rapture is ours and eternity measures our lives by his aeons.
For we desireless toil who have joy in the fall as the triumph,
Knowledge eternal possessing we work for an end that is destined
Long already beyond by the Will of which Time is the courser.
Therefore death cannot alter our lives nor pain our enjoyment.
But in the world of mortals twilight is lord of its creatures.
Nothing they perfectly see, but all things seek and imagine,
Out of the clod who have come and would climb from their mire to our heavens.
Yet are the heavenly seats not easy even for the chosen:
Rough and remote is that path; that ascent is too hard for the death-bound.
Hard are Gods terms and few can meet them of men who are mortal.
Mind resists; their breath is a clog; by their tools they are hampered,
Blindly mistaking the throb of their mortal desires for our guidance.
How shall they win in their earth to our skies who are clay and a life-wind,
But that their hearts we invade? Our shocks on their lives come incessant,
Ease discourage and penetrate coarseness; sternness celestial
Forces their souls towards the skies and their bodies by anguish are sifted.
We in the mortal wake an immortal strength by our tortures
And by the flame of our lightnings choose out the vessels of godhead.
This is the nature of earth that to blows she responds and by scourgings
Travails excited; pain is the bed of her blossoms of pleasure.
Earth that was wakened by pain to life and by hunger to thinking
Left to her joys rests inert and content with her gains and her station.
But for the unbearable whips of the gods back soon to her matter
She would go glad and the goal would be missed and the aeons be wasted.
But for the god in their breasts unsatisfied, but for his spurrings
Soon would the hero turn beast and the sage reel back to the savage;
Man from his difficult heights would recoil and be mud in the earth-mud.
This by pain we prevent; we compel his feet to the journey.
But in their minds to impression made subject, by forms of things captured
Blind is the thought and presumptuous the hope and they swerve from our goading;
Blinded are human hearts by desire and fear and possession,
Darkened is knowledge on earth by hope the helper of mortals.
Now too from earth and her children voices of anger and weeping
Beat at our thrones; tis the grief and the wrath of fate-stricken creatures,
Mortals struggling with destiny, hearts that are slaves to their sorrow.
We unmoved by the cry will fulfil our unvarying purpose.
Troy shall fall at last and the ancient ages shall perish.
You who are lovers of Ilion turn from the moans of her people,
Chase from your hearts their prayers, blow back from your nostrils the incense.
Let not one nation resist by its glory the good of the ages.
Twilight thickens over man and he moves to his winter of darkness.
Troy that displaced with her force and her arms the luminous ancients,
Sinks in her turn by the ruder strength of the half-savage Achaians.
They to the Hellene shall yield and the Hellene fall by the Roman.
Rome too shall not endure, but by strengths ill-shaped shall be broken,
Nations formed in the ice and mist, confused and crude-hearted.
So shall the darker and ruder always prevail oer the brilliant
Till in its turn to a ruder and darker it falls and is shattered.
So shall mankind make speed to destroy what twas mighty creating.
Ever since knowledge failed and the ancient ecstasy slackened,
Light has been helper to death and darkness increases the victor.
So shall it last till the fallen ages return to their greatness.
For if the twilight be helped not, night oer the world cannot darken;
Night forbidden how shall a greater dawn be effected?
Gods of the light who know and resist that the doomed may have succour,
Always then shall desire and passion strive with Ananke?
Conquer the cry of your heart-strings that man too may conquer his sorrow,
Stilled in his yearnings. Cease, O ye gods, from the joy of rebellion.
Open the eye of the soul, admit the voice of the Silence.
So in the courts of Heaven august the Thunderer puissant
Spoke to his sons in their souls and they heard him, mighty in silence.
Then to her brother divine the white-armed passionless Hera:
Zeus, we remember; thy sons forget, Apollo and Ares.
Hera, queen of the heavens, they forget not, but choose to be mindless.
This is the greatness of gods that they know and can put back the knowledge;
Doing the work they have chosen they turn not for fruit nor for failure,
Griefless they walk to their goal and strain not their eyes towards the ending.
Light that they have they can lose with a smile, not as souls in the darkness
Clutch at every beam and mistake their one ray for all splendour.
All things are by Time and the Will eternal that moves us,
And for each birth its hour is set in the night or the dawning.
There is an hour for knowledge, an hour to forget and to labour.
Great Cronion ceased and high in the heavenly silence
Rose in their midst the voice of the loud impetuous Ares
Sounding far in the luminous fields of his soul as with thunder.
Father, we know and we have not forgotten. This is our godhead,
Still to strive and never to yield to the evil that conquers.
I will not dwell with the Greeks nor aid them save forced by Ananke
And because lives of the great and the blood of the strong are my portion.
This too thou knowest, our nature enjoys in mankind its fulfilment.
War is my nature and greatness and hardness, the necks of the vanquished;
Force is my soul and strength is my bosom; I shout in the battle
Breaking cities like toys and the nations are playthings of Ares:
Hither and thither I shove them and throw down or range on my table.
Constancy most I love, nobility, virtue and courage;
Fugitive hearts I abhor and the nature fickle as sea-foam.
Now if the ancient spirit of Titan battle is over,
Tros fights no more on the earth, nor now Heracles tramples and struggles,
Bane of the hydra or slaying the Centaurs oer Pelion driven,
Now if the earth no more must be shaken by Titan horsehooves,
Since to a pettier framework all things are fitted consenting,
Yet will I dwell not in Greece nor favour the nurslings of Pallas.
I will await the sons of my loins and the teats of the she-wolf,
Consuls browed like the cliffs and plebeians stern of the wolf-brood,
Senates of kings and armies of granite that grow by disaster;
Such be the nation august that is fit for the favour of Ares!
They shall fulfil me and honour my mother, imperial Hera.
Then with an iron march they shall move to their world-wide dominion,
Through the long centuries rule and at last because earth is impatient,
Slowly with haughtiness perish compelled by mortalitys transience
Leaving a Roman memory stamped on the ages of weakness.
But to his son far-sounding the Father high of the Immortals:
So let it be since such is the will in thee, mightiest Ares;
Thou shalt till sunset prevail, O war-god, fighting for Troya.
So he decreed and the soul of the Warrior sternly consented.
He from his seats arose and down on the summits of Ida
Flaming through Space in his cloud in a headlong glory descended,
Prone like a thunderbolt flaming down from the hand of the Father.
Thence in his chariot drawn by living fire and by swiftness,
Thundered down to earths plains the mighty impetuous Ares.
Far where Deiphobus stern was labouring stark and outnumbered
Smiting the Achaian myriads back on the right of the carnage,
Over the hosts in his car he stood and darkened the Argives.
But in the courts divine the Thunderer spoke to his children:
Ares resisting a present Fate for the hope of the future,
Gods, has gone forth from us. Choose thou thy paths, O my daughter,
More than thy brother assailed by the night that darkens oer creatures.
Choose the silence in heaven or choose the struggle mid mortals,
Golden joy of the worlds, O thou roseate white Aphrodite.
Then with her starry eyes and bosom of bliss from the immortals
Glowing and rosy-limbed cried the wonderful white Aphrodite,
Drawing her fingers like flowers through the flowing gold of her tresses,
Calm, discontented, her perfect mouth like a rose of resistance
Chidingly budded gainst Fate, a charm to their senses enamoured.
Well do I know thou hast given my world to Hera and Pallas.
What though my temples shall stand in Paphos and island Cythera
And though the Greek be a priest for my thoughts and a lyre for my singing,
Beauty pursuing and light through the figures of grace and of rhythm,
Forms shall he mould for mens eyes that the earth has forgotten and mourns for,
Mould even the workings of Pallas to commune with Paphias sweetness,
Mould Hephaestus craft in the gaze of the gold Aphrodite,
Only my form he pursues that I wear for a mortal enchantment,
He to whom now thou givest the world, the Ionian, the Hellene,
But for my might is unfit which Babylon worshipped and Sidon
Palely received from the past in images faint of the gladness
Once that was known by the children of men when the thrill of their members
Was but the immortal joy of the spirit overflowing their bodies,
Wine-cups of Gods desire; but their clay from my natural greatness
Falters betrayed to pain, their delight they have turned into ashes.
Nor to my peaks shall he rise and the perfect fruit of my promptings,
There where the senses swoon but the heart is delivered by rapture:
Never my touch can cling to his soul nor reply from his heart-strings.
Once could my godhead surprise all the stars with the seas of its rapture;
Once the world in its orbit danced to a marvellous rhythm.
Men in their limits, gods in their amplitudes answered my calling;
Life was moved by a chant of delight that sang from the spaces,
Sang from the Soul of the Vast, its rapture clasping its creatures.
Sweetly agreed my fire with their soil and their hearts were as altars.
Pure were its crests; twas not dulled with earth, twas not lost in the hazes
Then when the sons of earth and the daughters of heaven together
Met on lone mountain peaks or, linked on wild beach and green meadow,
Twining embraced. For I danced on Taygetus peaks and oer Ida
Naked and loosing my golden hair like a nimbus of glory
Oer a deep-ecstasied earth that was drunk with my roses and whiteness.
There was no shrinking nor veil in our old Saturnian kingdoms.
Equals were heaven and earth, twin gods on the lap of Dione.
Now shall my waning greatness perish and pass out of Nature.
For though the Romans, my children, shall grasp at the strength of their mother,
They shall not hold the god, but lose in unsatisfied orgies
Yet what the earth has kept of my joy, my glory, my puissance,
Who shall but drink for a troubled hour in the dusk of the sunset
Dregs of my wine Pandemian missing the Uranian sweetness.
So shall the night descend on the greatness and rapture of living;
Creeds that refuse shall persuade the world to revolt from its mother.
Pallas adorers shall loa the me and Heras scorn me for lowness;
Beauty shall pass from mens work and delight from their play and their labour;
Earth restored to the Cyclops shall shrink from the gold Aphrodite.
So shall I live diminished, owned but by beasts in the forest,
Birds of the air and the gods in their heavens, but disgraced in the mortal.
Then to the discontented rosy-mouthed Aphrodite
Zeus replied, the Father divine: O goddess Astarte,
What are these thoughts thou hast suffered to wing from thy rose-mouth immortal?
Bees that sting and delight are the words from thy lips, Cytherea.
Art thou not womb of the world and from thee are the thronging of creatures?
And didst thou cease the worlds too would cease and the aeons be ended.
Suffer my Greeks; accept who accept thee, O gold Dionaean.
They in the works of their craft and their dreams shall enthrone thee for ever,
Building thee temples in Paphos and Eryx and island Cythera,
Building the fane more enduring and bright of thy golden ideal.
Even if natures of men could renounce thee and God do without thee,
Rose of love and sea of delight, O my child Aphrodite,
Still wouldst thou live in the worship they gave thee protected from fading,
Splendidly statued and shrined in mens works and mens thoughts, Cytherea.
Pleased and blushing with bliss of her praise and the thought of her empire
Answered, as cries a harp in heaven, the gold Aphrodite:
Father, I know and I spoke but to hear from another my praises.
I am the womb of the world and the cause of this teeming of creatures,
And if discouraged I ceased, Gods world would lose heart and would perish.
How will you do then without me your works of wisdom and greatness,
Hera, queen of heaven, and thou, O my sister Athene?
Yes, I shall reign and endure though the pride of my workings be conquered.
What though no second Helen find a second Paris,
Lost though their glories of form to the earth, though their confident gladness
Pass from a race misled and forgetting the sap that it sprang from,
They are eternal in man in the worship of beauty and rapture.
Ever while earth is embraced by the sun and hot with his kisses
And while a Will supernal works through the passions of Nature,
Me shall men seek with my light or their darkness, sweetly or crudely,
Cold on the ice of the north or warm in the heats of the southland,
Slowly enduring my touch or with violence rapidly burning.
I am the sweetness of living, I am the touch of the Master.
Love shall die bound to my stake like a victim adorned as for bridal,
Life shall be bathed in my flames and be purified gold or be ashes.
I, Aphrodite, shall move the world for ever and ever.
Yet now since most to me, Father of all, the ages arriving,
Hostile, rebuke my heart and turn from my joy and my sweetness,
I will resist and not yield, nor care what I do, so I conquer.
Often I curbed my mood for your sakes and was gracious and kindly,
Often I lay at Heras feet and obeyed her commandments
Tranquil and proud or oercome by a honeyed and ancient compulsion
Fawned on thy pureness and served thy behests, O my sister Pallas.
Deep was the love that united us, happy the wrestle and clasping;
Love divided, Love united, Love was our mover.
But since you now overbear and would scourge me and chain and control me,
War I declare on you all, O my Father and brothers and sisters.
Henceforth I do my will as the joy in me prompts or the anger.
Ranging the earth with my beauty and passion and golden enjoyments
All whom I can, I will bind; I will drive at the bliss of my workings,
Whether mens hearts are seized by the joy or seized by the torture.
Most I will plague your men, your worshippers and in my malice
Break up your works with confusion divine, O my mother and sister;
Then shall you fume and resist and be helpless and pine with my torments.
Yet will I never relent but always be sweet and malignant,
Cruel and tyrannous, hurtful and subtle, a charm and a torture.
Thou too, O father Zeus, shalt always be vexed with my doings;
Called in each moment to judge thou shalt chafe at our cry and our quarrels,
Often grope for thy thunderbolt, often frown magisterial
Joining in vain thy awful brows oer thy turbulent children.
Yet in thy wrath recall my might and my wickedness, Father;
Hurt me not then too much lest the world and thyself too should suffer.
Save, O my Father, life and grace and the charm of the senses;
Love preserve lest the heart of the world grow dulled and forsaken.
Smiling her smile immortal of love and of mirth and of malice
White Aphrodite arose in her loveliness armed for the conflict.
Golden and careless and joyous she went like a wild bird that winging
Flits from bough to bough and resumes its chant interrupted.
Love where her white feet trod bloomed up like a flower from the spaces;
Mad round her touches billowed incessantly laughter and rapture.
Thrilled with her feet was the bosom of Space, for her amorous motion
Floated, a flower on the wave of her bliss or swayed like the lightning.
Rich as a summer fruit and fresh as Springs blossoms her body
Gleaming and blushing, veiled and bare and with ecstasy smiting
Burned out rosy and white through her happy ambrosial raiment,
Golden-tressed and a charm, her bosom a fragrance and peril.
So was she framed to the gaze as she came from the seats of the Mighty,
So embodied she visits the hearts of men and their dwellings
And in her breathing tenement laughs at the eyes that can see her.
Swift-footed down to the Troad she hastened thrilling the earth-gods.
There with ambrosial secrecy veiled, admiring the heroes
Strong and beautiful, might of the warring and glory of armour,
Over her son Aeneas she stood, his guard in the battle.
But in the courts divine the Thunderer spoke mid his children:
Thou for a day and a night and another day and a nightfall,
White Aphrodite, prevail; oer thee too the night is extended.
She has gone forth who made men like gods in their glory and gladness.
Now in the darkness coming all beauty must wane or be tarnished;
Joy shall fade and mighty Love grow fickle and fretful;
Even as a child that is scared in the night, he shall shake in his chambers.
Yet shall a portion be kept for these, Ares and white Aphrodite.
Thou whom already thy Pythoness bears not, torn by thy advent,
Caverned already who sittest in Delphi knowing thy future,
What wilt thou do with the veil and the night, O burning Apollo?
Then from the orb of his glory unbearable save to immortals
Bright and austere replied the beautiful mystic Apollo:
Zeus, I know that I fade; already the night is around me.
Dusk she extends her reign and obscures my lightnings with error.
Therefore my prophets mislead mens hearts to the ruin appointed,
Therefore Cassandra cries in vain to her sire and her brothers.
All I endure I foresee and the strength in me waits for its coming;
All I foresee I approve; for I know what is willed, O Cronion.
Yet is the fierce strength wroth in my breast at the need of approval
And for the human race fierce pity works in my bosom;
Wroth is my splendid heart with the cowering knowledge of mortals,
Wroth are my burning eyes with the purblind vision of reason.
I will go forth from your seats and descend to the night among mortals
There to guard the flame and the mystery; vast in my moments
Rare and sublime to sound like a sea against Time and its limits,
Cry like a spirit in pain in the hearts of the priest and the poet,
Cry against limits set and disorder sanities bounded.
Jealous for truth to the end my might shall prevail and for ever
Shatter the moulds that men make to imprison their limitless spirits.
Dire, overpowering the brain I shall speak out my oracles splendid.
Then in their ages of barren light or lucidity fruitful
Whenso the clear gods think they have conquered earth and its mortals,
Hidden God from all eyes, they shall wake from their dream and recoiling
Still they shall find in their paths the fallen and darkened Apollo.
So he spoke, repressing his dreadful might in his bosom,
And from their high seats passed, his soul august and resplendent
Drawn to the anguish of men and the fierce terrestrial labour.
Down he dropped with a roar of light invading the regions,
And in his fierce and burning spirit intense and uplifted
Sure of his luminous truth and careless for weakness of mortals
Flaming oppressed the earth with his dire intolerant beauty.
Over the summits descending that slept in the silence of heaven,
He through the spaces angrily drew towards the tramp and the shouting
Over the speeding of Xanthus and over the pastures of Troya.
Clang of his argent bow was the wrath restrained of the mighty,
Stern was his pace like Fates; so he came to the warfare of mortals
And behind Paris strong and inactive waited Gods moment
Knowing what should arrive, nor disturbed like men by their hopings.
But in the courts of Heaven Zeus to his brother immortal
Turned like a menaced king on his counsellor smiling augustly:
Seest thou, Poseidon, this sign that great gods revolting have left us,
Follow their hearts and strive with Ananke? Yet though they struggle,
Thou and I will do our will with the world, O earth-shaker.
Answered to Zeus the besieger of earth, the voice of the waters:
This is our strength and our right, for we are the kings and the masters.
Too much pity has been and yielding of Heaven to mortals.
I will go down with my chariot drawn by my thunder-maned coursers
Into the battle and thrust down Troy with my hand to the silence,
Even though she cling round the snowy knees of our child Aphrodite
Or with Apollos sun take refuge from Night and her shadows.
I will not pity her pain, who am ruthless even as my surges.
Brother, thou knowest, O Zeus, that I am a king and a trader;
For on my paths I receive earths skill and her merchandise gather,
Traffic richly in pearls and bear the swift ships on my bosom.
Blue are my waves and they call mens hearts to wealth and adventure.
Lured by the shifting surges they launch their delight and their treasures
Trusting the toil of years to the perilous moments of Ocean.
Huge mans soul in its petty frame goes wrestling with Nature
Over her vasts and his fragile ships between my horizons
Buffeting death in his solitudes labour through swell and through storm-blast
Bound for each land with her sons and watched for by eyes in each haven.
I from Tyre up to Gades trace on my billows their trade-routes
And on my vast and spuming Atlantic suffer their rudders.
Carthage and Greece are my children, the marts of the world are my term-posts.
Who then deserves the earth if not he who enriches and fosters?
But thou hast favoured thy sons, O Zeus; O Hera, earths sceptres
Still were denied me and kept for strong Ares and brilliant Apollo.
Now all your will shall be done, so you give me the earth for my nations.
Gold shall make men like gods and bind their thoughts into oneness;
Peace I will build with gold and heaven with the pearls of my caverns.
Smiling replied to his brothers craft the mighty Cronion:
Lord of the boundless seas, Poseidon, soul of the surges,
Well thou knowest that earth shall be seized as a booth for the trader.
Rome nor Greece nor France can drive back Carthage for ever.
Always each birth of the silence attaining the field and the movement
Takes from Time its reign; for it came for its throne and its godhead.
So too shall Mammon take and his sons their hour from the ages.
Yet is the flame and the dust last end of the silk and the iron,
And at their end the king and the prophet shall govern the nations.
Even as Troy, so shall Babylon flame up to heaven for the spoiler
Wailed by the merchant afar as he sees the red glow from the ocean.
Up from the seats of the Mighty the Earth-shaker rose. His raiment
Round him purple and dominant rippled and murmured and whispered,
Whispered of argosies sunk and the pearls and the Nereids playing,
Murmured of azure solitudes, sounded of storm and the death-wail.
Even as the march of his waters so was the pace of the sea-god
Flowing on endless through Time; with the glittering symbol of empire
Crowned were his fatal brows; in his grasp was the wrath of the trident,
Tripled force, life-shattering, brutal, imperial, sombre.
Resonant, surging, vast in the pomp of his clamorous greatness
Proud and victorious he came to his home in the far-spuming waters.
Even as a soul from the heights of thought plunges back into living,
So he plunged like a rock through the foam; for it falls from a mountain
Overpeering the waves in some silence of desolate waters
Left to the wind and the sea-gull where Ocean alone with the ages
Dreams of the calm of the skies or tosses its spray to the wind-gods,
Tosses for ever its foam in the solitude huge of its longings
Far from the homes and the noises of men. So the dark-browed Poseidon
Came to his coral halls and the sapphire stables of Nereus
Ever where champ their bits the harnessed steeds of the Ocean
Watched by foam-white girls in the caverns of still Amphitrite.
There was his chariot yoked by the Tritons, drawn by his coursers
Born of the fleeing sea-spray and shod with the northwind who journey
Black like the front of the storm and clothed with their manes as with thunder.
This now rose from its depths to the upper tumults of Ocean
Bearing the awful brows and the mighty form of the sea-god
And from the roar of the surges fast oer the giant margin
Came remembering the storm and the swiftness wide towards the Troad.
So among men he arrived to the clamorous labours of Ares,
Close by the stern Diomedes stood and frowned oer the battle.
He for the Trojan slaughter chose for his mace and his sword-edge
Iron Tydeus son and the adamant heart of young Pyrrhus.
But in the courts divine the Father high of the immortals
Turned in his heart to the brilliant offspring born of his musings,
She who tranquil observes and judges her father and all things.
What shall I say to the thought that is calm in thy breasts, O Athene?
Have I not given thee earth for thy portion, throned thee and armoured,
Darkened Cypris smile, dimmed Heras son and Latonas?
Swift in thy silent ambition, proud in thy radiant sternness,
Girl, thou shalt rule with the Greek and the Saxon, the Frank and the Roman.
Worker and fighter and builder and thinker, light of the reason,
Men shall leave all temples to crowd in thy courts, O Athene.
Go then and do my will, prepare mans tribes for their fullness.
But with her high clear smile on him answered the mighty Athene,
Wisely and soberly, tenderly smiled she chiding her father
Even as a mother might rail at her child when he hides and dissembles:
Zeus, I see and I am not deceived by thy words in my spirit.
We but build forms for thy thought while thou smilest down high oer our toiling;
Even as men are we tools for thee, who are thy children and dear ones.
All this life is thy sport and thou workst like a boy at his engines
Making a toil of the game and a play of the serious labour.
Then to that play thou callest us wearing a sombre visage,
This consulting, that to our wills confiding, O Ruler;
Choosing thy helpers, hastened by those whom thou lurest to oppose thee
Guile thou usest with gods as with mortals, scheming, deceiving,
And at the wrath and the love thou hast prompted laughest in secret.
So we two who are sisters and enemies, lovers and rivals,
Fondled and baffled in turn obey thy will and thy cunning,
I, thy girl of war, and the rosy-white Aphrodite.
Always we served but thy pleasure since our immortal beginnings,
Always each other we helped by our play and our wrestlings and quarrels.
This too I know that I pass preparing the paths of Apollo
And at the end as his sister and slave and bride I must sojourn
Rapt to his courts of mystic light and unbearable brilliance.
Was I not ever condemned since my birth from the toil of thy musings
Seized like a lyre in my body to sob and to laugh out his music,
Shake as a leaf in his fierceness and leap as a flame in his splendours!
So must I dwell overpowered and so must I labour subjected
Robbed of my loneliness pure and coerced in my radiant freedom,
Now whose clearness and pride are the sovereign joy of thy creatures.
Such the reward that thou keepst for my labour obedient always.
Yet I work and I do thy will, for tis mine, O my father.
Proud of her ruthless lust of thought and action and battle,
Swift-footed rose the daughter of Zeus from her sessions immortal:
Breasts of the morning unveiled in a purity awful and candid,
Head of the mighty Dawn, the goddess Pallas Athene!
Strong and rapacious she swooped on the world as her prey and her booty
Down from the courts of the Mighty descending, darting on Ida.
Dire she descended, a god in her reason, a child in her longings,
Joy and woe to the world that is given to the whims of the child-god
Greedy for rule and play and the minds of men and their doings!
So with her aegis scattering light oer the heads of the nations
Shining-eyed in her boyish beauty severe and attractive
Came to the fields of the Troad, came to the fateful warfare,
Veiled, the goddess calm and pure in her luminous raiment
Zoned with beauty and strength. Rejoicing, spurring the fighters
Close oer Odysseus she stood and clear-eyed governed the battle.
Zeus to Hephaestus next, the Cyclopean toiler
Turned, Hephaestus the strong-souled, priest and king and a bond-slave,
Servant of men in their homes and their workshops, servant of Nature,
He who has built these worlds and kindles the fire for a mortal.
Thou, my son, art obedient always. Wisdom is with thee,
Therefore thou knowst and obeyest. Submission is wisdom and knowledge;
He who is blind revolts and he who is limited struggles:
Strife is not for the infinite; wisdom observes to accomplish.
Troy and her sons and her works are thy food today, O Hephaestus.
And to his father the Toiler answered, the silent Seer:
Yes, I obey thee, my Father, and That which than thou is more mighty;
Even as thou obeyest by rule, so I by my labour.
Now must I heap the furnace, now must I toil at the smithy,
I who have flamed on the altar of sacrifice helping the sages.
I am the Cyclops, the lamester, who once was pure and a high-priest.
Holy the pomp of my flames ascendant from pyre and from altar
Robed mens souls for their heavens and my smoke was a pillar to Nature.
Though I have burned in the sight of the sage and the heart of the hero,
Now is no nobler hymn for my ear than the clanging of metal,
Breath of human greed and the dolorous pant of the engines.
Still I repine not, but toil; for to toil I was yoked by my Maker.
I am your servant, O Gods, and his of whom you are servants.
But to the toiler Zeus replied, to the servant of creatures:
What is the thought thou hast uttered betrayed by thy speech, O Hephaestus?
True is it earth shall grow as a smithy, the smoke of the furnace
Fill mens eyes and their souls shall be stunned with the clang of the hammers;
Yet in the end there is rest on the peak of a labour accomplished.
Nor shall the might of the thinker be quelled by that iron oppression,
Nor shall the soul of the warrior despair in the darkness triumphant;
For when the night shall be deepest, dawn shall increase on the mountains
And in the heart of the worst the best shall be born by my wisdom.
Pallas thy sister shall guard mans knowledge fighting the earth-smoke.
Thou too art mighty to live through the clamour even as Apollo.
Work then, endure; expect from the Silence an end and thy wages.
So King Hephaestus arose and passed from the courts of his father;
Down upon earth he came with his lame omnipotent motion;
And with uneven steps absorbed and silent the Master
Worked employed mid the wheels of the cars as a smith in his smithy,
But it was death and bale that he forged, not the bronze and the iron.
Stark, like a fire obscured by its smoke, through the spear-casts he laboured
Helping Ajax war and the Theban and Phocian fighters.
Zeus to his grandiose helper next, who proved and unmoving,
Calm in her greatness waited the mighty comm and of her husband:
Hera, sister and spouse, what my will is thou knowest, O consort.
One are our blood and our hearts, nor the thought for the words of the speaker
Waits, but each other we know and ourselves and the Vast and the heavens,
Life and all between and all beyond and the ages.
That which Space not knows nor Time, we have known, O my sister.
Therefore our souls are one soul and our minds become mirrors of oneness.
Go then and do my will, O thou mighty one, burning down Troya.
Silent she rose from the seats of the Blissful, Hera majestic,
And with her flowing garment and mystical zone through the spaces
Haloed came like the moon on an evening of luminous silence
Down upon Ida descending, a snow-white swan on the greenness,
Down upon Ida the mystic haunted by footsteps immortal
Ever since out of the Ocean it rose and lived gazing towards heaven.
There on a peak of the mountains alone with the sea and the azure
Voiceless and mighty she paused like a thought on the summits of being
Clasped by all heaven; the winds at play in her gust-scattered raiment
Sported insulting her gracious strength with their turbulent sweetness,
Played with their mother and queen; but she stood absorbed and unheeding,
Mute, with her sandalled foot for a moment thrilling the grasses,
Dumbly adored by a soul in the mountains, a thought in the rivers,
Roared to loud by her lions. The voice of the cataracts falling
Entered her soul profound and it heard eternitys rumour.
Silent its gaze immense contained the wheeling of aeons.
Huge-winged through Time flew her thought and its grandiose vast revolutions
Turned and returned. So musing her timeless creative spirit,
Master of Time, its instrument, grieflessly hastening forward
Parted with greatnesses dead and summoned new strengths from their stables;
Maned they came to her call and filled with their pacings the future.
Calm, with the vision satisfied, thrilled by the grandeurs within her,
Down in a billow of whiteness and gold and delicate raiment
Gliding the daughter of Heaven came to the earth that received her
Glad of the tread divine and bright with her more than with sunbeams.
King Agamemnon she found and smiling on Spartas levies
Mixed unseen with the far-glinting spears of haughty Mycenae.
Then to the Mighty who tranquil abode and august in his regions
Zeus, while his gaze over many forms and high-seated godheads
Passed like a swift-fleeing eagle over the peaks and the glaciers
When to his eyrie he flies alone through the vastness and silence:
Artemis, child of my loins and you, O legioned immortals,
All you have heard. Descend, O ye gods, to your sovereign stations,
Labour rejoicing whose task is joy and your bliss is creation;
Shrink from no act that Necessity asks from your luminous natures.
Thee I have given no part in the years that come, O my daughter,
Huntress swift of the worlds who with purity all things pursuest.
Yet not less is thy portion intended than theirs who oerpass thee:
Helped are the souls that wait more than strengths soon fulfilled and exhausted.
Archeress, brilliance, wait thine hour from the speed of the ages.
So they departed, Artemis leading lightning-tasselled.
Ancient Themis remained and awful Dis and Ananke.
Then mid these last of the gods who shall stand when all others have perished,
Zeus to the Silence obscure under iron brows of that goddess,
Griefless, unveiled was her visage, dire and unmoved and eternal:
Thou and I, O Dis, remain and our sister Ananke.
That which the joyous hearts of our children, radiant heaven-moths
Flitting mid flowers of sense for the honey of thought have not captured,
That which Poseidon forgets mid the pomp and the roar of his waters,
We three keep in our hearts. By the Light that I watch for unsleeping,
By thy tremendous consent to the silence and darkness, O Hades,
By her delight renounced and the prayers and the worship of mortals
Making herself as an engine of God without bowels or vision,
Yet in that engine are only heart-beats, yet is her riddle
Only Love that is veiled and pity that suffers and slaughters,
We three are free from ourselves, O Dis, and free from each other.
Do then, O King of the Night, observe then with Time for thy servant
Not my behest, but What she and thou and I are for ever.
Mute the Darkness sat like a soul unmoved through the aeons,
Then came a voice from the silence of Dis, from the night there came wisdom.
Yes, I have chosen and that which I chose I endure, O Cronion,
Though to the courts of the gods I come as a threat and a shadow,
Even though none to their counsels call me, none to their pastime,
None companions me willingly; even thy daughter, my consort,
Trembling whom once from our sister Demeter I plucked like a blossom
Torn from Sicilian fields, while Fate reluctant, consenting,
Bowed her head, lives but by her gasps of the sun and the azure;
Stretched are her hands to the light and she seeks for the clasp of her mother.
I, I am Night and her reign and that of which Night is a symbol.
All to me comes, even thou shalt come to me, brilliant Cronion.
All here exists by me whom all walk fearing and shunning;
He who shuns not, He am I and thou and Ananke.
All things I take to my bosom that Life may be swift in her voyage;
For out of death is Life and not by birth and her motions
And behind Night is light and not in the sun and his splendours.
Troy to the Night I will gather a wreath for my shadows, O grower.
So in his arrogance dire the vast invincible Death-god
Triumphing passed out of heaven with Themis and silent Ananke.
Zeus alone in the spheres of his bliss, in his kingdoms of brilliance
Sat divine and alarmed; for even the gods in their heavens
Scarce shall live who have gazed on the unveiled face of Ananke,
Heard the accents dire of the Darkness that waits for the ages.
Awful and dull grew his eyes and mighty and still grew his members.
Back from his nature he drew to the passionless peaks of the spirit,
Throned where it dwells for ever uplifted and silent and changeless
Far beyond living and death, beyond Nature and ending of Nature.
There for a while he dwelt veiled, protected from Dis and his greatness;
Then to the works of the world he returned and the joy of his musings.
Life and the blaze of the mighty soul that he was of Gods making
Dawned again in the heavenly eyes and the majestied semblance.
Comforted heaven he beheld, to the green of the earth was attracted.
But through this Space unreal, but through these worlds that are shadows
Went the awful Three. None saw them pass, none felt them.
Only in the heavens was a tread as of death, in the air was a winter,
Earth oppressed moaned long like a woman striving with anguish.
Ida saw them not, but her grim lions cowered in their caverns,
Ceased for a while on her slopes the eternal laughter of fountains.
Over the ancient ramparts of Dardanus high-roofed city
Darkening her victor domes and her gardens of life and its sweetness
Silent they came. Unseen and unheard was the dreadful arrival.
Troy and her gods dreamed secure in the moment flattered by sunlight.
Dim to the citadel high they arrived and their silence invaded
Pallas marble shrine where stern and white in her beauty,
Armed on her pedestal, trampling the prostrate image of darkness
Mighty Athenes statue guarded imperial Troya.
Dim and vast they entered in. Then through all the great city
Huge a rushing sound was heard from her gardens and places
And in their musings her seers as they strove with night and with error
And in the fane of Apollo Laocoon torn by his visions
Heard aghast the voice of Troys deities fleeing from Troya,
Saw the flaming lords of her households drive in a death-rout
Forth from her ancient halls and their noble familiar sessions.
Ghosts of her splendid centuries wailed on the wings of the doom-blast.
Moaning the Dryads fled and her Naiads passed from Scamander
Leaving the world to deities dumb of the clod and the earth-smoke,
And from their tombs and their shrines the shadowy Ancestors faded.
Filled was the air with their troops and the sound of a vast lamentation.
Wailing they went, lamenting mortalitys ages of greatness,
Ruthless Anankes deeds and the mortal conquests of Hades.
Then in the fane Palladian the shuddering priests of Athene
Entered the darkened shrine and saw on the suffering marble
Shattered Athenes mighty statue prostrate as conquered,
But on its pedestal rose oer the unhurt image of darkness
Awful shapes, a Trinity dim and dire unto mortals.
Dumb they fell down on the earth and the life-breath was slain in their bosoms.
And in the noon there was night. And Apollo passed out of Troya.
***
~ Sri Aurobindo, 8 - The Book of the Gods
,#NFDB
2770 Integral Yoga
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91 Psychology
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39 Science
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487 Nolini Kanta Gupta
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37 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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9 Sri Ramana Maharshi
8 Norbert Wiener
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7 Lewis Carroll
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6 Thubten Chodron
6 Ibn Arabi
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6 Alice Bailey
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5 Mirabai
5 Mansur al-Hallaj
5 Bulleh Shah
4 William Blake
4 Solomon ibn Gabirol
4 Omar Khayyam
4 Lalla
3 Yeshe Tsogyal
3 Thomas Merton
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3 Saint John of the Cross
3 Saint Francis of Assisi
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3 Ken Wilber
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2 Surdas
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2 Jorge Luis Borges
2 Jean Gebser
2 Italo Calvino
2 H. P. Lovecraft
2 Guru Nanak
2 Genpo Roshi
2 Dadu Dayal
2 Boethius
2 Alexander Pope
518 Record of Yoga
155 Wordsworth - Poems
144 The Synthesis Of Yoga
122 Prayers And Meditations
121 Lovecraft - Poems
112 Agenda Vol 01
109 Whitman - Poems
104 On Thoughts And Aphorisms
99 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03
95 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 04
90 Shelley - Poems
82 Quran
82 Agenda Vol 08
79 Magick Without Tears
79 Agenda Vol 13
78 Questions And Answers 1957-1958
77 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01
74 Agenda Vol 10
69 Agenda Vol 09
68 Agenda Vol 03
66 The Golden Bough
65 Thus Spoke Zarathustra
64 Agenda Vol 06
63 Agenda Vol 12
63 Agenda Vol 04
61 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02
61 Agenda Vol 11
61 Agenda Vol 07
60 Yeats - Poems
59 Keats - Poems
59 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 05
58 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 07
58 Agenda Vol 02
57 Essays In Philosophy And Yoga
57 Browning - Poems
56 The Life Divine
55 The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna
55 Questions And Answers 1950-1951
53 Agenda Vol 05
48 Savitri
48 Questions And Answers 1956
47 Letters On Yoga IV
47 Letters On Yoga III
46 Liber ABA
46 Letters On Yoga II
43 Schiller - Poems
41 Questions And Answers 1953
38 Tagore - Poems
37 The Study and Practice of Yoga
37 Questions And Answers 1955
37 Mysterium Coniunctionis
33 Words Of Long Ago
33 The Divine Comedy
32 Questions And Answers 1954
32 Questions And Answers 1929-1931
31 Of The Nature Of Things
30 The Ladder of Divine Ascent
30 Evening Talks With Sri Aurobindo
30 Essays On The Gita
29 Rilke - Poems
29 Collected Poems
28 The Perennial Philosophy
28 Emerson - Poems
25 The Bible
24 The Practice of Psycho therapy
24 The Human Cycle
24 Letters On Yoga I
24 Labyrinths
24 Essays Divine And Human
23 On Education
22 The Future of Man
22 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 08
22 City of God
21 Vishnu Purana
21 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 01
20 Words Of The Mother II
19 Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness
19 Li Bai - Poems
19 Goethe - Poems
18 Poetics
18 Letters On Poetry And Art
18 Faust
17 The Way of Perfection
17 Poe - Poems
17 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 04
17 On the Way to Supermanhood
17 Let Me Explain
17 General Principles of Kabbalah
16 Rumi - Poems
15 The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
15 Isha Upanishad
15 Crowley - Poems
15 Bhakti-Yoga
14 Twelve Years With Sri Aurobindo
14 The Secret Of The Veda
14 The Phenomenon of Man
14 The Mother With Letters On The Mother
14 Some Answers From The Mother
14 Metamorphoses
14 Initiation Into Hermetics
14 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 06
14 Aion
13 The Confessions of Saint Augustine
13 Songs of Kabir
13 Anonymous - Poems
12 Twilight of the Idols
12 Theosophy
12 Talks
12 Raja-Yoga
12 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 03
12 Plotinus - Complete Works Vol 02
11 Vedic and Philological Studies
11 Preparing for the Miraculous
11 Liber Null
11 Hymn of the Universe
10 The Problems of Philosophy
10 The Interior Castle or The Mansions
10 Knowledge of the Higher Worlds
10 Borges - Poems
10 A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah
9 The Practice of Magical Evocation
9 The Integral Yoga
9 Dark Night of the Soul
9 5.1.01 - Ilion
8 Words Of The Mother III
8 The Hero with a Thousand Faces
8 The Blue Cliff Records
8 Song of Myself
8 Milarepa - Poems
8 Cybernetics
8 Amrita Gita
7 Walden
7 Maps of Meaning
7 Kena and Other Upanishads
7 Hymns to the Mystic Fire
7 Hafiz - Poems
7 Alice in Wonderland
6 The Secret Doctrine
6 The Alchemy of Happiness
6 Tara - The Feminine Divine
6 How to Free Your Mind - Tara the Liberator
6 A Treatise on Cosmic Fire
5 The Red Book Liber Novus
5 Patanjali Yoga Sutras
5 Arabi - Poems
4 The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
3 Words Of The Mother I
3 The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep
3 The Lotus Sutra
3 The Book of Certitude
3 Synergetics - Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking
3 Sex Ecology Spirituality
3 Ryokan - Poems
3 Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin
3 Agenda Vol 1
2 Writings In Bengali and Sanskrit
2 The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma
2 The Gateless Gate
2 The Ever-Present Origin
2 The Essentials of Education
2 The Castle of Crossed Destinies
2 Symposium
2 Selected Fictions
2 Naropa - Poems
2 God Exists
2 Advanced Dungeons and Dragons 2E
0 0.01 - Introduction, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
This AGENDA ... One day, another species among men will pore over this fabulous document as over the tumultuous drama that must have surrounded the birth of the first man among the hostile hordes of a great, delirious Paleozoic. A first man is the dangerous contradiction of a certain simian logic, a threat to the established order that so genteelly ran about amid the high, indefeasible ferns - and to begin with, it does not even know that it is a man. It wonders, indeed, what it is. Even to itself it is strange, distressing. It does not even know how to climb trees any longer in its usual way
- and it is terribly disturbing for all those who still climb trees in the old, millennial way. Perhaps it is even a heresy. Unless it is some cerebral disorder? A first man in his little clearing had to have a great deal of courage. Even this little clearing was no longer so sure. A first man is a perpetual question. What am I, then, in the midst of all that? And where is my law? What is the law? And what if there were no more laws? ... It is terrifying. Mathematics - out of order. Astronomy and biology, too, are beginning to respond to mysterious influences. A tiny point huddled in the center of the world's great clearing. But what is all this, what if I were 'mad'? And then, claws all around, a lot of claws against this uncommon creature. A first man ... is very much alone. He is quite unbearable for the pre-human 'reason.' And the surrounding tribes growled like red monkies in the twilight of Guiana.
One day, we were like this first man in the great, stridulant night of the Oyapock. Our heart was beating with the re discovery of a very ancient mystery - suddenly, it was absolutely new to be a man amidst the diorite cascades and the pretty red and black coral snakes slithering beneath the leaves. It was even more extraordinary to be a man than our old confirmed tribes, with their infallible equations and imprescriptible biologies, could ever have dreamed. It was an absolutely uncertain 'quantum' that delightfully eluded whatever one thought of it, including perhaps what even the scholars thought of it. It flowed otherwise, it felt otherwise. It lived in a kind of flawless continuity with the sap of the giant balata trees, the cry of the macaws and the scintillating water of a little fountain. It 'understood' in a very different way. To understand was to be in everything. Just a quiver, and one was in the skin of a little iguana in distress. The skin of the world was very vast.
To be a man after re discovering a million years was mysteriously like being something still other than man, a strange, unfinished possibility that could also be all kinds of other things. It was not in the dictionary, it was fluid and boundless - it had become a man through habit, but in truth, it was formidably virgin, as if all the old laws belonged to laggard barbarians. Then other moons began whirring through the skies to the cry of macaws at sunset, another rhythm was born that was strangely in tune with the rhythm of all, making one single flow of the world, and there we went, lightly, as if the body had never had any weight other than that of our human thought; and the stars were so near, even the giant airplanes roaring overhead seemed vain artifices beneath smiling galaxies. A man was the overwhelming Possible. He was even the great discoverer of the Possible.
Never had this precarious invention had any other aim through millions of species than to discover that which surpassed his own species, perhaps the means to change his species - a light and lawless species. After re discovering a million years in the great, rhythmic night, a man was still something to be invented. It was the invention of himself, where all was not yet said and done.
And then, and then ... a singular air, an incurable lightness, was beginning to fill his lungs. And what if we were a fable? And what are the means?
--
'Something else' is ominous, perilous, disrupting - it is quite unbearable for all those who resemble the old beast. The story of the Pondicherry 'Ashram' is the story of an old clan ferociously clinging to its 'spiritual' privileges, as others clung to the muscles that had made them kings among the great apes. It is armed with all the piousness and all the reasonableness that had made logical man so 'infallible' among his less cerebral brothers. The spiritual brain is probably the worst obstacle to the new species, as were the muscles of the old orangutan for this fragile stranger who no longer climbed so well in the trees and sat, pensive, at the center of a little, uncertain clearing.
There is nothing more pious than the old species. There is nothing more legal. Mother was searching for the path of the new species as much against all the virtues of the old as against all its vices or laws. For, in truth, 'Something Else' ... is something else.
--
She spoke to deaf ears. She was very alone in this 'ashram.' Little by little, the disciples fill up the place, then they say: it is ours. It is 'the Ashram.' We are 'the disciples.' In Pondicherry as in Rome as in Mecca. 'I do not want a religion! An end to religions!' She exclaimed. She struggled and fought in their midst - was She therefore to leave this Earth like one more saint or yogi, buried beneath haloes, the 'continuatrice' of a great spiritual lineage? She was seventy-six years old when we landed there, a knife in our belt and a ready curse on our lips.
She adored defiance and did not detest irreverence.
No, She was not the 'Mother of the Pondicherry Ashram.' Then who was She? ... We discovered
Her step by step, as one discovers a forest, or rather as one fights with it, machete in hand - and then it melts, one loves, so sublime does it become. Mother grew beneath our skin like an adventure of life and death. For seven years we fought with Her. It was fascinating, detestable, powerful and sweet; we felt like screaming and biting, fleeing and always coming back: 'Ah! You won't catch me! If you think I came here to worship you, you're wrong!' And She laughed. She always laughed.
We had our bellyful of adventure at last: if you go astray in the forest, you get delightfully lost yet still with the same old skin on your back, whereas here, there is nothing left to get lost in! It is no longer just a matter of getting lost - you have to CHANGE your skin. Or die. Yes, change species.
--
'spiritual life': it was all so comfortable, for we had a supreme 'symbol' of it right there. She let us do as we pleased, She even opened up all kinds of little heavens in us, along with a few hells, since they go together. She even opened the door in us to a certain 'liberation,' which in the end was as soporific as eternity - but there was nowhere to get out: it WAS eternity. We were trapped on all sides. There was nothing left but these 4m2 of skin, the last refuge, that which we wanted to flee by way of above or below, by way of Guiana or the Himalayas. She was waiting for us just there, at the end of our spiritual or not so spiritual pirouettes. Matter was her concern. It took us seven years to understand that She was beginning there, 'where the other yogas leave off,' as Sri Aurobindo had already said twenty-five years earlier. It was necessary to have covered all the paths of the Spirit and all those of Matter, or in any case a large number geographically, before discovering, or even simply understanding, that 'something else' was really Something Else. It was not an improved
Spirit nor even an improved Matter, but ... it could be called 'nothing,' so contrary was it to all we know. For the caterpillar, a butterfly is nothing, it is not even visible and has nothing in common with caterpillar heavens nor even caterpillar matter. So there we were, trapped in an impossible adventure. One does not return from there: one must cross the bridge to the other side. Then one day in that seventh year, while we still believed in liberations and the collected Upanishads, highlighted with a few glorious visions to relieve the commonplace (which remained appallingly commonplace), while we were still considering 'the Mother of the Ashram' rather like some spiritual super-director (endowed, albeit, with a disarming yet ever so provocative smile, as though
She were making fun of us, then loving us in secret), She told us, 'I have the feeling that ALL we have lived, ALL we have known, ALL we have done is a perfect illusion ... When I had the spiritual experience that material life is an illusion, personally I found that so marvelously beautiful and happy that it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, but now it is the entire spiritual structure as we have lived it that is becoming an illusion! - Not the same illusion, but an illusion far worse. And I am no baby: I have been here for forty-seven years now!' Yes, She was eighty-three years old then. And that day, we ceased being 'the enemy of our own conception of the Divine,' for this entire Divine was shattered to pieces - and we met Mother, at last. This mystery we call
--
TRULY to the conquest of the new. The 'new' is painful, discouraging, it resembles nothing we know! We cannot hoist the flag of an unconquered country - but this is what is so marvelous: it does not yet exist. We must MAKE IT EXIST. The adventure has not been carved out: it is to be carved out. Truth is not entrapped and fossilized, 'spiritualized': it is to be discovered. We are in a nothing that we must force to become a something. We are in the adventure of the new species. A new species is obviously contradictory to the old species and to the little flags of the alreadyknown. It has nothing in common with the spiritual summits of the old world, nor even with its abysms - which might be delightfully tempting for those who have had enough of the summits, but everything is the same, in black or white, it is fraternal above and below. SOMETHING ELSE is needed.
'Are you conscious of your ceils?' She asked us a short time after the little operation of spiritual demolition She had undergone. 'No? Well, become conscious of your cells, and you will see that it gives TERRESTRIAL results.' To become conscious of one's cells? ... It was a far more radical operation than crossing the Maroni with a machete in hand, for after all, trees and lianas can be cut, but what cannot be so easily uncovered are the grandfa ther and the grandmo ther and the whole atavistic pack, not to mention the animal and plant and mineral layers that form a teeming humus over this single pure little cell beneath its millennial genetic program. The grandfa thers and grandmo thers grow back again like crabgrass, along with all the old habits of being hungry, afraid, falling ill, fearing the worst, hoping for the best, which is still the best of an old mortal habit. All this is not uprooted nor entrapped as easily as celestial 'liberations,' which leave the teeming humus in peace and the body to its usual decomposition. She had come to hew a path through all that. She was the Ancient One of evolution who had come to make a new cleft in the old, tedious habit of being a man. She did not like tedious repetitions, She was the adventuress par excellence - the adventuress of the earth. She was wrenching out for man the great Possible that was already beating there, in his primeval clearing, which he believed he had momentarily trapped with a few machines.
She was uprooting a new Matter, free, free from the habit of inexorably being a man who repeats himself ad infinitum with a few improvements in the way of organ transplants or monetary exchanges. In fact, She was there to discover what would happen after materialism and after spiritualism, these prodigal twin brothers. Because Materialism is dying in the West for the same reason that Spiritualism is dying in the East: it is the hour of the new species. Man needs to awaken, not only from his demons but also from his gods. A new Matter, yes, like a new Spirit, yes, because we still know neither one nor the other. It is the hour when Science, like Spirituality, at the end of their roads, must discover what Matter TRULY is, for it is really there that a Spirit as yet unknown to us is to be found. It is a time when all the 'isms' of the old species are dying: 'The age of
Capitalism and business is drawing to its close. But the age of Communism too will pass ... 'It is the hour of a pure little cell THAT WILL HAVE TERRESTRIAL REPERCUSSIONS, infinitely more radical than all our political and scientific or spiritualistic panaceas.
This fabulous discovery is the whole story of the AGENDA. What is the passage? How is the path to the new species hewed open? ... Then suddenly, there, on the other side of this old millennial habit - a habit, nothing more than a habit! - of being like a man endowed with time and space and disease: an entire geometry, perfectly implacable and 'scientific' and medical; on the other side ... none of that at all! An illusion, a fantastic medical and scientific and genetic illusion:
death does not exist, time does not exist, disease does not exist, nor do 'scar' and 'far' - another way of being IN A BODY. For so many millions of years we have lived in a habit and put our own thoughts of the world and of Matter into equations. No more laws! Matter is FREE. It can create a little lizard, a chipmunk or a parrot - but it has created enough parrots. Now it is SOMETHING
ELSE ... if we want it.
--
Day after day, for seventeen years, She sat with us to tell us of her impossible odyssey. Ah, how well we now understand why She needed such an 'outlaw' and an incorrigible heretic like us to comprehend a little bit of her impossible odyssey into 'nothing.' And how well we now understand her infinite patience with us, despite all our revolts, which ultimately were only the revolts of the old species against itself. The final revolt. 'It is not a revolt against the British government which any one can easily do. It is, in fact, a revolt against the whole universal Nature!' Sri Aurobindo had proclaimed fifty years earlier. She listened to our grievances, we went away and we returned. We wanted no more of it and we wanted still more. It was infernal and sublime, impossible and the sole possibility in this old, asphyxiating world. It was the only place one could go to in this barbedwired, mechanized world, where Cincinnati is just as crowded and polluted as Hong Kong. The new species is the last free place in the general Prison. It is the last hope for the earth. How we listened to her little faltering voice that seemed to return from afar, afar, after having crossed spaces and seas of the mind to let its little drops of pure, crystalline words fall upon us, words that make you see. We listened to the future, we touched the other thing. It was incomprehensible and yet filled with another comprehension. It eluded us on all sides, and yet it was dazzlingly obvious. The 'other species' was really radically other, and yet it was vibrating within, absolutely recognizable, as if it were THAT we had been seeking from age to age, THAT we had been invoking through all our illuminations, one after another, in Thebes as in Eleusis as everywhere we have toiled and grieved in the skin of a man. It was for THAT we were here, for that supreme Possible in the skin of a man at last. And then her voice grew more and more frail, her breath began gasping as though She had to traverse greater and greater distances to meet us. She was so alone to beat against the walls of the old prison. Many claws were out all around. Oh, we would so quickly have cut ourself free from all this fiasco to fly away with Her into the world's future. She was so tiny, stooped over, as if crushed beneath the 'spiritual' burden that all the old surrounding species kept heaping upon her. They didn't believe, no. For them, She was ninety-five years old + so many days. Can someone become a new species all alone? They even grumbled at Her: they had had enough of this unbearable Ray that was bringing their sordid affairs into the daylight. The Ashram was slowly closing over Her. The old world wanted to make a new, golden little Church, nice and quiet. No, no one wanted TO
BECOME. To worship was so much easier. And then they bury you, solemnly, and the matter is settled - the case is closed: now, no one need bother any more except to print some photographic haloes for the pilgrims to this brisk little business. But they are mistaken. The real business will take place without them, the new species will fly up in their faces - it is already flying in the face of the earth, despite all its isms in black and white; it is exploding through all the pores of this battered old earth, which has had enough of shams - whether illusory little heavens or barbarous little machines.
00.01 - The Approach to Mysticism, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Mysticism is not only a science but also, and in a greater degree, an art. To approach it merely as a science, as the modern mind attempts to do, is to move towards futility, if not to land in positive disaster. Sufficient stress is not laid on this aspect of the matter, although the very crux of the situation lies here. The mystic domain has to be apprehended not merely by the true mind and understanding but by the right temperament and character. Mysticism is not merely an object of knowledge, a problem for inquiry and solution, it is an end, an ideal that has to be achieved, a life that has to be lived. The mystics themselves have declared long ago with no uncertain or faltering voice: this cannot be attained by intelligence or much learning, it can be seized only by a purified and clear temperament.
The warning seems to have fallen, in the modern age, on unheeding ears. For the modern mind, being pre-eminently and uncompromisingly scientific, can entertain no doubt as to the perfect competency of science and the scientific method to seize and unveil any secret of Nature. If, it is argued, mysticism is a secret, if there is at all a truth and reality in it, then it is and must be amenable to the rules and regulations of science; for science is the revealer of Nature's secrecies.
But what is not recognised in this view of things is that there are secrecies and secrecies. The material secrecies of Nature are of one category, the mystic secrecies are of another. The two are not only disparate but incommensurable. Any man with a mind and understanding of average culture can see and handle the 'scientific' forces, but not the mystic forces.
A scientist once thought that he had clinched the issue and cut the Gordian knot when he declared triumphantly with reference to spirit sances: "Very significant is the fact that spirits appear only in closed chambers, in half obscurity, to somnolent minds; they are nowhere in the open air, in broad daylight to the wide awake and vigilant intellect!" Well, if the fact is as it is stated, what does it prove? Night alone reveals the stars, during the day they vanish, but that is no proof that stars are not existent. Rather the true scientific spirit should seek to know why (or how) it is so, if it is so, and such a fact would exactly serve as a pointer, a significant starting ground. The attitude of the jesting Pilate is not helpful even to scientific inquiry. This matter of the Spirits we have taken only as an illustration and it must not be understood that this is a domain of high mysticism; rather the contrary. The spiritualists' approach to Mysticism is not the right one and is fraught with not only errors but dangers. For the spiritualists approach their subject with the entire scientific apparatus the only difference being that the scientist does not believe while the spiritualist believes.
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The mystic forces are not only of immense potency but of a definite moral disposition and character, that is to say, they are of immense potency either for good or for evil. They are not mechanical and amoral forces like those that physical sciences deal with; they are forces of consciousness and they are conscious forces, they act with an aim and a purpose. The mystic forces are forces either of light or of darkness, either Divine or Titanic. And it is most often the powers of darkness that the naturally ignorant consciousness of man contacts when it seeks to cross the borderline without training or guidance, by the sheer arrogant self-sufficiency of mental scientific reason.
Ignorance, certainly, is not man's ideal conditionit leads to death and dissolution. But knowledge also can be equally disastrous if it is not of the right kind. The knowledge that is born of spiritual disobedience, inspired by the Dark ones, leads to the soul's fall and its calvary through pain and suffering on earth. The seeker of true enlightenment has got to make a distinction, learn to separate the true and the right from the false and the wrong, unmask the luring Mra say clearly and unfalteringly to the dark light of Luciferapage Satana, if he is to come out into the true light and comm and the right forces. The search for knowledge alone, knowledge for the sake of knowledge, the path of pure scientific inquiry and inquisitiveness, in relation to the mystic world, is a dangerous thing. For such a spirit serves only to encourage and enhance man's arrogance and in the end not only limits but warps and falsifies the knowledge itself. A knowledge based on and secured exclusively through the reason and mental light can go only so far as that faculty can be reasonably stretched and not infinitelyto stretch it to infinity means to snap it. This is the warning that Yajnavalkya gave to Gargi when the latter started renewing her question ad infinitum Yajnavalkya said, "If you do not stop, your head will fall off."
The mystic truth has to be approached through the heart. "In the heart is established the Truth," says the Upanishad: it is there that is seated eternally the soul, the real being, who appears no bigger than the thumb. Even if the mind is utilised as an instrument of knowledge, the heart must be there behind as the guide and inspiration. It is precisely because, as I have just mentioned, Gargi sought to shoot uplike "vaulting ambition that o'erleaps itself" of which Shakespeare speaksthrough the mind alone to the highest truth that Yajnavalkya had to pull her up and give the warning that she risked losing her head if she persisted in her questioning endlessly.
00.01 - The Mother on Savitri, #Sweet Mother - Harmonies of Light, #unset, #Zen
My child, yes, everything is there: mysticism, occultism, philosophy, the history of evolution, the history of man, of the gods, of creation, of Nature. How the universe was created, why, for what purpose, what destiny - all is there. You can find all the answers to all your questions there. Everything is explained, even the future of man and of the evolution, all that nobody yet knows. He has described it all in beautiful and clear words so that spiritual adventurers who wish to solve the mysteries of the world may understand it more easily. But this mystery is well hidden behind the words and lines and one must rise to the required level of true consciousness to discover it. All prophesies, all that is going to come is presented with the precise and wonderful clarity. Sri Aurobindo gives you here the key to find the Truth, to discover the Consciousness, to solve the problem of what the universe is. He has also indicated how to open the door of the Inconscience so that the light may penetrate there and transform it. He has shown the path, the way to liberate oneself from the ignorance and climb up to the superconscience; each stage, each plane of consciousness, how they can be scaled, how one can cross even the barrier of death and attain immortality. You will find the whole journey in detail, and as you go forward you can discover things altogether unknown to man. That is Savitri and much more yet. It is a real experience - reading Savitri. All the secrets that man possessed, He has revealed, - as well as all that awaits him in the future; all this is found in the depth of Savitri. But one must have the knowledge to discover it all, the experience of the planes of consciousness, the experience of the Supermind, even the experience of the conquest of Death. He has noted all the stages, marked each step in order to advance integrally in the integral Yoga.
All this is His own experience, and what is most surprising is that it is my own experience also. It is my sadhana which He has worked out. Each object, each event, each realisation, all the descriptions, even the colours are exactly what I saw and the words, phrases are also exactly what I heard. And all this before having read the book. I read Savitri many times afterwards, but earlier, when He was writing He used to read it to me. Every morning I used to hear Him read Savitri. During the night He would write and in the morning read it to me. And I observed something curious, that day after day the experiences He read out to me in the morning were those I had had the previous night, word by word. Yes, all the descriptions, the colours, the pictures I had seen, the words I had heard, all, all, I heard it all, put by Him into poetry, into miraculous poetry. Yes, they were exactly my experiences of the previous night which He read out to me the following morning. And it was not just one day by chance, but for days and days together. And every time I used to compare what He said with my previous experiences and they were always the same. I repeat, it was not that I had told Him my experiences and that He had noted them down afterwards, no, He knew already what I had seen. It is my experiences He has presented at length and they were His experiences also. It is, moreover, the picture of Our joint adventure into the unknown or rather into the Supermind.
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And men have the audacity to compare it with the work of Virgil or Homer and to find it inferior. They do not understand, they cannot understand. What do they know? Nothing at all. And it is useless to try to make them understand. Men will know what it is, but in a distant future. It is only the new race with a new consciousness which will be able to understand. I assure you there is nothing under the blue sky to compare with Savitri. It is the mystery of mysteries. It is a *super-epic,* it is super-literature, super-poetry, super-vision, it is a super-work even if one considers the number of lines He has written. No, these human words are not adequate to describe Savitri. Yes, one needs superlatives, hyperboles to describe it. It is a hyper-epic. No, words express nothing of what Savitri is, at least I do not find them. It is of immense value - spiritual value and all other values; it is eternal in its subject, and infinite in its appeal, miraculous in its mode and power of execution; it is a unique thing, the more you come into contact with it, the higher will you be uplifted. Ah, truly it is something! It is the most beautiful thing He has left for man, the highest possible. What is it? When will man know it? When is he going to lead a life of truth? When is he going to accept this in his life? This yet remains to be seen.
My child, every day you are going to read Savitri; read properly, with the right attitude, concentrating a little before opening the pages and trying to keep the mind as empty as possible, absolutely without a thought. The direct road is through the heart. I tell you, if you try to really concentrate with this aspiration you can light the flame, the psychic flame, the flame of purification in a very short time, perhaps in a few days. What you cannot do normally, you can do with the help of Savitri. Try and you will see how very different it is, how new, if you read with this attitude, with this something at the back of your consciousness; as though it were an offering to Sri Aurobindo. You know it is charged, fully charged with consciousness; as if Savitri were a being, a real guide. I tell you, whoever, wanting to practice Yoga, tries sincerely and feels the necessity for it, will be able to climb with the help of Savitri to the highest rung of the ladder of Yoga, will be able to find the secret that Savitri represents. And this without the help of a Guru. And he will be able to practice it anywhere. For him Savitri alone will be the guide, for all that he needs he will find Savitri. If he remains very quiet when before a difficulty, or when he does not know where to turn to go forward and how to overcome obstacles, for all these hesitations and incertitudes which overwhelm us at every moment, he will have the necessary indications, and the necessary concrete help. If he remains very calm, open, if he aspires sincerely, always he will be as if lead by the hand. If he has faith, the will to give himself and essential sincerity he will reach the final goal.
00.02 - Mystic Symbolism, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
We can make a distinction here between two types of expression which we have put together in discriminately, figures and symbols. Figures, we may say, are those that are constructed by the rational mind, the intellect; they are mere metaphors and similes and are not organically related to the thing experienced, but put round it as a robe that can be dropped or changed without affecting the experience itself. Thus, for example, when the Upanishad says, tmnam rathinam viddhi (Know that the soul is the master of the chariot who sits within it) or indriyi haynhu (The senses, they say, are the horses), we have here only a comparison or analogy that is common and natural to the poetic manner. The particular figure or simile used is not inevitable to the idea or experience that it seeks to express, its part and parcel. On the other hand, take this Upanishadic perception: hirayamayena patrea satyasyphitam mukham (The face of the Truth lies hidden under the golden orb). Here the symbol is not mere analogy or comparison, a figure; it is one with the very substance of the experience the two cannot be separated. Or when the Vedas speak of the kindling of the Fire, the rushing of the waters or the rise of the Dawn, the images though taken from the material world, are not used for the sake of mere comparison, but they are the embodiments, the living forms of truths experienced in another world.
When a Mystic refers to the Solar Light or to the Fire the light, for example, that struck down Saul and transformed him into Saint Paul or the burning bush that visited Moses, it is not the physical or material object that he means and yet it is that in a way. It is the materialization of something that is fundamentally not material: some movement in an inner consciousness precipitates itself into the region of the senses and takes from out of the material the form commensurable with its nature that it finds there.
0 0.02 - Topographical Note, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
French disciples, on the second floor of the main Ashram building, on some pretext of work or other. She listened to our queries, spoke to us at length of yoga, occultism, her past experiences in
Algeria and in France or of her current experiences; and gradually, She opened the mind of the rebellious and materialistic Westerner that we were and made us understand the laws of the worlds, the play of forces, the working of past lives - especially this latter, which was an important factor in the difficulties with which we were struggling at that time and which periodically made us abscond.
Mother would be seated in this rather medieval-looking chair with its high, carved back, her feet on a little tabouret, while we sat on the floor, on a slightly faded carpet, conquered and seduced, revolted and never satisfied - but nevertheless, very interested. Treasures, never noted down, were lost until, with the cunning of the Sioux, we succeeded in making Mother consent to the presence of a tape recorder. But even then, and for a long time thereafter, She carefully made us erase or delete in our notes all that concerned Her rather too personally - sometimes we disobeyed Her.
But finally we were able to convince Her of the value inherent in keeping a chronicle of the route.
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From 1960, the Agenda took its final shape arid grew for thirteen years, until May 1973, filling thirteen volumes in all (some six thousand pages), with a change of setting in March 1962 at the time of the Great Turning in Mother's yoga when She permanently retired to her room upstairs, as had Sri Aurobindo in 1926. The interviews then took place high up in this large room carpeted in golden wool, like a ship's stateroom, amidst the rustling of the Copper Pod tree and the cawing of crows. Mother would sit in a low rosewood chair, her face turned towards Sri Aurobindo's tomb, as though She were wearing down the distance separating that world from our own. Her voice had become like that of a child, one could hear her laughter. She always laughed, this Mother. And then her long silences. Until the day the disciples closed her door on us. It was May 19, 1973. We did not want to believe it. She was alone, just as we were suddenly alone. Slowly, painfully, we had to discover the why of this rupture. We understood nothing of the jealousies of the old species, we did not yet realize that they were becoming the 'owners' of Mother - of the Ashram, of Auroville, of
Sri Aurobindo, of everything - and that the new world was going to be denatured into a new
0 0.03 - 1951-1957. Notes and Fragments, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The lack of the earth's receptivity and the behavior of Sri Aurobindo's disciples 1 are largely responsible for what happened to his body. But one thing is certain: the great misfortune that has just beset us in no way affects the truth of his teaching. All he said is perfectly true and remains so.
Time and the course of events will make this abundantly clear.
00.03 - Upanishadic Symbolism, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Now, before any explanation is attempted it is important to bear in mind that the Upanishads speak of things experiencednot merely thought, reasoned or argued and that these experiences belong to a world and consciousness other than that of the mind and the senses. One should naturally expect here a different language and mode of expression than that which is appropriate to mental and physical things. For example, the world of dreams was once supposed to be a sheer chaos, a mass of meaningless confusion; but now it is held to be quite otherwise. Psychological scientists have discovered a methodeven a very well-defined and strict methodin the madness of that domain. It is an ordered, organised, significant world; but its terminology has to be understood, its code deciphered. It is not a jargon, but a foreign language that must be learnt and mastered.
In the same way, the world of spiritual experiences is also something methodical, well-organized, significant. It may not be and is not the rational world of the mind and the sense; but it need not, for that reason, be devoid of meaning, mere fancifulness or a child's imagination running riot. Here also the right key has to be found, the grammar and vocabulary of that language mastered. And as the best way to have complete mastery of a language is to live among the people who speak it, so, in the matter of spiritual language, the best and the only way to learn it is to go and live in its native country.
Now, as regards the interpretation of the story cited, should not a suspicion arise naturally at the very outset that the dog of the story is not a dog but represents something else? First, a significant epithet is given to itwhite; secondly, although it asks for food, it says that Om is its food and Om is its drink. In the Vedas we have some references to dogs. Yama has twin dogs that "guard the path and have powerful vision." They are his messengers, "they move widely and delight in power and possess the vast strength." The Vedic Rishis pray to them for Power and Bliss and for the vision of the Sun1. There is also the Hound of Heaven, Sarama, who comes down and discovers the luminous cows stolen and hidden by the Panis in their dark caves; she is the path-finder for Indra, the deliverer.
My suggestion is that the dog is a symbol of the keen sight of Intuition, the unfailing perception of direct knowledge. With this clue the Upanishadic story becomes quite sensible and clear and not mere abracadabra. To the aspirant for Knowledge came first a purified power of direct understanding, an Intuition of fundamental value, and this brought others of the same species in its train. They were all linked together organically that is the significance of the circle, and formed a rhythmic utterance and expression of the supreme truth (Om). It is also to be noted that they came and met at dawn to chant, the Truth. Dawn is the opening and awakening of the consciousness to truths that come from above and beyond.
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The Sun is the first and the most immediate source of light that man has and needs. He is the presiding deity of our waking consciousness and has his seat in the eyecakusa ditya, ditya caku bhtvakii prviat. The eye is the representative of the senses; it is the sense par excellence. In truth, sense-perception is the initial light with which we have to guide us, it is the light with which we start on the way. A developed stage comes when the Sun sets for us, that is to say, when we retire from the senses and rise into the mind, whose divinity is the Moon. It is the mental knowledge, the light of reason and intelligence, of reflection and imagination that govern our consciousness. We have to proceed farther and get beyond the mind, exceed the derivative light of the Moon. So when the Moon sets, the Fire is kindled. It is the light of the ardent and aspiring heart, the glow of an inner urge, the instincts and inspirations of our secret life-will. Here we come into touch with a source of knowledge and realization, a guidance more direct than the mind and much deeper than the sense-perception. Still this light partakes more of heat than of pure luminosity; it is, one may say, incandescent feeling, but not vision. We must probe deeper, mount higherreach heights and profundities that are serene and transparent. The Fire is to be quieted and silenced, says the Upanishad. Then we come nearer, to the immediate vicinity of the Truth: an inner hearing opens, the direct voice of Truth the Wordreaches us to lead and guide. Even so, however, we have not come to the end of our journey; the Word of revelation is not the ultimate Light. The Word too is clothing, though a luminous clothinghiramayam ptram When this last veil dissolves and disappears, when utter silence, absolute calm and quietude reign in the entire consciousness, when no other lights trouble or distract our attention, there appears the Atman in its own body; we stand face to face with the source of all lights, the self of the Light, the light of the Self. We are that Light and we become that Light.
II. The Four Oblations
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Ritualistically these four terms are the formulae for oblation to four Deities, Powers or Presences, whom the sacrificer wishes to please and propitiate in order to have their help and blessing and in order thereby to discharge his dharma or duty of life. Svh is the offering especially dedicated to Agni, the foremost of the Gods, for he is the divine messenger who carries men's offering to the Gods and brings their blessing to men. Vaatkr is the offering to the Gods generally. Hantakr is the offering to mankind, to our kin, an especial form of it being the worship of the guests,sarvadevamayo' tithi. Svadh is the offering to the departed Fathers (Pitris).
The duty of life consists, it is said, in the repaying of three debts which every man contracts as soon as he takes birth upon earth the debt to the Gods, to Men and to the Ancestors. This threefold debt or duty has, in other terms, reference to the three fields or domains wherein an embodied being lives and moves and to which he must adjust and react rightly -if he is to secure for his life an integral fulfilment. These are the family, society and the world and beyond-world. The Gods are the Powers that rule the world and beyond, they are the forms and forces of the One Spirit underlying the universe, the varied expressions of divine Truth and Reality: To worship the Gods, to do one's duty by them, means to come into contact and to be unitedin being, consciousness and activitywith the universal and spiritual existence, which is the supreme end and purpose of human life. The seconda more circumscribed fiel dis the society to which one belongs, the particular group of humanity in which he functions as a limb. The service to society or good citizenship entails the worship of humanity, of Man as a god. Lastly, man belongs to the family, which is the unit of society; and the backbone of the family is the continuous line of ancestors, who are its presiding deity and represent the norm of a living dharma, the ethic of an ideal life.
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The one, however, is not completely divorced from the other. The apparent, the inferior nature is only a preparation for the real, the superior nature. The Path of the Fathers concerns itself with man as a mental being and seeks so to ordain and accomplish its duties and ideals as to lead him on to the Path of the Gods; the mind, the life, and the body consciousness should be so disciplined, educated, purified, they should develop along such a line and gradually rise to such a stage as to make them fit to receive the light which belongs to the higher level, so allowing the human soul imbedded in them to extricate itself and pass on to the Immortal Life.
And they who are thus lifted up into the Higher Orbit are freed from the bondage to the cycle of rebirth. They enjoy the supreme Liberation that is of the Spirit; and even when they descend into the Inferior Path, it is to work out as free agents, as vehicles of the Divine, a special purpose, to bring down something of the substance and nature of the Solar reality into the lower world, enlighten and elevate the lower, as far as it is allowed, into the higher.
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The three fires are named elsewhere Garhapatya, Dakshina, and Ahavaniya.9 They are the three tongues of the one central Agni, that dwells secreted in the hearth of the soul. They manifest as aspirations that flame up from the three fundamental levels of our being, the body, the life and the mind. For although the spiritual consciousness is the natural element of the soul and is gained in and through the soul, yet, in order that man may take possession of it and dwell in it consciously, in order that the soul's empire may be established, the external being too must respond to the soul's impact and yearn for its truth in the Spirit. The mind, the life and the body which are usually obstructions in the path, must discover the secret flame that is in them tooeach has his own portion of the Soul's Fireand mount on its ardent tongue towards the heights of the Spirit.
Garhapatya is the Fire in the body-consciousness, the fire of Earth, as it is sometimes called; Dakshina is the Fire of the moon or mind, and Ahavaniya that of life.10 The earthly fire is also the fire of the sun; the sun is the source of all earth's heat and symbolises at the same time the spiritual light manifested in the physical consciousness. The lunar fire is also the fire of the stars, the stars, mythologically, being the consorts or powers of the moon and they symbolise, in Yogic experience, the intuitive thoughts. The fire of the life-force has its symbol in lightning, electric energy being its vehicle.
Agni in the physical consciousness is calledghapati, for the body is the house in which the soul is lodged and he is its keeper, guardian and lord. The fire in the mental consciousness is called daki; for it is that which gives discernment, the power to discriminate between the truth and the falsehood, it is that which by the pressure of its heat and light cleaves the wrong away from the right. And the fire in the life-force is called havanya; for pra is not only the plane of hunger and desire, but also of power and dynamism, it is that which calls forth forces, brings them into' play and it is that which is to be invoked for the progression of the Sacrifice, for an onward march on the spiritual path.
Of the three fires one is the upholderhe who gives the firm foundation, the stable house where the Sacrifice is performed and Truth realised; the second is the Knower, often called in the Veda jtaved, who guides and directs; and the third the Doer, the effective Power, the driving Energyvaivnara.
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Some Western and Westernised scholars have tried to show that the phenomenon described here is an exclusively natural phenomenon, actually visible in the polar region where the sun never sets for six months and moves in a circle whose plane is parallel to the plane of the horizon on the summer solstice and is gradually inclined as the sun regresses towards the equinox (on which day just half the solar disc is visible above the horizon). The sun may be said there to move in the direction East-South-West-North and again East. Indeed the Upanishad mentions the positions of the sun in that order and gives a character to each successive station. The Ray from the East is red, symbolising the Rik, the Southern Ray is white, symbolising the Yajur, the Western Ray is black symbolising the Atharva. The natural phenomenon, however, might have been or might not have been before the mind's eye of the Rishi, but the symbolism, the esotericism of it is clear enough in the way the Rishi speaks of it. Also, apart from the first four movements (which it is already sufficiently difficult to identify completely with what is visible), the fifth movement, as a separate descending movement from above appears to be a foreign element in the context. And although, with regard to the sixth movement or status, the sun is visible as such exactly from the point of the North Pole for a while, the ring of the Rishi's utterance is unmistakably spiritual, it cannot but refer to a fact of inner consciousness that is at least what the physical fact conveys to the Rishi and what he seeks to convey and express primarily.
Now this is what is sought to be conveyed and expressed. The five movements of the sun here also are nothing but the five smas and they refer to the cycle of the Cosmic or Universal Brahman. The sixth status where all movements cease, where there is no rising and setting, no ebb and flow, no waxing and waning, where there is the immutable, the ever-same unity, is very evidently the Transcendental Brahman. It is That to which the Vedic Rishi refers when he prays for a constant and fixed vision of the eternal Sunjyok ca sryam drie.
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The first boon regards the individual, that is to say, the individual identity and integrity. It asks for the maintenance of that individuality so that it may be saved from the dissolution that Death brings about. Death, of course, means the dissolution of the body, but it represents also dissolution pure and simple. Indeed death is a process which does not stop with the physical phenomenon, but continues even after; for with the body gone, the other elements of the individual organism, the vital and the mental too gradually fall off, fade and dissolve. Nachiketas wishes to secure from Death the safety and preservation of the earthly personality, the particular organisation of mind and vital based upon a recognisable physical frame. That is the first necessity for the aspiring mortalfor, it is said, the body is the first instrument for the working out of one's life ideal. But man's true personality, the real individuality lies beyond, beyond the body, beyond the life, beyond the mind, beyond the triple region that Death lords it over. That is the divine world, the Heaven of the immortals, beyond death and beyond sorrow and grief. It is the hearth secreted in the inner heart where burns the Divine Fire, the God of Life Everlasting. And this is the nodus that binds together the threefold status of the manifested existence, the body, the life and the mind. This triplicity is the structure of name and form built out of the bricks of experience, the kiln, as it were, within which burns the Divine Agni, man's true soul. This soul can be reached only when one exceeds the bounds and limitations of the triple cord and experiences one's communion and identity with all souls and all existence. Agni is the secret divinity within, within the individual and within the world; he is the Immanent Divine, the cosmic godhead that holds together and marshals all the elements and components, all the principles that make up the manifest universe. He it is that has entered into the world and created facets of his own reality in multiple forms: and it is he that lies secret in the human being as the immortal soul through all its adventure of life and death in the series of incarnations in terrestrial evolution. The adoration and realisation of this Immanent Divinity, the worship of Agni taught by Yama in the second boon, consists in the triple sacrifice, the triple work, the triple union in the triple status of the physical, the vital and the mental consciousness, the mastery of which leads one to the other shore, the abode of perennial existence where the human soul enjoys its eternity and unending continuity in cosmic life. Therefore, Agni, the master of the psychic being, is called jtaveds, he who knows the births, all the transmigrations from life to life.
The third boon is the secret of secrets, for it is the knowledge and realisation of Transcendence that is sought here. Beyond the individual lies the universal; is there anything beyond the universal? The release of the individual into the cosmic existence gives him the griefless life eternal: can the cosmos be rolled up and flung into something beyond? What would be the nature of that thing? What is there outside creation, outside manifestation, outside Maya, to use a latter day term? Is there existence or non-existence (utter dissolution or extinctionDeath in his supreme and absolute status)? King Yama did not choose to answer immediately and even endeavoured to dissuade Nachiketas from pursuing the question over which people were confounded, as he said. Evidently it was a much discussed problem in those days. Buddha was asked the same question and he evaded it, saying that the pragmatic man should attend to practical and immediate realities and not, waste time and energy in discussing things ultimate and beyond that have hardly any relation to the present and the actual.
But Yama did answer and unveil the mystery and impart the supreme secret knowledge the knowledge of the Transcendent Brahman: it is out of the transcendent reality that the immanent deity takes his birth. Hence the Divine Fire, the Lord of creation and the Inner Mastersarvabhtntartm, antarymis called brahmajam, born of the Brahman. Yama teaches the process of transcendence. Apart from the knowledge and experience first of the individual and then of the cosmic Brahman, there is a definite line along which the human consciousness (or unconsciousness, as it is at present) is to ascend and evolve. The first step is to learn to distinguish between the Good and the Pleasurable (reya and preya). The line of pleasure leads to the external, the superficial, the false: while the other path leads towards the inner and the higher truth. So the second step is the gradual withdrawal of the consciousness from the physical and the sensual and even the mental preoccupation and focussing it upon what is certain and permanent. In the midst of the death-ridden consciousness in the heart of all that is unstable and fleetingone has to look for Agni, the eternal godhead, the Immortal in mortality, the Timeless in time through whom lies the passage to Immortality beyond Time.
Man has two souls corresponding to his double status. In the inferior, the soul looks downward and is involved in the current of Impermanence and Ignorance, it tastes of grief and sorrow and suffers death and dissolution: in the higher it looks upward and communes and joins with the Eternal (the cosmic) and then with the Absolute (the transcendent). The lower is a reflection of the higher, the higher comes down in a diminished and hence tarnished light. The message is that of deliverance, the deliverance and reintegration of the lower soul out of its bondage of worldly ignorant life into the freedom and immortality first of its higher and then of its highest status. It is true, however, that the Upanishad does not make a trenchant distinction between the cosmic and the transcendent and often it speaks of both in the same breath, as it were. For in fact they are realities involved in each other and interwoven. Indeed the triple status, including the Individual, forms one single totality and the three do not exclude or cancel each other; on the contrary, they combine and may be said to enhance each other's reality. The Transcendence expresses or deploys itself in the cosmoshe goes abroad,sa paryagt: and the cosmic individualises, concretises itself in the particular and the personal. The one single spiritual reality holds itself, aspects itself in a threefold manner.
The teaching of Yama in brief may be said to be the gospel of immortality and it consists of the knowledge of triple immortality. And who else can be the best teacher of immortality than Death himself, as Nachiketas pointedly said? The first immortality is that of the physical existence and consciousness, the preservation of the personal identity, the individual name and formthis being in itself as expression and embodiment and instrument of the Inner Reality. This inner reality enshrines the second immortality the eternity and continuity of the soul's life through its incarnations in time, the divine Agni lit for ever and ever growing in flaming consciousness. And the third and final immortality is in the being and consciousness beyond time, beyond all relativities, the absolute and self-existent delight.
00.04 - The Beautiful in the Upanishads, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
And what else is the true character, the soul of beauty than light and delight? "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever." And a thing of joy is a thing of light. Joy is the radiance rippling over a thing of beauty. Beauty is always radiant: the charm, the loveliness of an object is but the glow of light that it emanates. And it would not be a very incorrect mensuration to measure the degree of beauty by the degree of light radiated. The diamond is not only a thing of value, but a thing of beauty also, because of the concentrated and undimmed light that it enshrines within itself. A dark, dull and dismal thing, devoid of interest and attraction becomes aesthetically precious and significant as soon as the artist presents it in terms of the values of light. The entire art of painting is nothing but the expression of beauty, in and through the modalities of light.
And where there is light, there is cheer and joy. Rasamaya and jyotirmayaare thus the two conjoint characteristics fundamental to the nature of the ultimate reality. Sometimes these two are named as the 'solar and the lunar aspect. The solar aspect refers obviously to the Light, that is to say, to the Truth; the lunar aspect refers to the rasa (Soma), to Immortality, to Beauty proper,
00.05 - A Vedic Conception of the Poet, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
'Kavi' is an invariable epithet of the gods. The Vedas mean by this attribute to bring out a most fundamental character, an inalienable dharma of the heavenly host. All the gods are poets; and a human being can become a poet only in so far as he attains to the nature and status of a god. Who is then a kavi? The Poet is he who by his poetic power raises forms of beauty in heavenkavi kavitv divi rpam sajat.1Thus the essence of poetic power is to fashion divine Beauty, to reveal heavenly forms. What is this Heaven whose forms the Poet discovers and embodies? HeavenDyaushas a very definite connotation in the Veda. It means the luminous or divine Mind 2the mind purified of its obscurity and limitations, due to subjection to the external senses, thus opening to the higher Light, receiving and recording faithfully the deeper and vaster movements and vibrations of the Truth, giving them a form, a perfect body of the right thought and the right word. Indra is the lord of this world and he can be approached only with an enkindled intelligence, ddhay man,3a faultless understanding, sumedh. He is the supreme Artisan of the poetic power,Tash, the maker of perfect forms, surpa ktnum.4 All the gods turn towards Indra and become gods and poets, attain their Great Names of Supreme Beauty.5 Indra is also the master of the senses, indriyas, who are his hosts. It is through this mind and the senses that the poetic creation has to be manifested. The mind spreads out wide the Poet's weaving;6 the poet is the priest who calls down and works out the right thinking in the sacrificial labour of creation.7 But that creation is made in and through the inner mind and the inner senses that are alive to the subtle formation of a vaster knowledge.8 The poet envisages the golden forms fashioned out of the very profundity of the consciousness.9 For the substance, the material on which the Poet works, is Truth. The seat of the Truth the poets guard, they uphold the supreme secret Names.10 The poet has the expressive utterance, the creative word; the poet is a poet by his poetic creation-the shape faultlessly wrought out that unveils and holds the Truth.11The form of beauty is the body of the Truth.
The poet is a trinity in himself. A triune consciousness forms his personality. First of all, he is the Knower-the Seer of the Truth, kavaya satyadrara. He has the direct vision, the luminous intelligence, the immediate perception.12 A subtle and profound and penetrating consciousness is his,nigam, pracetas; his is the eye of the Sun,srya caku.13 He secures an increased being through his effulgent understanding.14 In the second place, the Poet is not only Seer but Doer; he is knower as well as creator. He has a dynamic knowledge and his vision itself is power, ncak;15 he is the Seer-Will,kavikratu.16 He has the blazing radiance of the Sun and is supremely potent in his self-Iuminousness.17 The Sun is the light and the energy of the Truth. Even like the Sun the Poet gives birth to the Truth, srya satyasava, satyya satyaprasavya. But the Poet as Power is not only the revealer or creator,savit, he is also the builder or fashioner,ta, and he is the organiser,vedh is personality. First of all, he is the Knower-the Seer of the Truth, kavaya satyadrara, of the Truth.18 As Savita he manifests the Truth, as Tashta he gives a perfected body and form to the Truth, and as Vedha he maintains the Truth in its dynamic working. The effective marshalling and organisation of the Truth is what is called Ritam, the Right; it is also called Dharma,19 the Law or the Rhythm, the ordered movement and invincible execution of the Truth. The Poet pursues the Path of the Right;20 it is he who lays out the Path for the march of the Truth, the progress of the Sacrifice.21 He is like a fast steed well-yoked, pressing forward;22 he is the charger that moves straight and unswerving and carries us beyond 23into the world of felicity.
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The Poet creates forms of beauty in Heaven; but these forms are not made out of the void. It is the Earth that is raised to Heaven and transmuted into divine truth forms. The union of Earth and Heaven is the source of the Joy, the Ananda, that the Poet unseals and distributes. Heaven and Earth join and meet in the world of Delight; between them they press out Soma, the drink of the gods.
The Mind and the Body are held together by means of the Life, the mid-world. The Divine Mind by raising the body-consciousness into itself gathers up too, by that act, the delight of life and releases the fountain of immortal Bliss. That is the work and achievement of the gods as poets.
0.00a - Introduction, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
The age-old advice, "Know thyself," is more imperative than ever. The tempo of science has accelerated to such a degree that today's discoveries frequently make yesterday's equations obsolescent almost before they can be chalked up on a blackboard. Small wonder, then that every other hospital bed is occupied by a mental patient. Man was not constructed to spend his life at a crossroads, one of which leads he knows not where, and the other to threatened annihilation of his species.
In view of this situation it is doubly reassuring to know that, even in the midst of chaotic concepts and conditions there still remains a door through which man, individually, can enter into a vast store-house of knowledge, knowledge as dependable and immutable as the measured tread of Eternity.
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It serves yet another vital function. In addition to the advantages to be gained from its philosophical application, the ancients discovered a very practical use for the literal Qabalah.
Each letter of the Qabalistic alphabet has a number, color, many symbols and a Tarot card attributed to it. The Qabalah not only aids in an understanding of the Tarot, but teaches the student how to classify and organize all such ideas, numbers and symbols. Just as a knowledge of Latin will give insight into the meaning of an unfamiliar English word with a Latin root, so the knowledge of the Qabalah with the various attri butions to each character in its alphabet will enable the student to understand and correlate ideas and concepts which otherwise would have no apparent relation.
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I felt this a long time ago, as I still do, but even more so. The only way to explain the partisan Jewish attitude demonstrated in some small sections of the book can readily be explained. I had been reading some writings of Arthur Edward Waite, and some of his pomposity and turgidity stuck to my mantle. I disliked his patronising Christian attitude, and so swung all the way over to the other side of the pendulum. Actually, neither faith is particularly important in this day and age. I must be careful never to read Waite again before embarking upon literary work of my own.
Much knowledge obtained by the ancients through the use of the Qabalah has been supported by discoveries of modern scientists- anthropologists, astronomers, psychiatrists, et al. Learned Qabalists for hundreds of years have been aware of what the psychiatrist has only discovered in the last few decades-that man's concept of himself, his deities and the Universe is a constantly evolving process, changing as man himself evolves on a higher spiral. But the roots of his concepts are buried in a race-consciousness that antedated Neanderthal man by uncounted aeons of time.
What Jung calls archetypal images constantly rise to the surface of man's awareness from the vast unconscious that is the common heritage of all mankind.
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Prior to the closing down of the Mandrake Press in London about 1930-31, I was employed as company secretary for a while. Along with several Crowley books, the Mandrake Press published a lovely little monogram by D. H. Lawrence entitled "Apropos of Lady Chatterley's Lover." My own copy accompanied me on my travels for long years. Only recently did I discover that it had been lost. I hope that any one of my former patients who had borrowed it will see fit to return it to me forthwith.
The last chapter of A Garden deals with the Way of Return. It used almost entirely Crowley's concept of the Path as described in his superb essay "One Star in Sight." In addition to this, I borrowed extensively from Lawrence's Apropos. Somehow, they all fitted together very nicely. In time, all these variegated notes were incorporated into the text without acknowledgment, an oversight which I now feel sure would be forgiven, since I was only twenty-four at the time.
000 - Humans in Universe, #Synergetics - Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking, #R Buckminster Fuller, #Science
000.109 As a consequence of the discoveries of Malthus and Darwin all the great
political ideologies have since adopted a prime philosophy that says: "You may not
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life support, but since there are others who disagree diametrically about the best
method of coping, it can be determined only by force of arms which system is the
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electron was discovered. A century after the time of Malthus much of science
became invisible with the introduction of an era of electronics, electromagnetics,
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structural system (microcosm). Newton's discovery of mass interattraction showed
that the interattraction force of atoms, planets, stars, or galaxies increases
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Radiation is the outwardly disintegrating force acting divisively upon all systems.
000.114 All structural systems are comprised of tension and compression
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combined with the human discovery of the intertrussing principles of structuring
and the low overall displacement weights involved, made possible for humans to
design and fabricate air-enclosing wooden vessels whose structure and space
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structures-political, religious, or capitalist-would find their interests disastrouslythreatened by total human success. They are founded upon assumption of scarcity;
they are organized for and sustained by the problems imposed by the assumption of
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were given their minds with which to discover and employ the generalized laws
governing all physical and metaphysical, omniinteraccommodative, ceaseless
0.00 - INTRODUCTION, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
VAISHNAVA disCIPLINES
RAMLALA
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MONASTIC disCIPLES
LATU
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SRI RAMAKRISHNA, the God-man of modern India, was born at Kamarpukur. This village in the Hooghly district preserved during the last century the idyllic simplicity of the rural areas of Bengal. Situated far from the railway, it was untouched by the glamour of the city. It contained rice-fields, tall palms, royal banyans, a few lakes, and two cremation grounds. South of the village a stream took its leisurely course. A mango orchard dedicated by a neighbouring zemindar to the public use was frequented by the boys for their noonday sports. A highway passed through the village to the great temple of Jagannath at Puri, and the villagers, most of whom were farmers and craftsmen, entertained many passing holy men and pilgrims. The dull round of the rural life was broken by lively festivals, the observance of sacred days, religious singing, and other innocent pleasures.
About his parents Sri Ramakrishna once said: "My mother was the personification of rectitude and gentleness. She did not know much about the ways of the world; innocent of the art of concealment, she would say what was in her mind. People loved her for her open-heartedness. My father, an orthodox brahmin, never accepted gifts from the sudras. He spent much of his time in worship and meditation, and in repeating God's name and chanting His glories. Whenever in his daily prayers he invoked the Goddess Gayatri, his chest flushed and tears rolled down his cheeks. He spent his leisure hours making garlands for the Family Deity, Raghuvir."
Khudiram Chattopadhyaya and Chandra Devi, the parents of Sri Ramakrishna, were married in 1799. At that time Khudiram was living in his ancestral village of Dereypore, not far from Kamarpukur. Their first son, Ramkumar, was born in 1805, and their first daughter, Katyayani, in 1810. In 1814 Khudiram was ordered by his landlord to bear false witness in court against a neighbour. When he refused to do so, the landlord brought a false case against him and deprived him of his ancestral property. Thus dispossessed, he arrived, at the invitation of another landlord, in the quiet village of Kamarpukur, where he was given a dwelling and about an acre of fertile land. The crops from this little property were enough to meet his family's simple needs. Here he lived in simplicity, dignity, and contentment.
Ten years after his coming to Kamarpukur, Khudiram made a pilgrimage on foot to Rameswar, at the southern extremity of India. Two years later was born his second son, whom he named Rameswar. Again in 1835, at the age of sixty, he made a pilgrimage, this time to Gaya. Here, from ancient times, Hindus have come from the four corners of India to discharge their duties to their departed ancestors by offering them food and drink at the sacred footprint of the Lord Vishnu. At this holy place Khudiram had a dream in which the Lord Vishnu promised to he born as his son. And Chandra Devi, too, in front of the Siva temple at Kamarpukur, had a vision indicating the birth of a divine child. Upon his return the husband found that she had conceived.
It was on February 18, 1836, that the child, to be known afterwards as Ramakrishna, was born. In memory of the dream at Gaya he was given the name of Gadadhar, the "Bearer of the Mace", an epithet of Vishnu. Three years later a little sister was born.
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Gadadhar was seven years old when his father died. This incident profoundly affected him. For the first time the boy realized that life on earth was impermanent. Unobserved by others, he began to slip into the mango orchard or into one of the cremation grounds, and he spent hours absorbed in his own thoughts. He also became more helpful to his mother in the discharge of her household duties. He gave more attention to reading and hearing the religious stories recorded in the Puranas. And he became interested in the wandering monks and pious pilgrims who would stop at Kamarpukur on their way to Puri. These holy men, the custodians of India's spiritual heritage and the living witnesses of the ideal of renunciation of the world and all-absorbing love of God, entertained the little boy with stories from the Hindu epics, stories of saints and prophets, and also stories of their own adventures. He, on his part, fetched their water and fuel and
served them in various ways. Meanwhile, he was observing their meditation and worship.
At the age of nine Gadadhar was invested with the sacred thread. This ceremony conferred upon him the privileges of his brahmin lineage, including the worship of the Family Deity, Raghuvir, and imposed upon him the many strict disciplines of a brahmin's life. During the ceremony of investiture he shocked his relatives by accepting a meal cooked by his nurse, a sudra woman. His father would never have dreamt of doing such a thing But in a playful mood Gadadhar had once promised this woman that he would eat her food, and now he fulfilled his plighted word. The woman had piety and religious sincerity, and these were more important to the boy than the conventions of society.
Gadadhar was now permitted to worship Raghuvir. Thus began his first training in meditation. He so gave his heart and soul to the worship that the stone image very soon appeared to him as the living Lord of the Universe. His tendency to lose himself in contemplation was first noticed at this time. Behind his boyish light-heartedness was seen a deepening of his spiritual nature.
About this time, on the Sivaratri night, consecrated to the worship of Siva, a dramatic performance was arranged. The principal actor, who was to play the part of Siva, suddenly fell ill, and Gadadhar was persuaded to act in his place. While friends were dressing him for the role of Siva — smearing his body with ashes, matting his locks, placing a trident in his hand and a string of rudraksha beads around his neck — the boy appeared to become absent-minded. He approached the stage with slow and measured step, supported by his friends. He looked the living image of Siva. The audience loudly applauded what it took to be his skill as an actor, but it was soon discovered that he was really lost in meditation. His countenance was radiant and tears flowed from his eyes. He was lost to the outer world. The effect of this scene on the audience was tremendous. The people felt blessed as by a vision of Siva Himself. The performance had to be stopped, and the boy's mood lasted till the following morning.
Gadadhar himself now organized a dramatic company with his young friends. The stage was set in the mango orchard. The themes were selected from the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Gadadhar knew by heart almost all the roles, having heard them from professional actors. His favourite theme was the Vrindavan episode of Krishna's life, depicting those exquisite love-stories of Krishna and the milkmaids and the cowherd boys. Gadadhar would play the parts of Radha or Krishna and would often lose himself in the character he was portraying. His natural feminine grace heightened the dramatic effect. The mango orchard would ring with the loud kirtan of the boys. Lost in song and merry-making, Gadadhar became indifferent to the routine of school.
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The first effect of the draught on the educated Hindus was a complete effacement from their minds of the time-honoured beliefs and traditions of Hindu society. They came to believe that there was no transcendental Truth; The world perceived by the senses was all that existed. God and religion were illusions of the untutored mind. True knowledge could be derived only from the analysis of nature. So atheism and agnosticism became the fashion of the day. The youth of India, taught in English schools, took malicious delight in openly breaking the customs and traditions of their society. They would do away with the caste-system and remove the discriminatory laws about food. Social reform, the spread of secular education, widow remarriage, abolition of early marriage — they considered these the panacea for the degenerate condition of Hindu society.
The Christian missionaries gave the finishing touch to the process of transformation. They ridiculed as relics of a barbarous age the images and rituals of the Hindu religion. They tried to persuade India that the teachings of her saints and seers were the cause of her downfall, that her Vedas, Puranas, and other scriptures were filled with superstition. Christianity, they maintained, had given the white races position and power in this world and assurance of happiness in the next; therefore Christianity was the best of all religions. Many intelligent young Hindus became converted. The man in the street was confused. The majority of the educated grew materialistic in their mental outlook. Everyone living near Calcutta or the other strong-holds of Western culture, even those who attempted to cling to the orthodox traditions of Hindu society, became infected by the new uncertainties and the new beliefs.
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The main temple is dedicated to Kali, the Divine Mother, here worshipped as Bhavatarini, the Saviour of the Universe. The floor of this temple also is paved with marble. The basalt image of the Mother, dressed in gorgeous gold brocade, stands on a white marble image of the prostrate body of Her Divine Consort, Siva, the symbol of the Absolute. On the feet of the Goddess are, among other ornaments, anklets of gold. Her arms are decked with jewelled ornaments of gold. She wears necklaces of gold and pearls, a golden garland of human heads, and a girdle of human arms. She wears a golden crown, golden ear-rings, and a golden nose-ring with a pearl-drop. She has four arms. The lower left hand holds a severed human head and the upper grips a blood-stained sabre. One right hand offers boons to Her children; the other allays their fear. The majesty of Her posture can hardly be described. It combines the terror of destruction with the reassurance of motherly tenderness. For She is the Cosmic Power, the totality of the universe, a glorious harmony of the pairs of opposites. She deals out death, as She creates and preserves. She has three eyes, the third being the symbol of Divine Wisdom; they strike dismay into the wicked, yet pour out affection for Her devotees.
The whole symbolic world is represented in the temple garden — the Trinity of the Nature Mother (Kali), the Absolute (Siva), and Love (Radhakanta), the Arch spanning heaven and earth. The terrific Goddess of the Tantra, the soul-enthralling Flute-Player of the Bhagavata, and the Self-absorbed Absolute of the Vedas live together, creating the greatest synthesis of religions. All aspects of Reality are represented there. But of this divine household, Kali is the pivot, the sovereign Mistress. She is Prakriti, the Procreatrix, Nature, the Destroyer, the Creator. Nay, She is something greater and deeper still for those who have eyes to see. She is the Universal Mother, "my Mother" as Ramakrishna would say, the All-powerful, who reveals Herself to Her children under different aspects and Divine Incarnations, the Visible God, who leads the elect to the Invisible Reality; and if it so pleases Her, She takes away the last trace of ego from created beings and merges it in the consciousness of the Absolute, the undifferentiated God. Through Her grace "the finite ego loses itself in the illimitable Ego — Atman — Brahman". (Romain Holland, Prophets of the New India, p. 11.)
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Sri Ramakrishna — henceforth we shall call Gadadhar by this familiar name —1 came to the temple garden with his elder brother Ramkumar, who was appointed priest of the Kali temple. Sri Ramakrishna did not at first approve of Ramkumar's working for the sudra Rasmani. The example of their orthodox father was still fresh in Sri Ramakrishna's mind. He objected also to the eating of the cooked offerings of the temple, since, according to orthodox Hindu custom, such food can be offered to the Deity only in the house of a brahmin. But the holy atmosphere of the temple grounds, the solitude of the surrounding wood, the loving care of his brother, the respect shown him by Rani Rasmani and Mathur Babu, the living presence of the Goddess Kali in the temple, and; above all, the proximity of the sacred Ganges, which Sri Ramakrishna always held in the highest respect, gradually overcame his disapproval, and he began to feel at home.
Within a very short time Sri Ramakrishna attracted the notice of Mathur Babu, who was impressed by the young man's religious fervour and wanted him to participate in the worship in the Kali temple. But Sri Ramakrishna loved his freedom and was indifferent to any worldly career. The profession of the priesthood in a temple founded by a rich woman did not appeal to his mind. Further, he hesitated to take upon himself the responsibility for the ornaments and jewelry of the temple. Mathur had to wait for a suitable occasion.
At this time there came to Dakshineswar a youth of sixteen, destined to play an important role in Sri Ramakrishna's life. Hriday, a distant nephew2 of Sri Ramakrishna, hailed from Sihore, a village not far from Kamarpukur, and had been his boyhood friend. Clever, exceptionally energetic, and endowed with great presence of mind, he moved, as will be seen later, like a shadow about his uncle and was always ready to help him, even at the sacrifice of his personal comfort. He was destined to be a mute witness of many of the spiritual experiences of Sri Ramakrishna and the caretaker of his body during the stormy days of his spiritual practice. Hriday came to Dakshineswar in search of a job, and Sri Ramakrishna was glad to see him.
Unable to resist the persuasion of Mathur Babu, Sri Ramakrishna at last entered the temple service, on condition that Hriday should be asked to assist him. His first duty was to dress and decorate the image of Kali.
One day the priest of the Radhakanta temple accidentally dropped the image of Krishna on the floor, breaking one of its legs. The pundits advised the Rani to install a new image, since the worship of an image with a broken limb was against the scriptural injunctions. But the Rani was fond of the image, and she asked Sri Ramakrishna's opinion. In an abstracted mood, he said: "This solution is ridiculous. If a son-in-law of the Rani broke his leg, would she discard him and put another in his place? Wouldn't she rather arrange for his treatment? Why should she not do the same thing in this case too? Let the image be repaired and worshipped as before." It was a simple, straightforward solution and was accepted by the Rani. Sri Ramakrishna himself mended the break. The priest was dismissed for his carelessness, and at Mathur Babu's earnest request Sri Ramakrishna accepted the office of priest in the Radhakanta temple.
^No definite information is available as to the origin of this name. Most probably it was given by Mathur Babu, as Ramlal, Sri Ramakrishna's nephew, has said, quoting the authority of his uncle himself.
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Born in an orthodox brahmin family, Sri Ramakrishna knew the formalities of worship, its rites and rituals. The innumerable gods and goddesses of the Hindu religion are the human aspects of the indescribable and incomprehensible Spirit, as conceived by the finite human mind. They understand and appreciate human love and emotion, help men to realize their secular and spiritual ideals, and ultimately enable men to attain liberation from the miseries of phenomenal life. The Source of light, intelligence, wisdom, and strength is the One alone from whom comes the fulfilment of desire. Yet, as long as a man is bound by his human limitations, he cannot but worship God through human forms. He must use human symbols. Therefore Hinduism asks the devotees to look on God as the ideal father, the ideal mother, the ideal husband, the ideal son, or the ideal friend. But the name ultimately leads to the Nameless, the form to the Formless, the word to the Silence, the emotion to the serene realization of Peace in Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute. The gods gradually merge in the one God. But until that realization is achieved, the devotee cannot dissociate human factors from his worship. Therefore the Deity is bathed and clothed and decked with ornaments. He is fed and put to sleep. He is propitiated with hymns, songs, and prayers. And there are appropriate rites connected with all these functions. For instance, to secure for himself external purity, the priest bathes himself in holy water and puts on a holy cloth. He purifies the mind and the sense-organs by appropriate meditations. He fortifies the place of worship against evil forces by drawing around it circles of fire and water. He awakens the different spiritual centres of the body and invokes the Supreme Spirit in his heart. Then he transfers the Supreme Spirit to the image before him and worships the image, regarding it no longer as clay or stone, but as the embodiment of Spirit, throbbing with Life and Consciousness. After the worship the Supreme Spirit is recalled from the image to Its true sanctuary, the heart of the priest. The real devotee knows the absurdity of worshipping the Transcendental Reality with material articles — clothing That which pervades the whole universe and the beyond, putting on a pedestal That which cannot be limited by space, feeding That which is disembodied and incorporeal, singing before That whose glory the music of the spheres tries vainly to proclaim. But through these rites the devotee aspires to go ultimately beyond rites and rituals, forms and names, words and praise, and to realize God as the All-pervading Consciousness.
Hindu priests are thoroughly acquainted with the rites of worship, but few of them are aware of their underlying significance. They move their hands and limbs mechanically, in obedience to the letter of the scriptures, and repeat the holy mantras like parrots. But from the very beginning the inner meaning of these rites was revealed to Sri Ramakrishna. As he sat facing the image, a strange transformation came over his mind. While going through the prescribed ceremonies, he would actually find himself encircled by a wall of fire protecting him and the place of worship from unspiritual vibrations, or he would feel the rising of the mystic Kundalini through the different centres of the body. The glow on his face, his deep absorption, and the intense atmosphere of the temple impressed everyone who saw him worship the Deity.
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And, indeed, he soon discovered what a strange Goddess he had chosen to serve. He became gradually enmeshed in the web of Her all-pervading presence. To the ignorant She is, to be sure, the image of destruction; but he found in Her the benign, all-loving Mother. Her neck is encircled with a garland of heads, and Her waist with a girdle of human arms, and two of Her hands hold weapons of death, and Her eyes dart a glance of fire; but, strangely enough, Ramakrishna felt in Her breath the soothing touch of tender love and saw in Her the Seed of Immortality. She stands on the bosom of Her Consort, Siva; it is because She is the Sakti, the Power, inseparable from the Absolute. She is surrounded by jackals and other unholy creatures, the denizens of the cremation ground. But is not the Ultimate Reality above holiness and unholiness? She appears to be reeling under the spell of wine. But who would create this mad world unless under the influence of a divine drunkenness? She is the highest symbol of all the forces of nature, the synthesis of their antinomies, the Ultimate Divine in the form of woman. She now became to Sri Ramakrishna the only Reality, and the world became an unsubstantial shadow. Into Her worship he poured his soul. Before him She stood as the transparent portal to the shrine of Ineffable Reality.
The worship in the temple intensified Sri Ramakrishna's yearning for a living vision of the Mother of the Universe. He began to spend in meditation the time not actually employed in the temple service; and for this purpose he selected an extremely solitary place. A deep jungle, thick with underbrush and prickly plants, lay to the north of the temples. Used at one time as a burial ground, it was shunned by people even during the day-time for fear of ghosts. There Sri Ramakrishna began to spend the whole night in meditation, returning to his room only in the morning with eyes swollen as though from much weeping. While meditating, he would lay aside his cloth and his brahminical thread. Explaining this strange conduct, he once said to Hriday: "Don't you know that when one thinks of God one should be freed from all ties? From our very birth we have the eight fetters of hatred, shame, lineage, pride of good conduct, fear, secretiveness, caste, and grief. The sacred thread reminds me that I am a brahmin and therefore superior to all. When calling on the Mother one has to set aside all such ideas." Hriday thought his uncle was becoming insane.
--
Yet this was only a foretaste of the intense experiences to come. The first glimpse of the Divine Mother made him the more eager for Her uninterrupted vision. He wanted to see Her both in meditation and with eyes open. But the Mother began to play a teasing game of hide-and-seek with him, intensifying both his joy and his suffering. Weeping bitterly during the moments of separation from Her, he would pass into a trance and then find Her standing before him, smiling, talking, consoling, bidding him be of good cheer, and instructing him. During this period of spiritual practice he had many uncommon experiences. When he sat to meditate, he would hear strange clicking sounds in the joints of his legs, as if someone were locking them up, one after the other, to keep him motionless; and at the conclusion of his meditation he would again hear the same sounds, this time unlocking them and leaving him free to move about. He would see flashes like a swarm of fire-flies floating before his eyes, or a sea of deep mist around him, with luminous waves of molten silver. Again, from a sea of translucent mist he would behold the Mother rising, first Her feet, then Her waist, body, face, and head, finally Her whole person; he would feel Her breath and hear Her voice. Worshipping in the temple, sometimes he would become exalted, sometimes he would remain motionless as stone, sometimes he would almost collapse from excessive emotion. Many of his actions, contrary to all tradition, seemed sacrilegious to the people. He would take a flower and touch it to his own head, body, and feet, and then offer it to the Goddess. Or, like a drunkard, he would reel to the throne of the Mother, touch Her chin by way of showing his affection for Her, and sing, talk, joke, laugh, and dance. Or he would take a morsel of food from the plate and hold it to Her mouth, begging Her to eat it, and would not be satisfied till he was convinced that She had really eaten. After the Mother had been put to sleep at night, from his own room he would hear Her ascending to the upper storey of the temple with the light steps of a happy girl, Her anklets jingling. Then he would discover Her standing with flowing hair. Her black form silhouetted against the sky of the night, looking at the Ganges or at the distant lights of Calcutta.
Naturally the temple officials took him for an insane person. His worldly well-wishers brought him to skilled physicians; but no-medicine could cure his malady. Many a time he doubted his sanity himself. For he had been sailing across an uncharted sea, with no earthly guide to direct him. His only haven of security was the Divine Mother Herself. To Her he would pray: "I do not know what these things are. I am ignorant of mantras and the scriptures. Teach me, Mother, how to realize Thee. Who else can help me? Art Thou not my only refuge and guide?" And the sustaining presence of the Mother never failed him in his distress or doubt. Even those who criticized his conduct were greatly impressed with his purity, guilelessness, truthfulness, integrity, and holiness. They felt an uplifting influence in his presence.
It is said that samadhi, or trance, no more than opens the portal of the spiritual realm. Sri Ramakrishna felt an unquenchable desire to enjoy God in various ways. For his meditation he built a place in the northern wooded section of the temple garden. With Hriday's help he planted there five sacred trees. The spot, known as the Panchavati, became the scene of many of his visions.
--
About this time he began to worship God by assuming the attitude of a servant toward his master. He imitated the mood of Hanuman, the monkey chieftain of the Ramayana, the ideal servant of Rama and traditional model for this self-effacing form of devotion. When he meditated on Hanuman his movements and his way of life began to resemble those of a monkey. His eyes became restless. He lived on fruits and roots. With his cloth tied around his waist, a portion of it hanging in the form of a tail, he jumped from place to place instead of walking. And after a short while he was blessed with a vision of Sita, the divine consort of Rama, who entered his body and disappeared there with the words, "I bequeath to you my smile."
Mathur had faith in the sincerity of Sri Ramakrishna's spiritual zeal, but began now to doubt his sanity. He had watched him jumping about like a monkey. One day, when Rani Rasmani was listening to Sri Ramakrishna's singing in the temple, the young priest abruptly turned and slapped her. Apparently listening to his song, she had actually been thinking of a law-suit. She accepted the punishment as though the Divine Mother Herself had imposed it; but Mathur was distressed. He begged Sri Ramakrishna to keep his feelings under control and to heed the conventions of society. God Himself, he argued, follows laws. God never permitted, for instance, flowers of two colours to grow on the same stalk. The following day Sri Ramakrishna presented Mathur Babu with two hibiscus flowers growing on the same stalk, one red and one white.
Mathur and Rani Rasmani began to ascribe the mental ailment of Sri Ramakrishna in part, at least, to his observance of rigid continence. Thinking that a natural life would relax the tension of his nerves, they engineered a plan with two women of ill fame. But as soon as the women entered his room, Sri Ramakrishna beheld in them the manifestation of the Divine Mother of the Universe and went into samadhi uttering Her name.
--
In 1858 there came to Dakshineswar a cousin of Sri Ramakrishna, Haladhari by name, who was to remain there about eight years. On account of Sri Ramakrishna's indifferent health, Mathur appointed this man to the office of priest in the Kali temple. He was a complex character, versed in the letter of the scriptures, but hardly aware of their spirit. He loved to participate in hair-splitting theological discussions and, by the measure of his own erudition, he proceeded to gauge Sri Ramakrishna. An orthodox brahmin, he thoroughly disapproved of his cousin's unorthodox actions, but he was not unimpressed by Sri Ramakrishna's purity of life, ecstatic love of God, and yearning for realization.
One day Haladhari upset Sri Ramakrishna with the statement that God is incomprehensible to the human mind. Sri Ramakrishna has described the great moment of doubt when he wondered whether his visions had really misled him: "With sobs I prayed to the Mother, 'Canst Thou have the heart to deceive me like this because I am a fool?' A stream of tears flowed from my eyes. Shortly afterwards I saw a volume of mist rising from the floor and filling the space before me. In the midst of it there appeared a face with flowing beard, calm, highly expressive, and fair. Fixing its gaze steadily upon me, it said solemnly, 'Remain in bhavamukha, on the threshold of relative consciousness.' This it repeated three times and then it gently disappeared in the mist, which itself dissolved. This vision reassured me."
A garbled report of Sri Ramakrishna's failing health, indifference to worldly life, and various abnormal activities reached Kamarpukur and filled the heart of his poor mother with anguish. At her repeated request he returned to his village for a change of air. But his boyhood friends did not interest him any more. A divine fever was consuming him. He spent a great part of the day and night in one of the cremation grounds, in meditation. The place reminded him of the impermanence of the human body, of human hopes and achievements. It also reminded him of Kali, the Goddess of destruction.
--
Hardly had he crossed the threshold of the Kali temple when he found himself again in the whirlwind. His madness reappeared tenfold. The same meditation and prayer, the same ecstatic moods, the same burning sensation, the same weeping, the same sleeplessness, the same indifference to the body and the outside world, the same divine delirium. He subjected himself to fresh disciplines in order to eradicate greed and lust, the two great impediments to spiritual progress. With a rupee in one hand and some earth in the other, he would reflect on the comparative value of these two for the realization of God, and finding them equally worthless he would toss them, with equal indifference, into the Ganges. Women he regarded as the manifestations of the Divine Mother. Never even in a dream did he feel the impulses of lust. And to root out of his mind the idea of caste superiority, he cleaned a pariahs house with his long and neglected hair. When he would sit in meditation, birds would perch on his head and peck in his hair for grains of food. Snakes would crawl over his body, and neither would be aware of the other. Sleep left him altogether. Day and night, visions flitted before him. He saw the sannyasi who had previously killed the "sinner" in him again coming out of his body, threatening him with the trident, and ordering him to concentrate on God. Or the same sannyasi would visit distant places, following a luminous path, and bring him reports of what was happening there. Sri Ramakrishna used to say later that in the case of an advanced devotee the mind itself becomes the guru, living and moving like an embodied being.
Rani Rasmani, the foundress of the temple garden, passed away in 1861. After her death her son-in-law Mathur became the sole executor of the estate. He placed himself and his resources at the disposal of Sri Ramakrishna and began to look after his physical comfort. Sri Ramakrishna later spoke of him as one of his five "suppliers of stores" appointed by the Divine Mother. Whenever a desire arose in his mind, Mathur fulfilled it without hesitation.
--- THE BRAHMANI
--
When Sri Ramakrishna told Mathur what the Brahmani had said about him, Mathur shook his head in doubt. He was reluctant to accept him as an Incarnation of God, an Avatar comparable to Rama, Krishna, Buddha, and Chaitanya, though he admitted Sri Ramakrishna's extraordinary spirituality. Whereupon the Brahmani asked Mathur to arrange a conference of scholars who should discuss the matter with her. He agreed to the proposal and the meeting was arranged. It was to be held in the natmandir in front of the Kali temple.
Two famous pundits of the time were invited: Vaishnavcharan, the leader of the Vaishnava society, and Gauri. The first to arrive was Vaishnavcharan, with a distinguished company of scholars and devotees. The Brahmani, like a proud mother, proclaimed her view before him and supported it with quotations from the scriptures. As the pundits discussed the deep theological question, Sri Ramakrishna, perfectly indifferent to everything happening around him, sat in their midst like a child, immersed in his own thoughts, sometimes smiling, sometimes chewing a pinch of spices from a pouch, or again saying to Vaishnavcharan with a nudge: "Look here. Sometimes I feel like this, too." Presently Vaishnavcharan arose to declare himself in total agreement with the view of the Brahmani. He declared that Sri Ramakrishna had undoubtedly experienced mahabhava and that this was the certain sign of the rare manifestation of God in a man. The people assembled
there, especially the officers of the temple garden, were struck dumb. Sri Rama- krishna said to Mathur, like a boy: "Just fancy, he too says so! Well, I am glad to learn that after all it is not a disease."
When, a few days later, Pundit Gauri arrived, another meeting was held, and he agreed with the view of the Brahmani and Vaishnavcharan. To Sri Ramakrishna's remark that Vaishnavcharan had declared him to be an Avatar, Gauri replied: "Is that all he has to say about you? Then he has said very little. I am fully convinced that you are that Mine of Spiritual Power, only a small fraction of which descends on earth, from time to time, in the form of an Incarnation."
--
Thus the insane priest was by verdict of the great scholars of the day proclaimed a Divine Incarnation. His visions were not the result of an over-heated brain; they had precedent in spiritual history. And how did the proclamation affect Sri Ramakrishna himself? He remained the simple child of the Mother that he had been since the first day of his life. Years later, when two of his householder disciples openly spoke of him as a Divine Incarnation and the matter was reported to him, he said with a touch of sarcasm: "Do they think they will enhance my glory that way? One of them is an actor on the stage and the other a physician. What do they know about Incarnations? Why, years ago pundits like Gauri and Vaishnavcharan declared me to be an Avatar. They were great scholars and knew what they said. But that did not make any change in my mind."
Sri Ramakrishna was a learner all his life. He often used to quote a proverb to his disciples: "Friend, the more I live the more I learn." When the excitement created by the Brahmani's declaration was over, he set himself to the task of practising spiritual disciplines according to the traditional methods laid down in the Tantra and Vaishnava scriptures. Hitherto he had pursued his spiritual ideal according to the promptings of his own mind and heart. Now he accepted the Brahmani as his guru and set foot on the traditional highways.
--- TANTRA
According to the Tantra, the Ultimate Reality is Chit, or Consciousness, which is identical with Sat, or Being, and with Ananda, or Bliss. This Ultimate Reality, Satchidananda, Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute, is identical with the Reality preached in the Vedas. And man is identical with this Reality; but under the influence of maya, or illusion, he has forgotten his true nature. He takes to be real a merely apparent world of subject and object, and this error is the cause of his bondage and suffering. The goal of spiritual discipline is the re discovery of his true identity with the divine Reality.
For the achievement of this goal the Vedanta prescribes an austere negative method of discrimination and renunciation, which can be followed by only a few individuals endowed with sharp intelligence and unshakable will-power. But Tantra takes into consideration the natural weakness of human beings, their lower appetites, and their love for the concrete. It combines philosophy with rituals, meditation with ceremonies, renunciation with enjoyment. The underlying purpose is gradually to train the aspirant to meditate on his identity with the Ultimate.
The average man wishes to enjoy the material objects of the world. Tantra bids him enjoy these, but at the same time discover in them the presence of God. Mystical rites are prescribed by which, slowly, the sense-objects become spiritualized and sense attraction is transformed into a love of God. So the very "bonds" of man are turned into "releasers". The very poison that kills is transmuted into the elixir of life. Outward renunciation is not necessary. Thus the aim of Tantra is to sublimate bhoga, or enjoyment into yoga, or union with Consciousness. For, according to this philosophy, the world with all its manifestations is nothing but the sport of Siva and Sakti, the Absolute and Its inscrutable Power.
The disciplines of Tantra are graded to suit aspirants of all degrees. Exercises are prescribed for people with "animal", "heroic", and "divine" outlooks. Certain of the rites require the presence of members of the opposite sex. Here the aspirant learns to look on woman as the embodiment of the Goddess Kali, the Mother of the Universe. The very basis of Tantra is the Motherhood of God and the glorification of woman. Every part of a woman's body is to be regarded as incarnate Divinity. But the rites are extremely dangerous. The help of a qualified guru is absolutely necessary. An unwary devotee may lose his foothold and fall into a pit of depravity.
According to the Tantra, Sakti is the active creative force in the universe. Siva, the Absolute, is a more or less passive principle. Further, Sakti is as inseparable from Siva as fire's power to burn is from fire itself. Sakti, the Creative Power, contains in Its womb the universe, and therefore is the Divine Mother. All women are Her symbols. Kali is one of Her several forms. The meditation on Kali, the Creative Power, is the central discipline of the Tantra. While meditating, the aspirant at first regards himself as one with the Absolute and then thinks that out of that Impersonal Consciousness emerge two entities, namely, his own self and the living form of the Goddess. He then projects the Goddess into the tangible image before him and worships it as the Divine Mother.
Sri Ramakrishna set himself to the task of practising the disciplines of Tantra; and at the bidding of the Divine Mother Herself he accepted the Brahmani as his guru. He performed profound and delicate ceremonies in the Panchavati and under the bel-tree at the northern extremity of the temple compound. He practised all the disciplines of the sixty-four principal Tantra books, and it took him never more than three days to achieve the result promised in any one of them. After the observance of a few preliminary rites, he would be overwhelmed with a strange divine fervour and would go into samadhi, where his mind would dwell in exaltation. Evil ceased to exist for him. The word "carnal" lost its meaning. The whole world and everything in it appeared as the lila, the sport, of Siva and Sakti. He beheld held everywhere manifest the power and beauty of the Mother; the whole world, animate and inanimate, appeared to him as pervaded with Chit, Consciousness, and with Ananda, Bliss.
He saw in a vision the Ultimate Cause of the universe as a huge luminous triangle giving birth every moment to an infinite number of worlds. He heard the Anahata Sabda, the great sound Om, of which the innumerable sounds of the universe are only so many echoes. He acquired the eight supernatural powers of yoga, which make a man almost omnipotent, and these he spurned as of no value whatsoever to the Spirit. He had a vision of the divine Maya, the inscrutable Power of God, by which the universe is created and sustained, and into which it is finally absorbed. In this vision he saw a woman of exquisite beauty, about to become a mother, emerging from the Ganges and slowly approaching the Panchavati. Presently she gave birth to a child and began to nurse it tenderly. A moment later she assumed a terrible aspect, seized the child with her grim jaws, and crushed it. Swallowing it, she re-entered the waters of the Ganges.
But the most remarkable experience during this period was the awakening of the Kundalini Sakti, the "Serpent Power". He actually saw the Power, at first lying asleep at the bottom of the spinal column, then waking up and ascending along the mystic Sushumna canal and through its six centres, or lotuses, to the Sahasrara, the thousand-petalled lotus in the top of the head. He further saw that as the Kundalini went upward the different lotuses bloomed. And this phenomenon was accompanied by visions and trances. Later on he described to his disciples and devotees the various movements of the Kundalini: the fishlike, birdlike, monkeylike, and so on. The awaken- ing of the Kundalini is the beginning of spiritual consciousness, and its union with Siva in the Sahasrara, ending in samadhi, is the consummation of the Tantrik disciplines.
About this time it was revealed to him that in a short while many devotees would seek his guidance.
--- VAISHNAVA disCIPLINES
After completing the Tantrik sadhana Sri Ramakrishna followed the Brahmani in the disciplines of Vaishnavism. The Vaishnavas are worshippers of Vishnu, the "All-pervading", the Supreme God, who is also known as Hari and Narayana. Of Vishnu's various Incarnations the two with the largest number of followers are Rama and Krishna.
Vaishnavism is exclusively a religion of bhakti. Bhakti is intense love of God, attachment to Him alone; it is of the nature of bliss and bestows upon the lover immortality and liberation. God, according to Vaishnavism, cannot be realized through logic or reason; and, without bhakti, all penances, austerities and rites are futile. Man cannot realize God by self-exertion alone. For the vision of God His grace is absolutely necessary, and this grace is felt by the pure of heart. The mind is to be purified through bhakti. The pure mind then remains for ever immersed in the ecstasy of God-vision. It is the cultivation of this divine love that is the chief concern of the Vaishnava religion.
There are three kinds of formal devotion: tamasic, rajasic, and sattvic. If a person, while showing devotion, to God, is actuated by malevolence, arrogance, jealousy, or anger, then his devotion is tamasic, since it is influenced by tamas, the quality of inertia. If he worships God from a desire for fame or wealth, or from any other worldly ambition, then his devotion is rajasic, since it is influenced by rajas, the quality of activity. But if a person loves God without any thought of material gain, if he performs his duties to please God alone and maintains toward all created beings the attitude of friendship, then his devotion is called sattvic, since it is influenced by sattva, the quality of harmony. But the highest devotion transcends the three gunas, or qualities, being a spontaneous, uninterrupted inclination of the mind toward God, the Inner Soul of all beings; and it wells up in the heart of a true devotee as soon as he hears the name of God or mention of God's attributes. A devotee possessed of this love would not accept the happiness of heaven if it were offered him. His one desire is to love God under all conditions — in pleasure and pain, life and death, honour and dishonour, prosperity and adversity.
There are two stages of bhakti. The first is known as vaidhi-bhakti, or love of God qualified by scriptural injunctions. For the devotees of this stage are prescribed regular and methodical worship, hymns, prayers, the repetition of God's name, and the chanting of His glories. This lower bhakti in course of time matures into para-bhakti, or supreme devotion, known also as prema, the most intense form of divine love. Divine love is an end in itself. It exists potentially in all human hearts, but in the case of bound creatures it is misdirected to earthly objects.
--
While practising the discipline of the madhur bhava, the male devotee often regards himself as a woman, in order to develop the most intense form of love for Sri Krishna, the only purusha, or man, in the universe. This assumption of the attitude of the opposite sex has a deep psychological significance. It is a matter of common experience that an idea may be cultivated to such an intense degree that every idea alien to it is driven from the mind. This peculiarity of the mind may be utilized for the subjugation of the lower desires and the development of the spiritual nature. Now, the idea which is the basis of all desires and passions in a man is the conviction of his in dissoluble association with a male body. If he can inoculate himself thoroughly with the idea that he is a woman, he can get rid of the desires peculiar to his male body. Again, the idea that he is a woman may in turn be made to give way to another higher idea, namely, that he is neither man nor woman, but the Impersonal Spirit. The Impersonal Spirit alone can enjoy real communion with the Impersonal God. Hence the highest est realization of the Vaishnava draws close to the transcendental experience of the Vedantist.
A beautiful expression of the Vaishnava worship of God through love is to be found in the Vrindavan episode of the Bhagavata. The gopis, or milk-maids, of Vrindavan regarded the six-year-old Krishna as their Beloved. They sought no personal gain or happiness from this love. They surrendered to Krishna their bodies, minds, and souls. Of all the gopis, Radhika, or Radha, because of her intense love for Him, was the closest to Krishna. She manifested mahabhava and was united with her Beloved. This union represents, through sensuous language, a supersensuous experience.
Sri Chaitanya, also known as Gauranga, Gora, or Nimai, born in Bengal in 1485 and regarded as an Incarnation of God, is a great prophet of the Vaishnava religion. Chaitanya declared the chanting of God's name to be the most efficacious spiritual discipline for the Kaliyuga.
Sri Ramakrishna, as the monkey Hanuman, had already worshipped God as his Master. Through his devotion to Kali he had worshipped God as his Mother. He was now to take up the other relationships prescribed by the Vaishnava scriptures.
--
About the year 1864 there came to Dakshineswar a wandering Vaishnava monk, Jatadhari, whose Ideal Deity was Rama. He always carried with him a small metal image of the Deity, which he called by the endearing name of Ramlala, the Boy Rama. Toward this little image he displayed the tender affection of Kausalya for her divine Son, Rama. As a result of lifelong spiritual practice he had actually found in the metal image the presence of his Ideal. Ramlala was no longer for him a metal image, but the living God. He devoted himself to nursing Rama, feeding Rama, playing with Rama, taking Rama for a walk, and bathing Rama. And he found that the image responded to his love.
Sri Ramakrishna, much impressed with his devotion, requested Jatadhari to spend a few days at Dakshineswar. Soon Ramlala became the favourite companion of Sri Ramakrishna too. Later on he described to the devotees how the little image would dance gracefully before him, jump on his back, insist on being taken in his arms, run to the fields in the sun, pluck flowers from the bushes, and play pranks like a naughty boy. A very sweet relationship sprang up between him and Ramlala, for whom he felt the love of a mother.
--
Sri Ramakrishna now devoted himself to scaling the most inaccessible and dizzy heights of dualistic worship, namely, the complete union with Sri Krishna as the Beloved of the heart. He regarded himself as one of the gopis of Vrindavan, mad with longing for her divine Sweetheart. At his request Mathur provided him with woman's dress and jewelry. In this love-pursuit, food and drink were forgotten. Day and night he wept bitterly. The yearning turned into a mad frenzy; for the divine Krishna began to play with him the old tricks He had played with the gopis. He would tease and taunt, now and then revealing Himself, but always keeping at a distance. Sri Ramakrishna's anguish brought on a return of the old physical symptoms: the burning sensation, an oozing of blood through the pores, a loosening of the joints, and the stopping of physiological functions.
The Vaishnava scriptures advise one to propitiate Radha and obtain her grace in order to realize Sri Krishna. So the tortured devotee now turned his prayer to her. Within a short time he enjoyed her blessed vision. He saw and felt the figure of Radha disappearing into his own body.
He said later on: "It is impossible to describe the heavenly beauty and sweetness of Radha. Her very appearance showed that she had completely forgotten herself in her passionate attachment to Krishna. Her complexion was a light yellow."
--
The path of the Vedantic discipline is the path of negation, "neti", in which, by stern determination, all that is unreal is both negated and renounced. It is the path of jnana, knowledge, the direct method of realizing the Absolute. After the negation of everything relative, including the discriminating ego itself, the aspirant merges in the One without a Second, in the bliss of nirvikalpa samadhi, where subject and object are alike dissolved. The soul goes beyond the realm of thought. The domain of duality is transcended. Maya is left behind with all its changes and modifications. The Real Man towers above the delusions of creation, preservation, and destruction. An avalanche of indescribable Bliss sweeps away all relative ideas of pain and pleasure, good and evil. There shines in the heart the glory of the Eternal Brahman, Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute. Knower, knowledge, and known are dissolved in the Ocean of one eternal Consciousness; love, lover, and beloved merge in the unbounded Sea of supreme Felicity; birth, growth, and death vanish in infinite Existence. All doubts and misgivings are quelled for ever; the oscillations of the mind are stopped; the momentum of past actions is exhausted. Breaking down the ridge-pole of the tabernacle in which the soul has made its abode for untold ages, stilling the body, calming the mind, drowning the ego, the sweet joy of Brahman wells up in that superconscious state. Space disappears into nothingness, time is swallowed in eternity, and causation becomes a dream of the past. Only Existence is. Ah! Who can describe what the soul then feels in its communion with the Self?
Even when man descends from this dizzy height, he is devoid of ideas of "I" and "mine"; he looks on the body as a mere shadow, an outer sheath encasing the soul. He does not dwell on the past, takes no thought for the future, and looks with indifference on the present. He surveys everything in the world with an eye of equality; he is no longer touched by the infinite variety of phenomena; he no longer reacts to pleasure and pain. He remains unmoved whether he — that is to say, his body — is worshipped by the good or tormented by the wicked; for he realizes that it is the one Brahman that manifests Itself through everything. The impact of such an experience devastates the body and mind. Consciousness becomes blasted, as it were, with an excess of Light. In the Vedanta books it is said that after the experience of nirvikalpa samadhi the body drops off like a dry leaf. Only those who are born with a special mission for the world can return
--
Totapuri arrived at the Dakshineswar temple garden toward the end of 1864. Perhaps born in the Punjab, he was the head of a monastery in that province of India and claimed leadership of seven hundred sannyasis. Trained from early youth in the disciplines of the Advaita Vedanta, he looked upon the world as an illusion. The gods and goddesses of the dualistic worship were to him mere fantasies of the deluded mind. Prayers, ceremonies, rites, and rituals had nothing to do with true religion, and about these he was utterly indifferent. Exercising self-exertion and unshakable will-power, he had liberated himself from attachment to the sense-objects of the relative universe. For forty years he had practised austere discipline on the bank of the sacred Narmada and had finally realized his identity with the Absolute. Thenceforward he roamed in the world as an unfettered soul, a lion free from the cage. Clad in a loin-cloth, he spent his days under the canopy of the sky alike in storm and sunshine, feeding his body on the slender pittance of alms. He had been visiting the estuary of the Ganges. On his return journey along the bank of the sacred river, led by the inscrutable Divine Will, he stopped at Dakshineswar.
Totapuri, discovering at once that Sri Ramakrishna was prepared to be a student of Vedanta, asked to initiate him into its mysteries. With the permission of the Divine Mother, Sri Ramakrishna agreed to the proposal. But Totapuri explained that only a sannyasi could receive the teaching of Vedanta. Sri Ramakrishna agreed to renounce the world, but with the stipulation that the ceremony of his initiation into the monastic order be performed in secret, to spare the feelings of his old mother, who had been living with him at Dakshineswar.
On the appointed day, in the small hours of the morning, a fire was lighted in the Panchavati. Totapuri and Sri Ramakrishna sat before it. The flame played on their faces. "Ramakrishna was a small brown man with a short beard and beautiful eyes, long dark eyes, full of light, obliquely set and slightly veiled, never very wide open, but seeing half-closed a great distance both outwardly and inwardly. His mouth was open over his white teeth in a bewitching smile, at once affectionate and mischievous. Of medium height, he was thin to emaciation and extremely delicate. His temperament was high-strung, for he was supersensitive to all the winds of joy and sorrow, both moral and physical. He was indeed a living reflection of all that happened before the mirror of his eyes, a two-sided mirror, turned both out and in." (Romain Rolland, Prophets of the New India, pp. 38-9.) Facing him, the other rose like a rock. He was very tall and robust, a sturdy and tough oak. His constitution and mind were of iron. He was the strong leader of men.
In the burning flame before him Sri Ramakrishna performed the rituals of destroying his attachment to relatives, friends, body, mind, sense-organs, ego, and the world. The leaping flame swallowed it all, making the initiate free and pure. The sacred thread and the tuft of hair were consigned to the fire, completing his severance from caste, sex, and society. Last of all he burnt in that fire, with all that is holy as his witness, his desire for enjoyment here and hereafter. He uttered the sacred mantras giving assurance of safety and fearlessness to all beings, who were only manifestations of his own Self. The rites completed, the disciple received from the guru the loin-cloth and ochre robe, the emblems of his new life.
The teacher and the disciple repaired to the meditation room near by. Totapuri began to impart to Sri Ramakrishna the great truths of Vedanta.
"Brahman", he said, "is the only Reality, ever pure, ever illumined, ever free, beyond the limits of time, space, and causation. Though apparently divided by names and forms through the inscrutable power of maya, that enchantress who makes the impossible possible, Brahman is really One and undivided. When a seeker merges in the beatitude of samadhi, he does not perceive time and space or name and form, the offspring of maya. Whatever is within the domain of maya is unreal. Give it up. Destroy the prison-house of name and form and rush out of it with the strength of a lion. Dive deep in search of the Self and realize It through samadhi. You will find the world of name and form vanishing into void, and the puny ego dissolving in Brahman-Consciousness. You will realize your identity with Brahman, Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute." Quoting the Upanishad, Totapuri said: "That knowledge is shallow by which one sees or hears or knows another
. What is shallow is worthless and can never give real felicity. But the Knowledge by which one does not see another or hear another or know another, which is beyond duality, is great, and through such Knowledge one attains the Infinite Bliss. How can the mind and senses grasp That which shines in the heart of all as the Eternal Subject?"
Totapuri asked the disciple to withdraw his mind from all objects of the relative world, including the gods and goddesses, and to concentrate on the Absolute. But the task was not easy even for Sri Ramakrishna. He found it impossible to take his mind beyond Kali, the Divine Mother of the Universe. "After the initiation", Sri Ramakrishna once said, describing the event, "Nangta began to teach me the various conclusions of the Advaita Vedanta and asked me to withdraw the mind completely from all objects and dive deep into the Atman. But in spite of all my attempts I could not altogether cross the realm of name and form and bring my mind to the unconditioned state. I had no difficulty in taking the mind from all the objects of the world. But the radiant and too familiar figure of the Blissful Mother, the Embodiment of the essence of Pure Consciousness, appeared before me as a living reality. Her bewitching smile prevented me from passing into the Great Beyond. Again and again I tried, but She stood in my way every time. In despair I said to Nangta: 'It is hopeless. I cannot raise my mind to the unconditioned state and come face to face with Atman.' He grew excited and sharply said: 'What? You can't do it? But you have to.' He cast his eyes around. Finding a piece of glass he took it up and stuck it between my eyebrows. 'Concentrate the mind on this point!' he thundered. Then with stern determination I again sat to meditate. As soon as the gracious form of the Divine Mother appeared before me, I used my discrimination as a sword and with it clove Her in two. The last barrier fell. My spirit at once soared beyond the relative plane and I lost myself in samadhi."
Sri Ramakrishna remained completely absorbed in samadhi for three days. "Is it really true?" Totapuri cried out in astonishment. "Is it possible that he has attained in a single day what it took me forty years of strenuous practice to achieve? Great God! It is nothing short of a miracle!" With the help of Totapuri, Sri Ramakrishna's mind finally came down to the relative plane.
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Sri Ramakrishna, on the other hand, though fully aware, like his guru, that the world is an illusory appearance, instead of slighting maya, like an orthodox monist, acknowledged its power in the relative life. He was all love and reverence for maya, perceiving in it a mysterious and majestic expression of Divinity. To him maya itself was God, for everything was God. It was one of the faces of Brahman. What he had realized on the heights of the transcendental plane, he also found here below, everywhere about him, under the mysterious garb of names and forms. And this garb was a perfectly transparent sheath, through which he recognized the glory of the Divine Immanence. Maya, the mighty weaver of the garb, is none other than Kali, the Divine Mother. She is the primordial Divine Energy, Sakti, and She can no more be distinguished from the Supreme Brahman than can the power of burning be distinguished from fire. She projects the world and again withdraws it. She spins it as the spider spins its web. She is the Mother of the Universe, identical with the Brahman of Vedanta, and with the Atman of Yoga. As eternal Lawgiver, She makes and unmakes laws; it is by Her imperious will that karma yields its fruit. She ensnares men with illusion and again releases them from bondage with a look of Her benign eyes. She is the supreme Mistress of the cosmic play, and all objects, animate and inanimate, dance by Her will. Even those who realize the Absolute in nirvikalpa samadhi are under Her jurisdiction as long as they still live on the relative plane.
Thus, after nirvikalpa samadhi, Sri Ramakrishna realized maya in an altogether new role. The binding aspect of Kali vanished from before his vision. She no longer obscured his understanding. The world became the glorious manifestation of the Divine Mother. Maya became Brahman. The Transcendental Itself broke through the Immanent. Sri Ramakrishna discovered that maya operates in the relative world in two ways, and he termed these "avidyamaya" and "vidyamaya". Avidyamaya represents the dark forces of creation: sensuous desires, evil passions, greed, lust, cruelty, and so on. It sustains the world system on the lower planes. It is responsible for the round of man's birth and death. It must be fought and vanquished. But vidyamaya is the higher force of creation: the spiritual virtues, the enlightening qualities, kindness, purity, love, devotion. Vidyamaya elevates man to the higher planes of consciousness. With the help of vidyamaya the devotee rids himself of avidyamaya; he then becomes mayatita, free of maya. The two aspects of maya are the two forces of creation, the two powers of Kali; and She stands beyond them both. She is like the effulgent sun, bringing into existence and shining through and standing behind the clouds of different colours and shapes, conjuring up wonderful forms in the blue autumn heaven.
The Divine Mother asked Sri Ramakrishna not to be lost in the featureless Absolute but to remain, in bhavamukha, on the threshold of relative consciousness, the border line between the Absolute and the Relative. He was to keep himself at the "sixth centre" of Tantra, from which he could see not only the glory of the seventh, but also the divine manifestations of the Kundalini in the lower centres. He gently oscillated back and forth across the dividing line. Ecstatic devotion to the Divine Mother alternated with serene absorption in the Ocean of Absolute Unity. He thus bridged the gulf between the Personal and the Impersonal, the immanent and the transcendent aspects of Reality. This is a unique experience in the recorded spiritual history of the world.
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One day, when guru and disciple were engaged in an animated discussion about Vedanta, a servant of the temple garden came there and took a coal from the sacred fire that had been lighted by the great ascetic. He wanted it to light his tobacco. Totapuri flew into a rage and was about to beat the man. Sri Ramakrishna rocked with laughter. "What a shame!" he cried. "You are explaining to me the reality of Brahman and the illusoriness of the world; yet now you have so far forgotten yourself as to be about to beat a man in a fit of passion. The power of maya is indeed inscrutable!" Totapuri was embarrassed.
About this time Totapuri was suddenly laid up with a severe attack of dysentery. On account of this miserable illness he found it impossible to meditate. One night the pain became excruciating. He could no longer concentrate on Brahman. The body stood in the way. He became incensed with its demands. A free soul, he did not at all care for the body. So he determined to drown it in the Ganges. Thereupon he walked into the river. But, lo! He walks to the other bank." (This version of the incident is taken from the biography of Sri Ramakrishna by Swami Saradananda, one of the Master's direct disciples.) Is there not enough water in the Ganges? Standing dumbfounded on the other bank he looks back across the water. The trees, the temples, the houses, are silhouetted against the sky. Suddenly, in one dazzling moment, he sees on all sides the presence of the Divine Mother. She is in everything; She is everything. She is in the water; She is on land. She is the body; She is the mind. She is pain; She is comfort. She is knowledge; She is ignorance. She is life; She is death. She is everything that one sees, hears, or imagines. She turns "yea" into "nay", and "nay" into "yea". Without Her grace no embodied being can go beyond Her realm. Man has no free will. He is not even free to die. Yet, again, beyond the body and mind She resides in Her Transcendental, Absolute aspect. She is the Brahman that Totapuri had been worshipping all his life.
Totapuri returned to Dakshineswar and spent the remaining hours of the night meditating on the Divine Mother. In the morning he went to the Kali temple with Sri Ramakrishna and prostrated himself before the image of the Mother. He now realized why he had spent eleven months at Dakshineswar. Bidding farewell to the disciple, he continued on his way, enlightened.
Sri Ramakrishna later described the significance of Totapuri's lessons:
"When I think of the Supreme Being as inactive — neither creating nor preserving nor destroying —, I call Him Brahman or Purusha, the Impersonal God. When I think of Him as active — creating, preserving, and destroying —, I call Him Sakti or Maya or Prakriti, the Personal God. But the distinction between them does not mean a difference. The Personal and the Impersonal are the same thing, like milk and its whiteness, the diamond and its lustre, the snake and its wriggling motion. It is impossible to conceive of the one without the other. The Divine Mother and Brahman are one."
After the departure of Totapuri, Sri Ramakrishna remained for six months in a state of absolute identity with Brahman. "For six months at a stretch", he said, "I remained in that state from which ordinary men can never return; generally the body falls off, after three weeks, like a sere leaf. I was not conscious of day and night. Flies would enter my mouth and nostrils just as they do a dead body's, but I did not feel them. My hair became matted with dust."
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From now on Sri Ramakrishna began to seek the company of devotees and holy men. He had gone through the storm and stress of spiritual disciplines and visions. Now he realized an inner calmness and appeared to others as a normal person. But he could not bear the company of worldly people or listen to their talk. Fortunately the holy atmosphere of Dakshineswar and the liberality of Mathur attracted monks and holy men from all parts of the country. Sadhus of all denominations — monists and dualists, Vaishnavas and Vedantists, Saktas and worshippers of Rama — flocked there in ever increasing numbers. Ascetics and visionaries came to seek Sri Ramakrishna's advice. Vaishnavas had come during the period of his Vaishnava sadhana, and Tantriks when he practised the disciplines of Tantra. Vedantists began to arrive after the departure of Totapuri. In the room of Sri Ramakrishna, who was then in bed with dysentery, the Vedantists engaged in scriptural discussions, and, forgetting his own physical suffering, he solved their doubts by referring directly to his own experiences. Many of the visitors were genuine spiritual souls, the unseen pillars of Hinduism, and their spiritual lives were quickened in no small measure by the sage of Dakshineswar. Sri Ramakrishna in turn learnt from them anecdotes concerning the ways and the conduct of holy men, which he subsequently narrated to his devotees and disciples. At his request Mathur provided him with large stores of food-stuffs, clothes, and so forth, for distribution among the wandering monks.
"Sri Ramakrishna had not read books, yet he possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of religions and religious philosophies. This he acquired from his contacts with innumerable holy men and scholars. He had a unique power of assimilation; through meditation he made this knowledge a part of his being. Once, when he was asked by a disciple about the source of his seemingly inexhaustible knowledge, he replied; "I have not read; but I have heard the learned. I have made a garland of their knowledge, wearing it round my neck, and I have given it as an offering at the feet of the Mother."
Sri Ramakrishna used to say that when the flower blooms the bees come to it for honey of their own accord. Now many souls began to visit Dakshineswar to satisfy their spiritual hunger. He, the devotee and aspirant, became the Master. Gauri, the great scholar who had been one of the first to proclaim Sri Ramakrishna an Incarnation of God, paid the Master a visit in 1870 and with the Master's blessings renounced the world. Narayan Shastri, another great pundit, who had mastered the six systems of Hindu philosophy and had been offered a lucrative post by the Maharaja of Jaipur, met the Master and recognized in him one who had realized in life those ideals which he himself had encountered merely in books. Sri Ramakrishna initiated Narayan Shastri, at his earnest request, into the life of sannyas. Pundit Padmalochan, the court pundit of the Maharaja of Burdwan, well known for his scholarship in both the Vedanta and the Nyaya systems of philosophy, accepted the Master as an Incarnation of God. Krishnakishore, a Vedantist scholar, became devoted to the Master. And there arrived Viswanath Upadhyaya, who was to become a favourite devotee; Sri Ramakrishna always addressed him as "Captain". He was a high officer of the King of Nepal and had received the title of Colonel in recognition of his merit. A scholar of the Gita, the Bhagavata, and the Vedanta philosophy, he daily performed the worship of his Chosen Deity with great devotion. "I have read the Vedas and the other scriptures", he said. "I have also met a good many monks and devotees in different places. But it is in Sri Ramakrishna's presence that my spiritual yearnings have been fulfilled. To me he seems to be the embodiment of the truths of the scriptures."
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Toward the end of 1866 he began to practise the disciplines of Islam. Under the direction of his Mussalman guru he abandoned himself to his new sadhana. He dressed as a Mussalman and repeated the name of Allah. His prayers took the form of the Islamic devotions. He forgot the Hindu gods and goddesses — even Kali — and gave up visiting the temples. He took up his residence outside the temple precincts. After three days he saw the vision of a radiant figure, perhaps Mohammed. This figure gently approached him and finally lost himself in Sri Ramakrishna. Thus he realized the Mussalman God. Thence he passed into communion with Brahman. The mighty river of Islam also led him back to the Ocean of the Absolute.
--- CHRISTIANITY
Eight years later, some time in November 1874, Sri Ramakrishna was seized with an irresistible desire to learn the truth of the Christian religion. He began to listen to readings from the Bible, by Sambhu Charan Mallick, a gentleman of Calcutta and a devotee of the Master. Sri Ramakrishna became fascinated by the life and teachings of Jesus. One day he was seated in the parlour of Jadu Mallick's garden house (This expression is used throughout to translate the Bengali word denoting a rich man's country house set in a garden.) at Dakshineswar, when his eyes became fixed on a painting of the Madonna and Child. Intently watching it, he became gradually overwhelmed with divine emotion. The figures in the picture took on life, and the rays of light emanating from them entered his soul. The effect of this experience was stronger than that of the vision of Mohammed. In dismay he cried out, "O Mother! What are You doing to me?" And, breaking through the barriers of creed and religion, he entered a new realm of ecstasy. Christ possessed his soul. For three days he did not set foot in the Kali temple. On the fourth day, in the afternoon, as he was walking in the Panchavati, he saw coming toward him a person with beautiful large eyes, serene countenance, and fair skin. As the two faced each other, a voice rang out in the depths of Sri Ramakrishna's soul: "Behold the Christ, who shed His heart's blood for the redemption of the world, who suffered a sea of anguish for love of men. It is He, the Master Yogi, who is in eternal union with God. It is Jesus, Love Incarnate." The Son of Man embraced the Son of the Divine Mother and merged in him. Sri Ramakrishna krishna realized his identity with Christ, as he had already realized his identity with Kali, Rama, Hanuman, Radha, Krishna, Brahman, and Mohammed. The Master went into samadhi and communed with the Brahman with attributes. Thus he experienced the truth that Christianity, too, was a path leading to God-Consciousness. Till the last moment of his life he believed that Christ was an Incarnation of God. But Christ, for him, was not the only Incarnation; there were others — Buddha, for instance, and Krishna.
--- ATTITUDE TOWARD DIFFERENT RELIGIONS
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In 1867 Sri Ramakrishna returned to Kamarpukur to recuperate from the effect of his austerities. The peaceful countryside, the simple and artless companions of his boyhood, and the pure air did him much good. The villagers were happy to get back their playful, frank, witty, kind-hearted, and truthful Gadadhar, though they did not fail to notice the great change that had come over him during his years in Calcutta. His wife, Sarada Devi, now fourteen years old, soon arrived at Kamarpukur. Her spiritual development was much beyond her age and she was able to understand immediately her husband's state of mind. She became eager to learn from him about God and to live with him as his attendant. The Master accepted her cheerfully both as his disciple and as his spiritual companion. Referring to the experiences of these few days, she once said: "I used to feel always as if a pitcher full of bliss were placed in my heart. The joy was indescribable."
--- PILGRIMAGE
On January 27, 1868, Mathur Babu with a party of some one hundred and twenty-five persons set out on a pilgrimage to the sacred places of northern India. At Vaidyanath in Behar, when the Master saw the inhabitants of a village reduced by poverty and starvation to mere skeletons, he requested his rich patron to feed the people and give each a piece of cloth. Mathur demurred at the added expense. The Master declared bitterly that he would not go on to Benares, but would live with the poor and share their miseries. He actually left Mathur and sat down with the villagers. Whereupon Mathur had to yield. On another occasion, two years later, Sri Ramakrishna showed a similar sentiment for the poor and needy. He accompanied Mathur on a tour to one of the latter's estates at the time of the collection of rents. For two years the harvests had failed and the tenants were in a state of extreme poverty. The Master asked Mathur to remit their rents, distribute help to them, and in addition give the hungry people a sumptuous feast. When Mathur grumbled, the Master said: "You are only the steward of the Divine Mother. They are the Mother's tenants. You must spend the Mother's money. When they are suffering, how can you refuse to help them? You must help them." Again Mathur had to give in. Sri Ramakrishna's sympathy for the poor sprang from his perception of God in all created beings. His sentiment was not that of the humanist or philanthropist. To him the service of man was the same as the worship of God.
The party entered holy Benares by boat along the Ganges. When Sri Ramakrishna's eyes fell on this city of Siva, where had accumulated for ages the devotion and piety of countless worshippers, he saw it to be made of gold, as the scriptures declare. He was visibly moved. During his stay in the city he treated every particle of its earth with utmost respect. At the Manikarnika Ghat, the great cremation ground of the city, he actually saw Siva, with ash-covered body and tawny matted hair, serenely approaching each funeral pyre and breathing into the ears of the corpses the mantra of liberation; and then the Divine Mother removing from the dead their bonds. Thus he realized the significance of the scriptural statement that anyone dying in Benares attains salvation through the grace of Siva. He paid a visit to Trailanga Swami, the celebrated monk, whom he later declared to be a real paramahamsa, a veritable image of Siva.
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In 1872 Sarada Devi paid her first visit to her husband at Dakshineswar. Four years earlier she had seen him at Kamarpukur and had tasted the bliss of his divine company. Since then she had become even more gentle, tender, introspective, serious, and unselfish. She had heard many rumours about her husband's insanity. People had shown her pity in her misfortune. The more she thought, the more she felt that her duty was to be with him, giving him, in whatever measure she could, a wife's devoted service. She was now eighteen years old. Accompanied by her father, she arrived at Dakshineswar, having come on foot the distance of eighty miles. She had had an attack of fever on the way. When she arrived at the temple garden the Master said sorrowfully: "Ah! You have come too late. My Mathur is no longer here to look after you." Mathur had passed away the previous year.
The Master took up the duty of instructing his young wife, and this included everything from housekeeping to the Knowledge of Brahman. He taught her how to trim a lamp, how to behave toward people according to their differing temperaments, and how to conduct herself before visitors. He instructed her in the mysteries of spiritual life — prayer, meditation, japa, deep contemplation, and samadhi. The first lesson that Sarada Devi received was: "God is everybody's Beloved, just as the moon is dear to every child. Everyone has the same right to pray to Him. Out of His grace He reveals Himself to all who call upon Him. You too will see Him if you but pray to Him."
Totapuri, coming to know of the Master's marriage, had once remarked: "What does it matter? He alone is firmly established in the Knowledge of Brahman who can adhere to his spirit of discrimination and renunciation even while living with his wife. He alone has attained the supreme illumination who can look on man and woman alike as Brahman. A man with the idea of sex may be a good aspirant, but he is still far from the goal." Sri Ramakrishna and his wife lived together at Dakshineswar, but their minds always soared above the worldly plane. A few months after Sarada Devi's arrival Sri Ramakrishna arranged, on an auspicious day, a special worship of Kali, the Divine Mother. Instead of an image of the Deity, he placed on the seat the living image, Sarada Devi herself. The worshipper and the worshipped went into deep samadhi and in the transcendental plane their souls were united. After several hours Sri Ramakrishna came down again to the relative plane, sang a hymn to the Great Goddess, and surrendered, at the feet of the living image, himself, his rosary, and the fruit of his life-long sadhana. This is known in Tantra as the Shorasi Puja, the "Adoration of Woman". Sri Ramakrishna realized the significance of the great statement of the Upanishad: "O Lord, Thou art the woman. Thou art the man; Thou art the boy. Thou art the girl; Thou art the old, tottering on their crutches. Thou pervadest the universe in its multiple forms."
By his marriage Sri Ramakrishna admitted the great value of marriage in man's spiritual evolution, and by adhering to his monastic vows he demonstrated the imperative necessity of self-control, purity, and continence, in the realization of God. By this unique spiritual relationship with his wife he proved that husband and wife can live together as spiritual companions. Thus his life is a synthesis of the ways of life of the householder and the monk.
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Sarada Devi, in the company of her husband, had rare spiritual experiences. She said: "I have no words to describe my wonderful exaltation of spirit as I watched him in his different moods. Under the influence of divine emotion he would sometimes talk on abstruse subjects, sometimes laugh, sometimes weep, and sometimes become perfectly motionless in samadhi. This would continue throughout the night. There was such an extraordinary divine presence in him that now and then I would shake with fear and wonder how the night would pass. Months went by in this way. Then one day he discovered that I had to keep awake the whole night lest, during my sleep, he should go into samadhi — for it might happen at any moment —, and so he asked me to sleep in the nahabat."
--- SUMMARY OF THE MASTER'S SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCES
We have now come to the end of Sri Ramakrishna's sadhana, the period of his spiritual discipline. As a result of his supersensuous experiences he reached certain conclusions regarding himself and spirituality in general. His conclusions about himself may be summarized as follows:
First, he was an Incarnation of God, a specially commissioned person, whose spiritual experiences were for the benefit of humanity. Whereas it takes an ordinary man a whole life's struggle to realize one or two phases of God, he had in a few years realized God in all His phases.
Second, he knew that he had always been a free soul, that the various disciplines through which he had passed were really not necessary for his own liberation but were solely for the benefit of others. Thus the terms liberation and bondage were not applicable to him. As long as there are beings who consider themselves bound. God must come down to earth as an Incarnation to free them from bondage, just as a magistrate must visit any part of his district in which there is trouble.
Third, he came to foresee the time of his death. His words with respect to this matter were literally fulfilled.
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Keshab was the leader of the Brahmo Samaj, one of the two great movements that, during the latter part of the nineteenth century, played an important part in shaping the course of the renascence of India. The founder of the Brahmo movement had been the great Raja Rammohan Roy (1774-1833). Though born in an orthodox brahmin family, Rammohan Roy had shown great sympathy for Islam and Christianity. He had gone to Tibet in search of the Buddhist mysteries. He had extracted from Christianity its ethical system, but had rejected the divinity of Christ as he had denied the Hindu Incarnations. The religion of Islam influenced him, to a great extent, in the formulation of his monotheistic doctrines. But he always went back to the Vedas for his spiritual inspiration. The Brahmo Samaj, which he founded in 1828, was dedicated to the "worship and adoration of the Eternal, the Unsearchable, the Immutable Being, who is the Author and Preserver of the Universe". The Samaj was open to all without distinction of colour, creed, caste, nation, or religion.
The real organizer of the Samaj was Devendranath Tagore (1817-1905), the father of the poet Rabindranath. His physical and spiritual beauty, aristocratic aloofness, penetrating intellect, and poetic sensibility made him the foremost leader of the educated Bengalis. These addressed him by the respectful epithet of Maharshi, the "Great Seer". The Maharshi was a Sanskrit scholar and, unlike Raja Rammohan Roy, drew his inspiration entirely from the Upanishads. He was an implacable enemy of image worship ship and also fought to stop the infiltration of Christian ideas into the Samaj. He gave the movement its faith and ritual. Under his influence the Brahmo Samaj professed One Self-existent Supreme Being who had created the universe out of nothing, the God of Truth, Infinite Wisdom, Goodness, and Power, the Eternal and Omnipotent, the One without a Second. Man should love Him and do His will, believe in Him and worship Him, and thus merit salvation in the world to come.
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Keshab possessed a complex nature. When passing through a great moral crisis, he spent much of his time in solitude and felt that he heard the voice of God, When a devotional form of worship was introduced into the Brahmo Samaj, he spent hours in singing kirtan with his followers. He visited England land in 1870 and impressed the English people with his musical voice, his simple English, and his spiritual fervour. He was entertained by Queen Victoria. Returning to India, he founded centres of the Brahmo Samaj in various parts of the country. Not unlike a professor of comparative religion in a European university, he began to discover, about the time of his first contact with Sri Ramakrishna, the harmony of religions. He became sympathetic toward the Hindu gods and goddesses, explaining them in a liberal fashion. Further, he believed that he was called by God to dictate to the world God's newly revealed law, the New dispensation, the Navavidhan.
In 1878 a schism divided Keshab's Samaj. Some of his influential followers accused him of infringing the Brahmo principles by marrying his daughter to a wealthy man before she had attained the marriageable age approved by the Samaj. This group seceded and established the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj, Keshab remaining the leader of the Navavidhan. Keshab now began to be drawn more and more toward the Christ ideal, though under the influence of Sri Ramakrishna his devotion to the Divine Mother also deepened. His mental oscillation between Christ and the Divine Mother of Hinduism found no position of rest. In Bengal and some other parts of India the Brahmo movement took the form of unitarian Christianity, scoffed at Hindu rituals, and preached a crusade against image worship. Influenced by Western culture, it declared the supremacy of reason, advocated the ideals of the French Revolution, abolished the caste-system among its own members, stood for the emancipation of women, agitated for the abolition of early marriage, sanctioned the remarriage of widows, and encouraged various educational and social-reform movements. The immediate effect of the Brahmo movement in Bengal was the checking of the proselytizing activities of the Christian missionaries. It also raised Indian culture in the estimation of its English masters. But it was an intellectual and eclectic religious ferment born of the necessity of the time. Unlike Hinduism, it was not founded on the deep inner experiences of sages and prophets. Its influence was confined to a comparatively few educated men and women of the country, and the vast masses of the Hindus remained outside it. It sounded monotonously only one of the notes in the rich gamut of the Eternal Religion of the Hindus.
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The other movement playing an important part in the nineteenth-century religious revival of India was the Arya Samaj. The Brahmo Samaj, essentially a movement of compromise with European culture, tacitly admitted the superiority of the West. But the founder of the Arya Samaj was a ' pugnacious Hindu sannyasi who accepted the challenge of Islam and Christianity and was resolved to combat all foreign influence in India. Swami Dayananda (1824-1883) launched this movement in Bombay in 1875, and soon its influence was felt throughout western India. The Swami was a great scholar of the Vedas, which he explained as being strictly monotheistic. He preached against the worship of images and re-established the ancient Vedic sacrificial rites. According to him the Vedas were the ultimate authority on religion, and he accepted every word of them as literally true. The Arya Samaj became a bulwark against the encroachments of Islam and Christianity, and its orthodox flavour appealed to many Hindu minds. It also assumed leadership in many movements of social reform. The caste-system became a target of its attack. Women it liberated from many of their social disabilities. The cause of education received from it a great impetus. It started agitation against early marriage and advocated the remarriage of Hindu widows. Its influence was strongest in the Punjab, the battle-ground of the Hindu and Islamic cultures. A new fighting attitude was introduced into the slumbering Hindu society. Unlike the Brahmo Samaj, the influence of the Arya Samaj was not confined to the intellectuals. It was a force that spread to the masses. It was a dogmatic movement intolerant of those who disagreed with its views, and it emphasized only one way, the Arya Samaj way, to the realization of Truth. Sri Ramakrishna met Swami Dayananda when the latter visited Bengal.
--- KESHAB CHANDRA SEN
Keshab Chandra Sen and Sri Ramakrishna met for the first time in the garden house of Jaygopal Sen at Belgharia, a few miles from Dakshineswar, where the great Brahmo leader was staying with some of his disciples. In many respects the two were poles apart, though an irresistible inner attraction was to make them intimate friends. The Master had realized God as Pure Spirit and Consciousness, but he believed in the various forms of God as well. Keshab, on the other hand, regarded image worship as idolatry and gave allegorical explanations of the Hindu deities. Keshab was an orator and a writer of books and magazine articles; Sri Ramakrishna had a horror of lecturing and hardly knew how to write his own name, Keshab's fame spread far and wide, even reaching the distant shores of England; the Master still led a secluded life in the village of Dakshineswar. Keshab emphasized social reforms for India's regeneration; to Sri Ramakrishna God-realization was the only goal of life. Keshab considered himself a disciple of Christ and accepted in a diluted form the Christian sacraments and Trinity; Sri Ramakrishna was the simple child of Kali, the Divine Mother, though he too, in a different way, acknowledged Christ's divinity. Keshab was a householder holder and took a real interest in the welfare of his children, whereas Sri Ramakrishna was a paramahamsa and completely indifferent to the life of the world. Yet, as their acquaintance ripened into friendship, Sri Ramakrishna and Keshab held each other in great love and respect. Years later, at the news of Keshab's death, the Master felt as if half his body had become paralyzed. Keshab's concepts of the harmony of religions and the Motherhood of God were deepened and enriched by his contact with Sri Ramakrishna.
Sri Ramakrishna, dressed in a red-bordered dhoti, one end of which was carelessly thrown over his left shoulder, came to Jaygopal's garden house accompanied by Hriday. No one took notice of the unostentatious visitor. Finally the Master said to Keshab, "People tell me you have seen God; so I have come to hear from you about God." A magnificent conversation followed. The Master sang a thrilling song about Kali and forthwith went into samadhi. When Hriday uttered the sacred "Om" in his ears, he gradually came back to consciousness of the world, his face still radiating a divine brilliance. Keshab and his followers were amazed. The contrast between Sri Ramakrishna and the Brahmo devotees was very interesting. There sat this small man, thin and extremely delicate. His eyes were illumined with an inner light. Good humour gleamed in his eyes and lurked in the corners of his mouth. His speech was Bengali of a homely kind with a slight, delightful stammer, and his words held men enthralled by their wealth of spiritual experience, their inexhaustible store of simile and metaphor, their power of observation, their bright and subtle humour, their wonderful catholicity, their ceaseless flow of wisdom. And around him now were the sophisticated men of Bengal, the best products of Western education, with Keshab, the idol of young Bengal, as their leader.
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Gradually other Brahmo leaders began to feel Sri Ramakrishna's influence. But they were by no means uncritical admirers of the Master. They particularly disapproved of his ascetic renunciation and condemnation of "woman and gold".1 They measured him according to their own ideals of the householder's life. Some could not understand his samadhi and described it as a nervous malady. Yet they could not resist his magnetic personality.
Among the Brahmo leaders who knew the Master closely were Pratap Chandra Mazumdar, Vijaykrishna Goswami, Trailokyanath Sannyal, and Shivanath Shastri.
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Shivanath vehemently criticized the Master for his other-worldly attitude toward his wife. He writes: "Ramakrishna was practically separated from his wife, who lived in her village home. One day when I was complaining to some friends about the virtual widowhood of his wife, he drew me to one side and whispered in my ear: 'Why do you complain? It is no longer possible; it is all dead and gone.' Another day as I was inveighing against this part of his teaching, and also declaring that our program of work in the Brahmo Samaj includes women, that ours is a social and domestic religion, and that we want to give education and social liberty to women, the saint became very much excited, as was his way when anything against his settled conviction was asserted — a trait we so much liked in him — and exclaimed, 'Go, thou fool, go and perish in the pit that your women will dig for you.' Then he glared at me and said: 'What does a gardener do with a young plant? Does he not surround it with a fence, to protect it from goats and cattle? And when the young plant has grown up into a tree and it can no longer be injured by cattle, does he not remove the fence and let the tree grow freely?' I replied, 'Yes, that is the custom with gardeners.' Then he remarked, 'Do the same in your spiritual life; become strong, be full-grown; then you may seek them.' To which I replied, 'I don't agree with you in thinking that women's work is like that of cattle, destructive; they are our associates and helpers in our spiritual struggles and social progress' — a view with which he could not agree, and he marked his dissent by shaking his head. Then referring to the lateness of the hour he jocularly remarked, 'It is time for you to depart; take care, do not be late; otherwise your woman will not admit you into her room.' This evoked hearty laughter."
Pratap Chandra Mazumdar, the right-hand man of Keshab and an accomplished Brahmo preacher in Europe and America, bitterly criticized Sri Ramakrishna's use of uncultured language and also his austere attitude toward his wife. But he could not escape the spell of the Master's personality. In the course of an article about Sri Ramakrishna, Pratap wrote in the "Theistic Quarterly Review": "What is there in common between him and me? I, a Europeanized, civilized, self-centred, semi-sceptical, so-called educated reasoner, and he, a poor, illiterate, unpolished, half-idolatrous, friendless Hindu devotee? Why should I sit long hours to attend to him, I, who have listened to disraeli and Fawcett, Stanley and Max Muller, and a whole host of European scholars and divines? . . . And it is not I only, but dozens like me, who do the same. . . . He worships Siva, he worships Kali, he worships Rama, he worships Krishna, and is a confirmed advocate of Vedantic doctrines. . . . He is an idolater, yet is a faithful and most devoted meditator on the perfections of the One Formless, Absolute, Infinite Deity. . . . His religion is ecstasy, his worship means transcendental insight, his whole nature burns day and night with a permanent fire and fever of a strange faith and feeling. . . . So long as he is spared to us, gladly shall we sit at his feet to learn from him the sublime precepts of purity, unworldliness, spirituality, and inebriation in the love of God. . . . He, by his childlike bhakti, by his strong conceptions of an ever-ready Motherhood, helped to unfold it [God as our Mother] in our minds wonderfully. . . . By associating with him we learnt to realize better the divine attributes as scattered over the three hundred and thirty millions of deities of mythological India, the gods of the Puranas."
The Brahmo leaders received much inspiration from their contact with Sri Ramakrishna. It broadened their religious views and kindled in their hearts the yearning for God-realization; it made them understand and appreciate the rituals and symbols of Hindu religion, convinced them of the manifestation of God in diverse forms, and deepened their thoughts about the harmony of religions. The Master, too, was impressed by the sincerity of many of the Brahmo devotees. He told them about his own realizations and explained to them the essence of his teachings, such as the necessity of renunciation, sincerity in the pursuit of one's own course of discipline, faith in God, the performance of one's duties without thought of results, and discrimination between the Real and the unreal.
This contact with the educated and progressive Bengalis opened Sri Ramakrishna's eyes to a new realm of thought. Born and brought up in a simple village, without any formal education, and taught by the orthodox holy men of India in religious life, he had had no opportunity to study the influence of modernism on the thoughts and lives of the Hindus. He could not properly estimate the result of the impact of Western education on Indian culture. He was a Hindu of the Hindus, renunciation being to him the only means to the realization of God in life. From the Brahmos he learnt that the new generation of India made a compromise between God and the world. Educated young men were influenced more by the Western philosophers than by their own prophets. But Sri Ramakrishna was not dismayed, for he saw in this, too, the hand of God. And though he expounded to the Brahmos all his ideas about God and austere religious disciplines, yet he bade them accept from his teachings only as much as suited their tastes and temperaments.
^The term "woman and gold", which has been used throughout in a collective sense, occurs again and again in the teachings of Sri Ramakrishna to designate the chief impediments to spiritual progress. This favourite expression of the Master, "kaminikanchan", has often been misconstrued. By it he meant only "lust and greed", the baneful influence of which retards the aspirant's spiritual growth. He used the word "kamini", or "woman", as a concrete term for the sex instinct when addressing his man devotees. He advised women, on the other hand, to shun "man". "Kanchan", or "gold", symbolizes greed, which is the other obstacle to spiritual life.
Sri Ramakrishna never taught his disciples to hate any woman, or womankind in general. This can be seen clearly by going through all his teachings under this head and judging them collectively. The Master looked on all women as so many images of the Divine Mother of the Universe. He paid the highest homage to womankind by accepting a woman as his guide while practising the very profound spiritual disciplines of Tantra. His wife, known and revered as the Holy Mother, was his constant companion and first disciple. At the end of his spiritual practice he literally worshipped his wife as the embodiment of the Goddess Kali, the Divine Mother. After his passing away the Holy Mother became the spiritual guide not only of a large number of householders, but also of many monastic members of the Ramakrishna Order.
--- THE MASTER'S YEARNING FOR HIS OWN DEVOTEES
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In the year 1879 occasional writings about Sri Ramakrishna by the Brahmos, in the Brahmo magazines, began to attract his future disciples from the educated middle-class Bengalis, and they continued to come till 1884. But others, too, came, feeling the subtle power of his attraction. They were an ever shifting crowd of people of all castes and creeds: Hindus and Brahmos, Vaishnavas and Saktas, the educated with university degrees and the illiterate, old and young, maharajas and beggars, journalists and artists, pundits and devotees, philosophers and the worldly-minded, jnanis and yogis, men of action and men of faith, virtuous women and prostitutes, office-holders and vagabonds, philanthropists and self-seekers, dramatists and drunkards, builders-up and pullers-down. He gave to them all, without stint, from his illimitable store of realization. No one went away empty-handed. He taught them the lofty .knowledge of the Vedanta and the soul
-melting love of the Purana. Twenty hours out of twenty-four he would speak without out rest or respite. He gave to all his sympathy and enlightenment, and he touched them with that strange power of the soul which could not but melt even the most hardened. And people understood him according to their powers of comprehension.
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But he remained as ever the willing instrument in the hand of God, the child of the Divine Mother, totally untouched by the idea of being a teacher. He used to say that three ideas — that he was a guru, a father, and a master — pricked his flesh like thorns. Yet he was an extraordinary teacher. He stirred his disciples' hearts more by a subtle influence than by actions or words. He never claimed to be the founder of a religion or the organizer of a sect. Yet he was a religious dynamo. He was the verifier of all religions and creeds. He was like an expert gardener, who prepares the soil and removes the weeds, knowing that the plants will grow because of the inherent power of the seeds, producing each its appropriate flowers and fruits. He never thrust his ideas on anybody. He understood people's limitations and worked on the principle that what is good for one may be bad for another. He had the unusual power of knowing the devotees' minds, even their inmost souls, at the first sight. He accepted disciples with the full knowledge of their past tendencies and future possibilities. The life of evil did not frighten him, nor did religious squeamishness raise anybody in his estimation. He saw in everything the unerring finger of the Divine Mother. Even the light that leads astray was to him the light from God.
To those who became his intimate disciples the Master was a friend, companion, and playmate. Even the chores of religious discipline would be lightened in his presence. The devotees would be so inebriated with pure joy in his company that they would have no time to ask themselves whether he was an Incarnation, a perfect soul, or a yogi. His very presence was a great teaching; words were superfluous. In later years his disciples remarked that while they were with him they would regard him as a comrade, but afterwards would tremble to think of their frivolities in the presence of such a great person. They had convincing proof that the Master could, by his mere wish, kindle in their hearts the love of God and give them His vision.
Through all this fun and frolic, this merriment and frivolity, he always kept before them the shining ideal of God-Consciousness and the path of renunciation. He prescribed ascents steep or graded according to the powers of the climber. He permitted no compromise with the basic principles of purity. An aspirant had to keep his body, mind, senses, and soul unspotted; had to have a sincere love for God and an ever mounting spirit of yearning. The rest would be done by the Mother.
His disciples were of two kinds: the householders, and the young men, some of whom were later to become monks. There was also a small group of women devotees.
--- HOUSEHOLDER DEVOTEES
For the householders Sri Ramakrishna did not prescribe the hard path of total renunciation. He wanted them to discharge their obligations to their families. Their renunciation was to be mental. Spiritual life could not be acquired by flying away from responsibilities. A married couple should live like brother and sister after the birth of one or two children, devoting their time to spiritual talk and contemplation. He encouraged the householders, saying that their life was, in a way, easier than that of the monk, since it was more advantageous to fight the enemy from inside a fortress than in an open field. He insisted, however, on their repairing into solitude every now and then to strengthen their devotion and faith in God through prayer, japa, and meditation. He prescribed for them the companionship of sadhus. He asked them to perform their worldly duties with one hand, while holding to God with the other, and to pray to God to make their duties fewer and fewer so that in the end they might cling to Him with both hands. He would discourage in both the householders and the celibate youths any lukewarmness in their spiritual struggles. He would not ask them to follow in discriminately the ideal of non-resistance, which ultimately makes a coward of the unwary.
--- FUTURE MONKS
But to the young men destined to be monks he pointed out the steep path of renunciation, both external and internal. They must take the vow of absolute continence and eschew all thought of greed and lust. By the practice of continence, aspirants develop a subtle nerve through which they understand the deeper mysteries of God. For them self-control is final, imperative, and absolute. The sannyasis are teachers of men, and their lives should be totally free from blemish. They must not even look at a picture which may awaken their animal passions. The Master selected his future monks from young men untouched by "woman and gold" and plastic enough to be cast in his spiritual mould. When teaching them the path of renunciation and discrimination, he would not allow the householders to be anywhere near them.
--- RAM AND MANOMOHAN
The first two householder devotees to come to Dakshineswar were Ramchandra Dutta and Manomohan Mitra. A medical practitioner and chemist, Ram was sceptical about God and religion and never enjoyed peace of soul. He wanted tangible proof of God's existence. The Master said to him: "God really" exists. You don't see the stars in the day-time, but that doesn't mean that the stars do not exist. There is butter in milk. But can anybody see it by merely looking at the milk? To get butter you must churn milk in a quiet and cool place. You cannot realize God by a mere wish; you must go through some mental disciplines." By degrees the Master awakened Ram's spirituality and the latter became one of his foremost lay disciples. It was Ram who introduced Narendranath to Sri Ramakrishna. Narendra was a relative of Ram.
Manomohan at first met with considerable opposition from his wife and other relatives, who resented his visits to Dakshineswar. But in the end the unselfish love of the Master triumphed over worldly affection. It was Manomohan who brought Rakhal to the Master.
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Suresh Mitra, a beloved disciple whom the Master often addressed as Surendra, had received an English education and held an important post in an English firm. Like many other educated young men of the time, he prided himself on his atheism and led a Bohemian life. He was addicted to drinking. He cherished an exaggerated notion about man's free will. A victim of mental depression, he was brought to Sri Ramakrishna by Ramchandra chandra Dutta. When he heard the Master asking a disciple to practise the virtue of self-surrender to God, he was impressed. But though he tried thenceforth to do so, he was unable to give up his old associates and his drinking. One day the Master said in his presence, "Well, when a man goes to an undesirable place, why doesn't he take the Divine Mother with him?" And to Surendra himself Sri Ramakrishna said: "Why should you drink wine as wine? Offer it to Kali, and then take it as Her prasad, as consecrated drink
. But see that you don't become intoxicated; you must not reel and your thoughts must not wander. At first you will feel ordinary excitement, but soon you will experience spiritual exaltation." Gradually Surendra's entire life was changed. The Master designated him as one of those commissioned by the Divine Mother to defray a great part of his expenses. Surendra's purse was always open for the Master's comfort.
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Balaram Bose came of a wealthy Vaishnava family. From his youth he had shown a deep religious temperament and had devoted his time to meditation, prayer, and the study of the Vaishnava scriptures. He was very much impressed by Sri Ramakrishna even at their first meeting. He asked Sri Ramakrishna whether God really existed and, if so, whether a man could realize Him. The Master said: "God reveals Himself to the devotee who thinks of Him as his nearest and dearest. Because you do not draw response by praying to Him once, you must not conclude that He does not exist. Pray to God, thinking of Him as dearer than your very self. He is much attached to His devotees. He comes to a man even before He is sought. There is none more intimate and affectionate than God." Balaram had never before heard God spoken of in such forceful words; every one of the words seemed true to him. Under the Master's influence he outgrew the conventions of the Vaishnava worship and became one of the most beloved of the disciples. It was at his home that the Master slept whenever he spent a night in Calcutta.
--- MAHENDRA OR M.
Mahendranath Gupta, better known as "M.", arrived at Dakshineswar in March 1882. He belonged to the Brahmo Samaj and was headmaster of the Vidyasagar High School at Syambazar, Calcutta. At the very first sight the Master recognized him as one of his "marked" disciples. Mahendra recorded in his diary Sri Ramakrishna's conversations with his devotees. These are the first directly recorded words, in the spiritual history of the world, of a man recognized as belonging in the class of Buddha and Christ. The present volume is a translation of this diary. Mahendra was instrumental, through his personal contacts, in spreading the Master's message among many young and aspiring souls.
--- NAG MAHASHAY
Durgacharan Nag, also known as Nag Mahashay, was the ideal householder among the lay disciples of Sri Ramakrishna. He was the embodiment of the Master's ideal of life in the world, unstained by worldliness. In spite of his intense desire to become a sannyasi, Sri Ramakrishna asked him to live in the world in the spirit of a monk, and the disciple truly carried out this injunction. He was born of a poor family and even during his boyhood often sacrificed everything to lessen the sufferings of the needy. He had married at an early age and after his wife's death had married a second time to obey his father's command. But he once said to his wife: "Love on the physical level never lasts. He is indeed blessed who can give his love to God with his whole heart. Even a little attachment to the body endures for several births. So do not be attached to this cage of bone and flesh. Take shelter at the feet of the Mother and think of Her alone. Thus your life here and hereafter will be ennobled." The Master spoke of him as a "blazing light". He received every word of Sri Ramakrishna in dead earnest. One day he heard the Master saying that it was difficult for doctors, lawyers, and brokers to make much progress in spirituality. Of doctors he said, "If the mind clings to the tiny drops of medicine, how can it conceive of the Infinite?" That was the end of Durgacharan's medical practice and he threw his chest of medicines into the Ganges. Sri Ramakrishna assured him that he would not lack simple food and clothing. He bade him serve holy men. On being asked where he would find real holy men, the Master said that the sadhus themselves would seek his company. No sannyasi could have lived a more austere life than Durgacharan.
--- GIRISH GHOSH
Girish Chandra Ghosh was a born rebel against God, a sceptic, a Bohemian, a drunkard. He was the greatest Bengali dramatist of his time, the father of the modem Bengali stage. Like other young men he had imbibed all the vices of the West. He had plunged into a life of dissipation and had become convinced that religion was only a fraud. Materialistic philosophy he justified as enabling one to get at least a little fun out of life. But a series of reverses shocked him and he became eager to solve the riddle of life. He had heard people say that in spiritual life the help of a guru was imperative and that the guru was to be regarded as God Himself. But Girish was too well acquainted with human nature to see perfection in a man. His first meeting with Sri Ramakrishna did not impress him at all. He returned home feeling as if he had seen a freak at a circus; for the Master, in a semi-conscious mood, had inquired whether it was evening, though the lamps were burning in the room. But their paths often crossed, and Girish could not avoid further encounters. The Master attended a performance in Girish's Star Theatre. On this occasion, too, Girish found nothing impressive about him. One day, however, Girish happened to see the Master dancing and singing with the devotees. He felt the contagion and wanted to join them, but restrained himself for fear of ridicule. Another day Sri Ramakrishna was about to give him spiritual instruction, when Girish said: "I don't want to listen to instructions. I have myself written many instructions. They are of no use to me. Please help me in a more tangible way If you can." This pleased the Master and he asked Girish to cultivate faith.
As time passed, Girish began to learn that the guru is the one who silently unfolds the disciple's inner life. He became a steadfast devotee of the Master. He often loaded the Master with insults, drank in his presence, and took liberties which astounded the other devotees. But the Master knew that at heart Girish was tender, faithful, and sincere. He would not allow Girish to give up the theatre. And when a devotee asked him to tell Girish to give up drinking, he sternly replied: "That is none of your business. He who has taken charge of him will look after him. Girish is a devotee of heroic type. I tell you, drinking will not affect him." The Master knew that mere words could not induce a man to break deep-rooted habits, but that the silent influence of love worked miracles. Therefore he never asked him to give up alcohol, with the result that Girish himself eventually broke the habit. Sri Ramakrishna had strengthened Girish's resolution by allowing him to feel that he was absolutely free.
One day Girish felt depressed because he was unable to submit to any routine of spiritual discipline. In an exalted mood the Master said to him: "All right, give me your power of attorney. Henceforth I assume responsibility for you. You need not do anything." Girish heaved a sigh of relief. He felt happy to think that Sri Ramakrishna had assumed his spiritual responsibilities. But poor Girish could not then realize that He also, on his part, had to give up his freedom and make of himself a puppet in Sri Ramakrishna's hands. The Master began to discipline him according to this new attitude. One day Girish said about a trifling matter, "Yes, I shall do this." "No, no!" the Master corrected him. "You must not speak in that egotistic manner. You should say, 'God willing, I shall do it.'" Girish understood. Thenceforth he tried to give up all idea of personal responsibility and surrender himself to the Divine Will. His mind began to dwell constantly on Sri Ramakrishna. This unconscious meditation in time chastened his turbulent spirit.
The householder devotees generally visited Sri Ramakrishna on Sunday afternoons and other holidays. Thus a brotherhood was gradually formed, and the Master encouraged their fraternal feeling. Now and then he would accept an invitation to a devotee's home, where other devotees would also be invited. Kirtan would be arranged and they would spend hours in dance and devotional music. The Master would go into trances or open his heart in religious discourses and in the narration of his own spiritual experiences. Many people who could not go to Dakshineswar participated in these meetings and felt blessed. Such an occasion would be concluded with a sumptuous feast.
But it was in the company of his younger devotees, pure souls yet unstained by the touch of worldliness, that Sri Ramakrishna took greatest joy. Among the young men who later embraced the householder's life were Narayan, Paitu, the younger Naren, Tejchandra, and Purna. These visited the Master sometimes against strong opposition from home.
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Mahimacharan and Pratap Hazra were two devotees outstanding for their pretentiousness and idiosyncrasies. But the Master showed them his unfailing love and kindness, though he was aware of their shortcomings. Mahimacharan Chakravarty had met the Master long before the arrival of the other disciples. He had had the intention of leading a spiritual life, but a strong desire to acquire name and fame was his weakness. He claimed to have been initiated by Totapuri and used to say that he had been following the path of knowledge according to his guru's instructions. He possessed a large library of English and Sanskrit books. But though he pretended to have read them, most of the leaves were uncut. The Master knew all his limitations, yet enjoyed listening to him recite from the Vedas and other scriptures. He would always exhort Mahima to meditate on the meaning of the scriptural texts and to practise spiritual discipline.
Pratap Hazra, a middle-aged man, hailed from a village near Kamarpukur. He was not altogether unresponsive to religious feelings. On a moment's impulse he had left his home, aged mother, wife, and children, and had found shelter in the temple garden at Dakshineswar, where he intended to lead a spiritual life. He loved to argue, and the Master often pointed him out as an example of barren argumentation. He was hypercritical of others and cherished an exaggerated notion of his own spiritual advancement. He was mischievous and often tried to upset the minds of the Master's young disciples, criticizing them for their happy and joyous life and asking them to devote their time to meditation. The Master teasingly compared Hazra to Jatila and Kutila, the two women who always created obstructions in Krishna's sport with the gopis, and said that Hazra lived at Dakshineswar to "thicken the plot" by adding complications.
--- SOME NOTED MEN
Sri Ramakrishna also became acquainted with a number of people whose scholarship or wealth entitled them everywhere to respect. He had met, a few years before, Devendranath Tagore, famous all over Bengal for his wealth, scholarship, saintly character, and social position. But the Master found him disappointing; for, whereas Sri Ramakrishna expected of a saint complete renunciation of the world, Devendranath combined with his saintliness a life of enjoyment. Sri Ramakrishna met the great poet Michael Madhusudan, who had embraced Christianity "for the sake of his stomach". To him the Master could not impart instruction, for the Divine Mother "pressed his tongue". In addition he met Maharaja Jatindra Mohan Tagore, a titled aristocrat of Bengal; Kristodas Pal, the editor, social reformer, and patriot; Iswar Vidyasagar, the noted philanthropist and educator; Pundit Shashadhar, a great champion of Hindu orthodoxy; Aswini Kumar Dutta, a headmaster, moralist, and leader of Indian Nationalism; and Bankim Chatterji, a deputy magistrate, novelist, and essayist, and one of the fashioners of modern Bengali prose. Sri Ramakrishna was not the man to be dazzled by outward show, glory, or eloquence. A pundit without discrimination he regarded as a mere straw. He would search people's hearts for the light of God, and if that was missing he would have nothing to do with them.
--- KRISTODAS PAL
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--- MONASTIC disCIPLES
The disciples whom the Master trained for monastic life were the following:
Narendranath Dutta (Swami Vivekananda)
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Even before Rakhal's coming to Dakshineswar, the Master had had visions of him as his spiritual son and as a playmate of Krishna at Vrindavan. Rakhal was born of wealthy parents. During his childhood he developed wonderful spiritual traits and used to play at worshipping gods and goddesses. In his teens he was married to a sister of Manomohan Mitra, from whom he first heard of the Master. His father objected to his association with Sri Ramakrishna but afterwards was reassured to find that many celebrated people were visitors at Dakshineswar. The relationship between the Master and this beloved disciple was that of mother and child. Sri Ramakrishna allowed Rakhal many liberties denied to others. But he would not hesitate to chastise the boy for improper actions. At one time Rakhal felt a childlike jealousy because he found that other boys were receiving the Master's affection. He soon got over it and realized his guru as the Guru of the whole universe. The Master was worried to hear of his marriage, but was relieved to find that his wife was a spiritual soul who would not be a hindrance to his progress.
--- THE ELDER GOPAL
Gopal Sur of Sinthi came to Dakshineswar at a rather advanced age and was called the elder Gopal. He had lost his wife, and the Master assuaged his grief. Soon he renounced the world and devoted himself fully to meditation and prayer. Some years later Gopal gave the Master the ochre cloths with which the latter initiated several of his disciples into monastic life.
--- NARENDRA
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Narendra was born in Calcutta on January 12, 1863, of an aristocratic kayastha family. His mother was steeped in the great Hindu epics, and his father, a distinguished attorney of the Calcutta High Court, was an agnostic about religion, a friend of the poor, and a mocker at social conventions. Even in his boyhood and youth Narendra possessed great physical courage and presence of mind, a vivid imagination, deep power of thought, keen intelligence, an extraordinary memory, a love of truth, a passion for purity, a spirit of independence, and a tender heart. An expert musician, he also acquired proficiency in physics, astronomy, mathematics, philosophy, history, and literature. He grew up into an extremely handsome young man. Even as a child he practised meditation and showed great power of concentration. Though free and passionate in word and action, he took the vow of austere religious chastity and never allowed the fire of purity to be extinguished by the slightest defilement of body or soul.
As he read in college the rationalistic Western philosophers of the nineteenth century, his boyhood faith in God and religion was unsettled. He would not accept religion on mere faith; he wanted demonstration of God. But very soon his passionate nature discovered that mere Universal Reason was cold and bloodless. His emotional nature, dissatisfied with a mere abstraction, required a concrete support to help him in the hours of temptation. He wanted an external power, a guru, who by embodying perfection in the flesh would still the commotion of his soul. Attracted by the magnetic personality of Keshab, he joined the Brahmo Samaj and became a singer in its choir. But in the Samaj he did not find the guru who could say that he had seen God.
In a state of mental conflict and torture of soul, Narendra came to Sri Ramakrishna at Dakshineswar. He was then eighteen years of age and had been in college two years. He entered the Master's room accompanied by some light-hearted friends. At Sri Ramakrishna's request he sang a few songs, pouring his whole soul into them, and the Master went into samadhi. A few minutes later Sri Ramakrishna suddenly left his seat, took Narendra by the hand, and led him to the screened verandah north of his room. They were alone. Addressing Narendra most tenderly, as if he were a friend of long acquaintance, the Master said: "Ah! You have come very late. Why have you been so unkind as to make me wait all these days? My ears are tired of hearing the futile words of worldly men. Oh, how I have longed to pour my spirit into the heart of someone fitted to receive my message!" He talked thus, sobbing all the time. Then, standing before Narendra with folded hands, he addressed him as Narayana, born on earth to remove the misery of humanity. Grasping Narendra's hand, he asked him to come again, alone, and very soon. Narendra was startled. "What is this I have come to see?" he said to himself. "He must be stark mad. Why, I am the son of Viswanath Dutta. How dare he speak this way to me?"
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Sri Ramakrishna was grateful to the Divine Mother for sending him one who doubted his own realizations. Often he asked Narendra to test him as the money-changers test their coins. He laughed at Narendra's biting criticism of his spiritual experiences and samadhi. When at times Narendra's sharp words distressed him, the Divine Mother Herself would console him, saying: "Why do you listen to him? In a few days he will believe your every word." He could hardly bear Narendra's absences. Often he would weep bitterly for the sight of him. Sometimes Narendra would find the Master's love embarrassing; and one day he sharply scolded him, warning him that such infatuation would soon draw him down to the level of its object. The Master was distressed and prayed to the Divine Mother. Then he said to Narendra: "You rogue, I won't listen to you any more. Mother says that I love you because I see God in you, and the day I no longer see God in you I shall not be able to bear even the sight of you."
The Master wanted to train Narendra in the teachings of the non-dualistic Vedanta philosophy. But Narendra, because of his Brahmo upbringing, considered it wholly blasphemous to look on man as one with his Creator. One day at the temple garden he laughingly said to a friend: "How silly! This jug is God! This cup is God! Whatever we see is God! And we too are God! Nothing could be more absurd." Sri Ramakrishna came out of his room and gently touched him. Spellbound, he immediately perceived that everything in the world was indeed God. A new universe opened around him. Returning home in a dazed state, he found there too that the food, the plate, the eater himself, the people around him, were all God. When he walked in the street, he saw that the cabs, the horses, the streams of people, the buildings, were all Brahman. He could hardly go about his day's business. His parents became anxious about him and thought him ill. And when the intensity of the experience abated a little, he saw the world as a dream. Walking in the public square, he would strike his head against the iron railings to know whether they were real. It took him a number of days to recover his normal self. He had a foretaste of the great experiences yet to come and realized that the words of the Vedanta were true.
At the beginning of 1884 Narendra's father suddenly died of heart-failure, leaving the family in a state of utmost poverty. There were six or seven mouths to feed at home. Creditors were knocking at the door. Relatives who had accepted his father's unstinted kindness now became enemies, some even bringing suit to deprive Narendra of his ancestral home. Actually starving and barefoot, Narendra searched for a job, but without success. He began to doubt whether anywhere in the world there was such a thing as unselfish sympathy. Two rich women made evil proposals to him and promised to put an end to his distress; but he refused them with contempt.
Narendra began to talk of his doubt of the very existence of God. His friends thought he had become an atheist, and piously circulated gossip adducing unmentionable motives for his unbelief. His moral character was maligned. Even some of the Master's disciples partly believed the gossip, and Narendra told these to their faces that only a coward believed in God through fear of suffering or hell. But he was distressed to think that Sri Ramakrishna, too, might believe these false reports. His pride revolted. He said to himself: "What does it matter? If a man's good name rests on such slender foundations, I don't care." But later on he was amazed to learn that the Master had never lost faith in him. To a disciple who complained about Narendra's degradation, Sri Ramakrishna replied: "Hush, you fool! The Mother has told me it can never be so. I won't look at you if you speak that way again."
The moment came when Narendra's distress reached its climax. He had gone the whole day without food. As he was returning home in the evening he could hardly lift his tired limbs. He sat down in front of a house in sheer exhaustion, too weak even to think. His mind began to wander. Then, suddenly, a divine power lifted the veil over his soul. He found the solution of the problem of the coexistence of divine justice and misery, the presence of suffering in the creation of a blissful Providence. He felt bodily refreshed, his soul was bathed in peace, and he slept serenely.
Narendra now realized that he had a spiritual mission to fulfil. He resolved to renounce the world, as his grandfather had renounced it, and he came to Sri Ramakrishna for his blessing. But even before he had opened his mouth, the Master knew what was in his mind and wept bitterly at the thought of separation. "I know you cannot lead a worldly life," he said, "but for my sake live in the world as long as I live."
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Others destined to be monastic disciples of Sri Ramakrishna came to Dakshineswar. Taraknath Ghoshal had felt from his boyhood the noble desire to realize God. Keshab and the Brahmo Samaj had attracted him but proved inadequate. In 1882 he first met the Master at Ramchandra's house and was astonished to hear him talk about samadhi, a subject which always fascinated his mind. And that evening he actually saw a manifestation of that superconscious state in the Master. Tarak became a frequent visitor at Dakshineswar and received the Master's grace in abundance. The young boy often felt ecstatic fervour in meditation. He also wept profusely while meditating on God. Sri Ramakrishna said to him: "God favours those who can weep for Him. Tears shed for God wash away the sins of former births."
--- BABURAM
Baburam Ghosh came to Dakshineswar accompanied by Rakhal, his classmate. The Master, as was often his custom, examined the boy's physiognomy and was satisfied about his latent spirituality. At the age of eight Baburam had thought of leading a life of renunciation, in the company of a monk, in a hut shut out from the public view by a thick wall of trees. The very sight of the Panchavati awakened in his heart that dream of boyhood. Baburam was tender in body and soul. The Master used to say that he was pure to his very bones. One day Hazra in his usual mischievous fashion advised Baburam and some of the other young boys to ask Sri Ramakrishna for some spiritual powers and not waste their life in mere gaiety and merriment. The Master, scenting mischief, called Baburam to his side and said: "What can you ask of me? Isn't everything that I have already yours? Yes, everything I have earned in the shape of realizations is for the sake of you all. So get rid of the idea of begging, which alienates by creating a distance. Rather realize your kinship with me and gain the key to all the treasures.
--- NIRANJAN
Nitya Niranjan Sen was a disciple of heroic type. He came to the Master when he was eighteen years old. He was a medium for a group of spiritualists. During his first visit the Master said to him: "My boy, if you think always of ghosts you will become a ghost, and if you think of God you will become God. Now, which do you prefer?" Niranjan severed all connexions with the spiritualists. During his second visit the Master embraced him and said warmly: "Niranjan, my boy, the days are flitting away. When will you realize God? This life will be in vain if you do not realize Him. When will you devote your mind wholly to God?" Niranjan was surprised to see the Master's great anxiety for his spiritual welfare. He was a young man endowed with unusual spiritual parts. He felt disdain for worldly pleasures and was totally guileless, like a child. But he had a violent temper. One day, as he was coming in a country boat to Dakshineswar, some of his fellow passengers began to speak ill of the Master. Finding his protest futile, Niranjan began to rock the boat, threatening to sink it in mid stream. That silenced the offenders. When he reported the incident to the Master, he was rebuked for his inability to curb his anger.
--- JOGINDRA
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Sri Ramakrishna employed a ruse to bring Jogindra to him. As soon as the disciple entered the room, the Master rushed forward to meet the young man. Catching hold of the disciple's hand, he said: "What if you have married? Haven't I too married? What is there to be afraid of in that?" Touching his own chest he said: "If this [meaning himself] is propitious, then even a hundred thousand marriages cannot injure you. If you desire to lead a householder's life, then bring your wife here one day, and I shall see that she becomes a real companion in your spiritual progress. But if you want to lead a monastic life, then I shall eat up your attachment to the world." Jogin was dumbfounded at these words. He received new strength, and his spirit of renunciation was re-established.
--- SASHI AND SARAT
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The Master knew Hari's passion for Vedanta. But he did not wish any of his disciples to become a dry ascetic or a mere bookworm. So he asked Hari to practise Vedanta in life by giving up the unreal and following the Real. "But it is not so easy", Sri Ramakrishna said, "to realize the illusoriness of the world. Study alone does not help one very much. The grace of God is required. Mere personal effort is futile. A man is a tiny creature after all, with very limited powers. But he can achieve the impossible if he prays to God for His grace." Whereupon the Master sang a song in praise of grace. Hari was profoundly moved and shed tears. Later in life Hari achieved a wonderful synthesis of the ideals of the Personal God and the Impersonal Truth.
--- GANGADHAR
Gangadhar, Harinath's friend, also led the life of a strict brahmachari, eating vegetarian food cooked by his own hands and devoting himself to the study of the scriptures. He met the Master in 1884 and soon became a member of his inner circle. The Master praised his ascetic habit and attributed it to the spiritual disciplines of his past life. Gangadhar became a close companion of Narendra.
--- HARIPRASANNA
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Kaliprasad visited the Master toward the end of 1883. Given to the practice of meditation and the study of the scriptures. Kali was particularly interested in yoga. Feeling the need of a guru in spiritual life, he came to the Master and was accepted as a disciple. The young boy possessed a rational mind and often felt sceptical about the Personal God. The Master said to him: "Your doubts will soon disappear. Others, too, have passed through such a state of mind. Look at Naren. He now weeps at the names of Radha and Krishna." Kali began to see visions of gods and goddesses. Very soon these disappeared and in meditation he experienced vastness, infinity, and the other attributes of the Impersonal Brahman.
--- SUBODH
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Two more young men, Sarada Prasanna and Tulasi, complete the small band of the Master's disciples later to embrace the life of the wandering monk. With the exception of the elder Gopal, all of them were in their teens or slightly over. They came from middle-class Bengali families, and most of them were students in school or college. Their parents and relatives had envisaged for them bright worldly careers. They came to Sri Ramakrishna with pure bodies, vigorous minds, and uncontaminated souls. All were born with unusual spiritual attributes. Sri Ramakrishna accepted them, even at first sight, as his children, relatives, friends, and companions. His magic touch unfolded them. And later each according to his measure reflected the life of the Master, becoming a torch-bearer of his message across land and sea.
--- WOMAN DEVOTEES
With his woman devotees Sri Ramakrishna established a very sweet relationship. He himself embodied the tender traits of a woman: he had dwelt on the highest plane of Truth, where there is not even the slightest trace of sex; and his innate purity evoked only the noblest emotion in men and women alike. His woman devotees often said: "We seldom looked on Sri Ramakrishna as a member of the male sex. We regarded him as one of us. We never felt any constraint before him. He was our best confidant." They loved him as their child, their friend, and their teacher. In spiritual discipline he advised them to renounce lust and greed and especially warned them not to fall into the snares of men.
--- GOPAL MA
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In 1881 Hriday was dismissed from service in the Kali temple, for an act of in discretion, and was ordered by the authorities never again to enter the garden. In a way the hand of the Divine Mother may be seen even in this. Having taken care of Sri Ramakrishna during the stormy days of his spiritual discipline, Hriday had come naturally to consider himself the sole guardian of his uncle. None could approach the Master without his knowledge. And he would be extremely jealous if Sri Ramakrishna paid attention to anyone else. Hriday's removal made it possible for the real devotees of the Master to approach him freely and live with him in the temple garden.
During the week-ends the householders, enjoying a respite from their office duties, visited the Master. The meetings on Sunday afternoons were of the nature of little festivals. Refreshments were often served. Professional musicians now and then sang devotional songs. The Master and the devotees sang and danced, Sri Ramakrishna frequently going into ecstatic moods. The happy memory of such a Sunday would linger long in the minds of the devotees. Those whom the Master wanted for special instruction he would ask to visit him on Tuesdays and Saturdays. These days were particularly auspicious for the worship of Kali.
The young disciples destined to be monks, Sri Ramakrishna invited on week-days, when the householders were not present. The training of the householders and of the future monks had to proceed along entirely different lines. Since M. generally visited the Master on week-ends, the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna does not contain much mention of the future monastic disciples.
Finally, there was a handful of fortunate disciples, householders as well as youngsters, who were privileged to spend nights with the Master in his room. They would see him get up early in the morning and walk up and down the room, singing in his sweet voice and tenderly communing with the Mother.
--- INJURY TO THE MASTER'S ARM
One day, in January 1884, the Master was going toward the pine-grove when he went into a trance. He was alone. There was no one to support him or guide his footsteps. He fell to the ground and dislocated a bone in his left arm. This accident had a significant influence on his mind, the natural inclination of which was to soar above the consciousness of the body. The acute pain in the arm forced his mind to dwell on the body and on the world outside. But he saw even in this a divine purpose; for, with his mind compelled to dwell on the physical plane, he realized more than ever that he was an instrument in the hand of the Divine Mother, who had a mission to fulfil through his human body and mind. He also distinctly found that in the phenomenal world God manifests Himself, in an inscrutable way, through diverse human beings, both good and evil. Thus he would speak of God in the guise of the wicked, God in the guise of the pious. God in the guise of the hypocrite, God in the guise of the lewd. He began to take a special delight in watching the divine play in the relative world. Sometimes the sweet human relationship with God would appear to him more appealing than the all-effacing Knowledge of Brahman. Many a time he would pray: "Mother, don't make me unconscious through the Knowledge of Brahman. Don't give me Brahmajnana, Mother. Am I not Your child, and naturally timid? I must have my Mother. A million salutations to the Knowledge of Brahman! Give it to those who want it." Again he prayed: "O Mother let me remain in contact with men! Don't make me a dried-up ascetic. I want to enjoy Your sport in the world." He was able to taste this very rich divine experience and enjoy the love of God and the company of His devotees because his mind, on account of the injury to his arm, was forced to come down to the consciousness of the body. Again, he would make fun of people who proclaimed him as a Divine Incarnation, by pointing to his broken arm. He would say, "Have you ever heard of God breaking His arm?" It took the arm about five months to heal.
--- BEGINNING OF HIS ILLNESS
In April 1885 the Master's throat became inflamed. Prolonged conversation or absorption in samadhi, making the blood flow into the throat, would aggravate the pain. Yet when the annual Vaishnava festival was celebrated at Panihati, Sri Ramakrishna attended it against the doctor's advice. With a group of disciples he spent himself in music, dance, and ecstasy. The illness took a turn for the worse and was diagnosed as "clergyman's sore throat". The patient was cautioned against conversation and ecstasies. Though he followed the physician's directions regarding medicine and diet, he could neither control his trances nor withhold from seekers the solace of his advice. Sometimes, like a sulky child, he would complain to the Mother about the crowds, who gave him no rest day or night. He was overheard to say to Her; "Why do You bring here all these worthless people, who are like milk diluted with five times its own quantity of water? My eyes are almost destroyed with blowing the fire to dry up the water. My health is gone. It is beyond my strength. Do it Yourself, if You want it done. This (pointing to his own body) is but a perforated drum, and if you go on beating it day in and day out, how long will it last?"
But his large heart never turned anyone away. He said, "Let me be condemned to be born over and over again, even in the form of a dog, if I can be of help to a single soul." And he bore the pain, singing cheerfully, "Let the body be preoccupied with illness, but, O mind, dwell for ever in God's Bliss!"
One night he had a hemorrhage of the throat. The doctor now diagnosed the illness as cancer. Narendra was the first to break this heart-rending news to the disciples. Within three days the Master was removed to Calcutta for better treatment. At Balaram's house he remained a week until a suitable place could be found at Syampukur, in the northern section of Calcutta. During this week he dedicated himself practically without respite to the instruction of those beloved devotees who had been unable to visit him oftener at Dakshineswar. discourses incessantly flowed from his tongue, and he often went into samadhi. Dr. Mahendra Sarkar, the celebrated homeopath of Calcutta, was invited to undertake his treatment.
--- SYAMPUKUR
In the beginning of September 1885 Sri Ramakrishna was moved to Syampukur. Here Narendra organized the young disciples to attend the Master day and night. At first they concealed the Master's illness from their guardians; but when it became more serious they remained with him almost constantly, sweeping aside the objections of their relatives and devoting themselves whole-heartedly to the nursing of their beloved guru. These young men, under the watchful eyes of the Master and the leadership of Narendra, became the antaranga bhaktas, the devotees of Sri Ramakrishna's inner circle. They were privileged to witness many manifestations of the Master's divine powers. Narendra received instructions regarding the propagation of his message after his death.
The Holy Mother — so Sarada Devi had come to be affectionately known by Sri Ramakrishna's devotees — was brought from Dakshineswar to look after the general cooking and to prepare the special diet of the patient. The dwelling space being extremely limited, she had to adapt herself to cramped conditions. At three o'clock in the morning she would finish her bath in the Ganges and then enter a small covered place on the roof, where she spent the whole day cooking and praying. After eleven at night, when the visitors went away, she would come down to her small bedroom on the first floor to enjoy a few hours' sleep. Thus she spent three months, working hard, sleeping little, and praying constantly for the Master's recovery.
At Syampukur the devotees led an intense life. Their attendance on the Master was in itself a form of spiritual discipline. His mind was constantly soaring to an exalted plane of consciousness. Now and then they would catch the contagion of his spiritual fervour. They sought to divine the meaning of this illness of the Master, whom most of them had accepted as an Incarnation of God. One group, headed by Girish with his robust optimism and great power of imagination, believed that the illness was a mere pretext to serve a deeper purpose. The Master had willed his illness in order to bring the devotees together and promote solidarity among them. As soon as this purpose was served, he would himself get rid of the disease. A second group thought that the Divine Mother, in whose hand the Master was an instrument, had brought about this illness to serve Her own mysterious ends. But the young rationalists, led by Narendra, refused to ascribe a
supernatural cause to a natural phenomenon. They believed that the Master's body, a material thing, was subject, like all other material things, to physical laws. Growth, development, decay, and death were laws of nature to which the Master's body could not but respond. But though holding differing views, they all believed that it was to him alone that they must look for the attainment of their spiritual goal.
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It was noticed at this time that some of the devotees were making an unbridled display of their emotions. A number of them, particularly among the householders, began to cultivate, though at first unconsciously, the art of shedding tears, shaking the body, contorting the face, and going into trances, attempting thereby to imitate the Master. They began openly to declare Sri Ramakrishna a Divine Incarnation and to regard themselves as his chosen people, who could neglect religious disciplines with impunity. Narendra's penetrating eye soon sized up the situation. He found out that some of these external manifestations were being carefully practised at home, while some were the outcome of malnutrition, mental weakness, or nervous debility. He mercilessly exposed the devotees who were pretending to have visions, and asked all to develop a healthy religious spirit. Narendra sang inspiring songs for the younger devotees, read with them the Imitation of Christ and the Gita, and held before them the positive ideals of spirituality.
--- LAST DAYS AT COSSIPORE
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It took the group only a few days to become adjusted to the new environment. The Holy Mother, assisted by Sri Ramakrishna's niece, Lakshmi Devi, and a few woman devotees, took charge of the cooking for the Master and his attendants. Surendra willingly bore the major portion of the expenses, other householders contributing according to their means. Twelve disciples were constant attendants of the Master: Narendra, Rakhal, Baburam, Niranjan, Jogin, Latu, Tarak, the-elder Gopal, Kali, Sashi, Sarat, and the younger Gopal. Sarada, Harish, Hari, Gangadhar, and Tulasi visited the Master from time to time and practised sadhana at home. Narendra, preparing for his law examination, brought his books to the garden house in order to continue his studies during the infrequent spare moments. He encouraged his brother disciples to intensify their meditation, scriptural studies, and other spiritual disciplines. They all forgot their relatives and their
worldly duties.
Among the attendants Sashi was the embodiment of service. He did not practise meditation, japa, or any of the other disciplines followed by his brother devotees. He was convinced that service to the guru was the only religion for him. He forgot food and rest and was ever ready at the Master's bedside.
Pundit Shashadhar one day suggested to the Master that the latter could remove the illness by concentrating his mind on the throat, the scriptures having declared that yogis had power to cure themselves in that way. The Master rebuked the pundit. "For a scholar like you to make such a proposal!" he said. "How can I withdraw the mind from the Lotus Feet of God and turn it to this worthless cage of flesh and blood?" "For our sake at least", begged Narendra and the other disciples. "But", replied Sri Ramakrishna, do you think I enjoy this suffering? I wish to recover, but that depends on the Mother."
NARENDRA: "Then please pray to Her. She must listen to you."
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"I shall make the whole thing public before I go", the Master had said some time before. On January 1, 1886, he felt better and came down to the garden for a little stroll. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Some thirty lay disciples were in the hall or sitting about under the trees. Sri Ramakrishna said to Girish, "Well, Girish, what have you seen in me, that you proclaim me before everybody as an Incarnation of God?" Girish was not the man to be taken by surprise. He knelt before the Master and said, with folded hands, "What can an insignificant person like myself say about the One whose glory even sages like Vyasa and Valmiki could not adequately measure?" The Master was profoundly moved. He said: "What more shall I say? I bless you all. Be illumined!" He fell into a spiritual mood. Hearing these words the devotees, one and all, became overwhelmed with emotion. They rushed to him and fell at his feet. He touched them all, and each received an appropriate benediction. Each of them, at the touch of the Master, experienced ineffable bliss. Some laughed, some wept, some sat down to meditate, some began to pray. Some saw light, some had visions of their Chosen Ideals, and some felt within their bodies the rush of spiritual power.
Narendra, consumed with a terrific fever for realization, complained to the Master that all the others had attained peace and that he alone was dissatisfied. The Master asked what he wanted. Narendra begged for samadhi, so that he might altogether forget the world for three or four days at a time. "You are a fool", the Master rebuked him. "There is a state even higher than that. Isn't it you who sing, 'All that exists art Thou'? First of all settle your family affairs and then come to me. You will experience a state even higher than samadhi."
The Master did not hide the fact that he wished to make Narendra his spiritual heir. Narendra was to continue the work after Sri Ramakrishna's passing. Sri Ramakrishna said to him: "I leave these young men in your charge. See that they develop their spirituality and do not return home." One day he asked the boys, in preparation for a monastic life, to beg their food from door to door without thought of caste. They hailed the Master's order and went out with begging-bowls. A few days later he gave the ochre cloth of the sannyasi to each of them, including Girish, who was now second to none in his spirit of renunciation. Thus the Master himself laid the foundation of the future Ramakrishna Order of monks.
Sri Ramakrishna was sinking day by day. His diet was reduced to a minimum and he found it almost impossible to swallow. He whispered to M.: "I am bearing all this cheerfully, for otherwise you would be weeping. If you all say that it is better that the body should go rather than suffer this torture, I am willing." The next morning he said to his depressed disciples seated near the bed: "Do you know what I see? I see that God alone has become everything. Men and animals are only frameworks covered with skin, and it is He who is moving through their heads and limbs. I see that it is God Himself who has become the block, the executioner, and the victim for the sacrifice.' He fainted with emotion. Regaining partial consciousness, he said: "Now I have no pain. I am very well." Looking at Latu he said: "There sits Latu resting his head on the palm of his hand. To me it is the Lord who is seated in that posture."
The words were tender and touching. Like a mother he caressed Narendra and Rakhal, gently stroking their faces. He said in a half whisper to M., "Had this body been allowed to last a little longer, many more souls would have been illumined." He paused a moment and then said: "But Mother has ordained otherwise. She will take me away lest, finding me guileless and foolish, people should take advantage of me and persuade me to bestow on them the rare gifts of spirituality." A few minutes later he touched his chest and said: "Here are two beings. One is She and the other is Her devotee. It is the latter who broke his arm, and it is he again who is now ill. Do you understand me?" After a pause he added: "Alas! To whom shall I tell all this? Who will understand me?" "Pain", he consoled them again, 'is unavoidable as long as there is a body. The Lord takes on the body for the sake of His devotees."
Yet one is not sure whether the Master's soul actually was tortured by this agonizing disease. At least during his moments of spiritual exaltation — which became almost constant during the closing days of his life on earth — he lost all consciousness of the body, of illness and suffering. One of his attendants (Latu, later known as Swami Adbhutananda.) said later on: "While Sri Ramakrishna lay sick he never actually suffered pain. He would often say: 'O mind! Forget the body, forget the sickness, and remain merged in Bliss.' No, he did not really suffer. At times he would be in a state when the thrill of joy was clearly manifested in his body. Even when he could not speak he would let us know in some way that there was no suffering, and this fact was clearly evident to all who watched him. People who did not understand him thought that his suffering was very great. What spiritual joy he transmitted to us at that time! Could such a thing have been possible if he had 'been suffering physically? It was during this period that he taught us again these truths: 'Brahman is always unattached. The three gunas are in It, but It is unaffected by them, just as the wind carries odour yet remains odourless.' 'Brahman is Infinite Being, Infinite Wisdom, Infinite Bliss. In It there exist no delusion, no misery, no disease, no death, no growth, no decay.' 'The Transcendental Being and the being within are one and the same. There is one indivisible Absolute Existence.'"
The Holy Mother secretly went to a Siva temple across the Ganges to intercede with the Deity for the Master's recovery. In a revelation she was told to prepare herself for the inevitable end.
--
Sri Ramakrishna said to him: "Today I have given you my all and I am now only a poor fakir, possessing nothing. By this power you will do immense good in the world, and not until it is accomplished will you return." Henceforth the Master lived in the disciple.
Doubt, however, dies hard. After one or two days Narendra said to himself, "If in the midst of this racking physical pain he declares his Godhead, then only shall I accept him as an Incarnation of God." He was alone by the bedside of the Master. It was a passing thought, but the Master smiled. Gathering his remaining strength, he distinctly said, "He who was Rama and Krishna is now, in this body, Ramakrishna — but not in your Vedantic sense." Narendra was stricken with shame.
--- MAHASAMADHI
0.00 - The Book of Lies Text, #The Book of Lies, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
(c) O.T.O. disk 1 of 1
O.T.O.
--
The number of the book is 333, as implying dis-
persion, so as to correspond with the title, "Breaks"
--
posed of more or less disconnected elements. I refer
to THE BOOK OF LIES. In this there are 93 chapters:
--
I could disclose it...in a short paragraph, I might
do so without doing much harm. For it cannot be used
--
my inclinations. In the midst of my disgust, the
spirit came over me, and I scribbled the chapter
--
over, I was as discontented as before, but I stuck it
into the book in a sort of anger at myself as a
--
dissolution is the Bliss of the Many.
The All, thus interwoven of These, is Bliss.
--
Fatherhood is unity disguised as duality.
Peace implies war.
--
Mind is a disease of semen.
All that a man is or may be is hidden therein.
--
unless in dis-ease.
But mind, never at ease, creaketh "I".
--
How infinite is the distance form This to That! Yet
All is Here and Now. Nor is there any there or Then;
--
But those disciples nearest to him wept, seeing the
Universal Sorrow.
--
Below these certain disciples wept.
Then certain laughed.
--
with Amrita, and in the last paragraph the disciple is
charged to let it have its own way. It has a will of its
--
The Master urges his disciples to a certain holy
stealth, a concealment of the real purpose of their lives;
--
a course of action hardly distinguishable from hypocrisy;
but the distinction is obvious to any clear thinker,
though not altogether so the Frater P.
--
even so is consciousness a disorder of life.
Dreams are without proportion, without good
--
who frequently employs it in his holy discourse.
NOTE
--
one, O chosen of IT, to apprehend the discourse
of THE MASTER; for thus thy reason shall at
--
Consciousness is a symptom of disease.
All that moves well moves without will.
--
How then distinguish the inglorious and perfect
HIMOG from the inglorious man of earth?
distinguish not!
But thyself Ex-tinguish: HIMOG art thou, and
--
question arises as to the distinguishing between illusions;
how are we to tell whether a Holy Illuminated Man of
--
(or so much He disclosed to the Exempt Adepts),
referred to in Liber LXI. It is he who is responsible
--
to certain disaster. Authority from him is exhibited,
when necessary, to the proper persons, though in no
--
to express his discontent. Hence such absurdities as
"Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite", "In God we trust", and
--
discriminately, to serve his ends. Slaves consider him
immoral, an preach against him in Hyde Park.
--
necessary even to discuss, whether the distinction of
their art is the cause, result, or concomitant of their
--
to regard Yoga, two odes upon a distant prospect of the
Temple of Madura, two Elegies on a mat of Kusha-
--
Bitters, to brighten the flavour of a discourse which
were else too sweet. It prevents one from slopping over
--
"you" and "I", and discuss their relative reality.
The things which really exist, the things which have
--
I cannot work: I cannot think: I seek distraction
here: I seek distraction there: but this is all my
truth, that I who love have lost; and how may I
--
Malkuth"; and, to the Ipsissimus, dissolution in the
body of Nuit and a visit to a brothel may be identical.
--
non distributia medii. It is possible that considerations
with Sir Wm. Hamilton's qualification (or quantifica-
--
discover the most formidable secret of that degree con-
cealed in the paragraph.
--
distinguished from its misinterpretation by modern
crapulence. The priests of the gods were carefully
--
I Pay-Pe, the dissolution of the House of God-
for Pe comes after O-after Ayin that triumphs
--
represents the final dissolution in Shivadarshana.
I Hebrew, the letter which follows O is P; i therefore follows Ayin, the Devi
--
completion of the Yoni by the Lingam, which is followed by the complete dissolu
tion
--
to the subject already discussed in Chapters 3 and
others, particularly Chapter 56.
--
I was discussing oysters with a crony:
GOD sent to me the angels DIN and DONI.
--
Thus the disciples that watched found a dead body
kneeling at the altar. Amen!
--
the obscene and distorted character of much of the
universe is a whim of the Creator.
--
At first sight the prose of this chapter, though there is only one dissyllabl
e in
--
and effect. Thence, to discover the cause behind all
causes. Success in this practice qualifies for the grade
--
disheartens modern thinkers, as a good enough reason for
existence.
--
discipline less than Loyola's-in short, any man
who falls far short of MYSELF-I am against
--
I distrust any thoughts uttered by any man whose
health is not robust.
All other thoughts are surely symptoms of disease.
Yet these are often beautiful, and may be true within
--
dis-ease?
We are Strassburg geese; the tastiness of our talk
comes from the disorder of our bodies.
We like it; this only proves that our tastes also are
depraved and debauched by our disease.
[180]
--
There is a dish of sharks' fins and of sea-slug, well set
in birds' nests...oh!
--
on receipt of a shilling. To every sender he dispatched
a post-card with these words: "Do as I do."
--
The "Heikle" is to be distinguished from the
"Huckle", which latter is defined in the late Sir W.S.
0.00 - THE GOSPEL PREFACE, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
By Mahendranath Gupta ("M"), His disciple
Translated from the Bengali by Swami Nikhilananda
--
But, all doctrinal writing is in some measure formal and impersonal, while the autobiographer tends to omit what he regards as trifling matters and suffers from the further disadvantage of being unable to say how he strikes other people and in what way he affects their lives. Moreover, most saints have left neither writings nor self-portraits, and for knowledge of their lives, their characters and their teachings, we are forced to rely upon the records made by their disciples who, in most cases, have proved themselves singularly incompetent as reporters and biographers. Hence the special interest attaching to this enormously detailed account of the daily life and conversations of Sri Ramakrishna.
"M", as the author modestly styles himself, was peculiarly qualified for his task. To a reverent love for his master, to a deep and experiential knowledge of that master's teaching, he added a prodigious memory for the small happenings of each day and a happy gift for recording them in an interesting and realistic way. Making good use of his natural gifts and of the circumstances in which he found himself, "M" produced a book unique, so far as my knowledge goes, in the literature of hagiography. No other saint has had so able and indefatigable a Boswell. Never have the small events of a contemplative's daily life been described with such a wealth of intimate detail. Never have the casual and unstudied utterances of a great religious teacher been set down with so minute a fidelity. To Western readers, it is true, this fidelity and this wealth of detail are sometimes a trifle disconcerting; for the social, religious and intellectual frames of reference within which Sri Ramakrishna did his thinking and expressed his feelings were entirely Indian. But after the first few surprises and bewilderments, we begin to find something peculiarly stimulating and instructive about the very strangeness and, to our eyes, the eccentricity of the man revealed to us in "M's" narrative. What a scholastic philosopher would call the "accidents" of Ramakrishna's life were intensely Hindu and therefore, so far as we in the West are concerned, unfamiliar and hard to understand; its "essence", however, was intensely mystical and therefore universal. To read through these conversations in which mystical doctrine alternates with an unfamiliar kind of humour, and where discussions of the oddest aspects of Hindu mythology give place to the most profound and subtle utterances about the nature of Ultimate Reality, is in itself a liberal, education in humility, tolerance and suspense of judgment. We must be grateful to the translator for his excellent version of a book so curious and delightful as a biographical document, so precious, at the same time, for what it teaches us of the life of the spirit.
--------------------
--
The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna is the English translation of the Sri Sri Rmakrishna Kathmrita, the conversations of Sri Ramakrishna with his disciples, devotees, and visitors, recorded by Mahendranth Gupta, who wrote the book under the pseudonym of "M." The conversations in Bengali fill five volumes, the first of which was published in 1897 and the last shortly after M.'s death in 1932. Sri Ramakrishna Math, Madras, has published in two volumes an English translation of selected chapters from the monumental Bengali work. I have consulted these while preparing my translation.
M., one of the intimate disciples of Sri Ramakrishna, was present during all the conversations recorded in the main body of the book and noted them down in his diary.
They therefore have the value of almost stenographic records. In Appendix A are given several conversations which took place in the absence of M., but of which he received a first-hand record from persons concerned. The conversations will bring before the reader's mind an intimate picture of the Master's eventful life from March 1882 to April 24, 1886, only a few months before his passing away. During this period he came in contact chiefly with English-educated Benglis; from among them he selected his disciples and the bearers of his message, and with them he shared his rich spiritual experiences.
I have made a literal translation, omitting only a few pages of no particular interest to English-speaking readers. Often literary grace has been sacrificed for the sake of literal translation. No translation can do full justice to the original. This difficulty is all the more felt in the present work, whose contents are of a deep mystical nature and describe the inner experiences of a great seer. Human language is an altogether inadequate vehicle to express supersensuous perception. Sri Ramakrishna was almost illiterate. He never clothed his thoughts in formal language. His words sought to convey his direct realization of Truth. His conversation was in a village patois. Therein lies its charm. In order to explain to his listeners an abstruse philosophy, he, like Christ before him, used with telling effect homely parables and illustrations, culled from his observation of the daily life around him.
--
The life and teachings of Sri Ramakrishna have redirected the thoughts of the denationalized Hindus to the spiritual ideals of their forefa thers. During the latter part of the nineteenth century his was the time-honoured role of the Saviour of the Eternal Religion of the Hindus. His teachings played an important part in liberalizing the minds of orthodox pundits and hermits. Even now he is the silent force that is moulding the spiritual destiny of India. His great disciple, Swami Vivekananda, was the first Hindu missionary to preach the message of Indian culture to the enlightened minds of Europe and America. The full consequence of Swami Vivekn and work is still in the womb of the future.
May this translation of the first book of its kind in the religious history of the world, being the record of the direct words of a prophet, help stricken humanity to come nearer to the Eternal Verity of life and remove dissension and quarrel from among the different faiths!
May it enable seekers of Truth to grasp the subtle laws of the supersensuous realm, and unfold before man's restricted vision the spiritual foundation of the universe, the unity of existence, and the divinity of the soul!
--
He was an educationist all his life both in a spiritual and in a secular sense. After he passed out of College, he took up work as headmaster in a number of schools in succession Narail High School, City School, Ripon College School, Metropolitan School, Aryan School, Oriental School, Oriental Seminary and Model School. The causes of his migration from school to school were that he could not get on with some of the managements on grounds of principles and that often his spiritual mood drew him away to places of pilgrimage for long periods. He worked with some of the most noted public men of the time like Iswar Chandra Vidysgar and Surendranath Banerjee. The latter appointed him as a professor in the City and Ripon Colleges where he taught subjects like English, philosophy, history and economics. In his later days he took over the Morton School, and he spent his time in the staircase room of the third floor of it, administering the school and preaching the message of the Master. He was much respected in educational circles where he was usually referred to as Rector Mahashay. A teacher who had worked under him writes thus in warm appreciation of his teaching methods: "Only when I worked with him in school could I appreciate what a great educationist he was. He would come down to the level of his students when teaching, though he himself was so learned, so talented. Ordinarily teachers confine their instruction to what is given in books without much thought as to whether the student can accept it or not. But M., would first of all gauge how much the student could take in and by what means. He would employ aids to teaching like maps, pictures and diagrams, so that his students could learn by seeing. Thirty years ago (from 1953) when the question of imparting education through the medium of the mother tongue was being discussed, M. had already employed Bengali as the medium of instruction in the Morton School." (M The Apostle and the Evangelist by Swami Nityatmananda Part I. P. 15.)
Imparting secular education was, however, only his profession ; his main concern was with the spiritual regeneration of man a calling for which Destiny seems to have chosen him. From his childhood he was deeply pious, and he used to be moved very much by Sdhus, temples and Durga Puja celebrations. The piety and eloquence of the great Brahmo leader of the times, Keshab Chander Sen, elicited a powerful response from the impressionable mind of Mahendra Nath, as it did in the case of many an idealistic young man of Calcutta, and prepared him to receive the great Light that was to dawn on him with the coming of Sri Ramakrishna into his life.
This epoch-making event of his life came about in a very strange way. M. belonged to a joint family with several collateral members. Some ten years after he began his career as an educationist, bitter quarrels broke out among the members of the family, driving the sensitive M. to despair and utter despondency. He lost all interest in life and left home one night to go into the wide world with the idea of ending his life. At dead of night he took rest in his sister's house at Baranagar, and in the morning, accompanied by a nephew Siddheswar, he wandered from one garden to another in Calcutta until Siddheswar brought him to the Temple Garden of Dakshineswar where Sri Ramakrishna was then living. After spending some time in the beautiful rose gardens there, he was directed to the room of the Paramahamsa, where the eventful meeting of the Master and the disciple took place on a blessed evening (the exact date is not on record) on a Sunday in March 1882. As regards what took place on the occasion, the reader is referred to the opening section of the first chapter of the Gospel.
The Master, who divined the mood of desperation in M, his resolve to take leave of this 'play-field of deception', put new faith and hope into him by his gracious words of assurance: "God forbid! Why should you take leave of this world? Do you not feel blessed by discovering your Guru? By His grace, what is beyond all imagination or dreams can be easily achieved!" At these words the clouds of despair moved away from the horizon of M.'s mind, and the sunshine of a new hope revealed to him fresh vistas of meaning in life. Referring to this phase of his life, M. used to say, "Behold! where is the resolve to end life, and where, the discovery of God! That is, sorrow should be looked upon as a friend of man. God is all good." ( Ibid P.33.)
After this re-settlement, M's life revolved around the Master, though he continued his professional work as an educationist. During all holidays, including Sundays, he spent his time at Dakshineswar in the Master's company, and at times extended his stay to several days.
It did not take much time for M. to become very intimate with the Master, or for the Master to recognise in this disciple a divinely commissioned partner in the fulfilment of his spiritual mission. When M. was reading out the Chaitanya Bhagavata, the Master discovered that he had been, in a previous birth, a disciple and companion of the great Vaishnava Teacher, Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, and the Master even saw him 'with his naked eye' participating in the ecstatic mass-singing of the Lord's name under the leadership of that Divine personality. So the Master told M, "You are my own, of the same substance as the father and the son," indicating thereby that M. was one of the chosen few and a part and parcel of his Divine mission.
There was an urge in M. to abandon the household life and become a Sannysin. When he communicated this idea to the Master, he forbade him saying," Mother has told me that you have to do a little of Her work you will have to teach Bhagavata, the word of God to humanity. The Mother keeps a Bhagavata Pandit with a bondage in the world!"
--
Sri Ramakrishna was a teacher for both the Orders of mankind, Sannysins and householders. His own life offered an ideal example for both, and he left behind disciples who followed the highest traditions he had set in respect of both these ways of life. M., along with Nag Mahashay, exemplified how a householder can rise to the highest level of sagehood. M. was married to Nikunja Devi, a distant relative of Keshab Chander Sen, even when he was reading at College, and he had four children, two sons and two daughters. The responsibility of the family, no doubt, made him dependent on his professional income, but the great devotee that he was, he never compromised with ideals and principles for this reason. Once when he was working as the headmaster in a school managed by the great Vidysgar, the results of the school at the public examination happened to be rather poor, and Vidysgar attri buted it to M's preoccupation with the Master and his consequent failure to attend adequately to the school work. M. at once resigned his post without any thought of the morrow. Within a fortnight the family was in poverty, and M. was one day pacing up and down the verandah of his house, musing how he would feed his children the next day. Just then a man came with a letter addressed to 'Mahendra Babu', and on opening it, M. found that it was a letter from his friend Sri Surendra Nath Banerjee, asking whether he would like to take up a professorship in the Ripon College. In this way three or four times he gave up the job that gave him the wherewithal to support the family, either for upholding principles or for practising spiritual Sadhanas in holy places, without any consideration of the possible dire worldly consequences; but he was always able to get over these difficulties somehow, and the interests of his family never suffered. In spite of his disregard for worldly goods, he was, towards the latter part of his life, in a fairly flourishing condition as the proprietor of the Morton School which he developed into a noted educational institution in the city. The Lord has said in the Bhagavad Git that in the case of those who think of nothing except Him, He Himself would take up all their material and spiritual responsibilities. M. was an example of the truth of the Lord's promise.
Though his children received proper attention from him, his real family, both during the Master's lifetime and after, consisted of saints, devotees, Sannysins and spiritual aspirants. His life exemplifies the Master's teaching that an ideal householder must be like a good maidservant of a family, loving and caring properly for the children of the house, but knowing always that her real home and children are elsewhere. During the Master's lifetime he spent all his Sundays and other holidays with him and his devotees, and besides listening to the holy talks and devotional music, practised meditation both on the Personal and the Impersonal aspects of God under the direct guidance of the Master. In the pages of the Gospel the reader gets a picture of M.'s spiritual relationship with the Master how from a hazy belief in the Impersonal God of the Brahmos, he was step by step brought to accept both Personality and Impersonality as the two aspects of the same Non-dual Being, how he was convinced of the manifestation of that Being as Gods, Goddesses and as Incarnations, and how he was established in a life that was both of a Jnni and of a Bhakta. This Jnni-Bhakta outlook and way of living became so dominant a feature of his life that Swami Raghavananda, who was very closely associated with him during his last six years, remarks: "Among those who lived with M. in latter days, some felt that he always lived in this constant and conscious union with God even with open eyes (i.e., even in waking consciousness)." (Swami Raghavananda's article on M. in Prabuddha Bharata vol. XXXVII. P. 442.)
Besides undergoing spiritual disciplines at the feet of the Master, M. used to go to holy places during the Master's lifetime itself and afterwards too as a part of his Sdhan.
He was one of the earliest of the disciples to visit Kamarpukur, the birthplace of the Master, in the latter's lifetime itself; for he wished to practise contemplation on the Master's early life in its true original setting. His experience there is described as follows by Swami Nityatmananda: "By the grace of the Master, he saw the entire Kamarpukur as a holy place bathed in an effulgent Light. Trees and creepers, beasts and birds and men all were made of effulgence. So he prostrated to all on the road. He saw a torn cat, which appeared to him luminous with the Light of Consciousness. Immediately he fell to the ground and saluted it" (M The Apostle and the Evangelist by Swami Nityatmananda vol. I. P. 40.) He had similar experience in Dakshineswar also. At the instance of the Master he also visited Puri, and in the words of Swami Nityatmananda, "with indomitable courage, M. embraced the image of Jagannath out of season."
The life of Sdhan and holy association that he started on at the feet of the Master, he continued all through his life. He has for this reason been most appropriately described as a Grihastha-Sannysi (householder-Sannysin). Though he was forbidden by the Master to become a Sannysin, his reverence for the Sannysa ideal was whole-hearted and was without any reservation. So after Sri Ramakrishna's passing away, while several of the Master's householder devotees considered the young Sannysin disciples of the Master as inexperienced and inconsequential, M. stood by them with the firm faith that the Master's life and message were going to be perpetuated only through them. Swami Vivekananda wrote from America in a letter to the inmates of the Math: "When Sri Thkur (Master) left the body, every one gave us up as a few unripe urchins. But M. and a few others did not leave us in the lurch. We cannot repay our debt to them." (Swami Raghavananda's article on M. in Prabuddha Bharata vol. XXX P. 442.)
M. spent his weekends and holidays with the monastic brethren who, after the Master's demise, had formed themselves into an Order with a Math at Baranagore, and participated in the intense life of devotion and meditation that they followed. At other times he would retire to Dakshineswar or some garden in the city and spend several days in spiritual practice taking simple self-cooked food. In order to feel that he was one with all mankind he often used to go out of his home at dead of night, and like a wandering Sannysin, sleep with the waifs on some open verandah or footpath on the road.
--
In addition to this instinct for diary-keeping, M. had great endowments contri buting to success in this line. Writes Swami Nityatmananda who lived in close association with M., in his book entitled M - The Apostle and Evangelist: "M.'s prodigious memory combined with his extraordinary power of imagination completely annihilated the distance of time and place for him. Even after the lapse of half a century he could always visualise vividly, scenes from the life of Sri Ramakrishna. Superb too was his power to portray pictures by words."
Besides the prompting of his inherent instinct, the main inducement for M. to keep this diary of his experiences at Dakshineswar was his desire to provide himself with a means for living in holy company at all times. Being a school teacher, he could be with the Master only on Sundays and other holidays, and it was on his diary that he depended for 'holy company' on other days. The devotional scriptures like the Bhagavata say that holy company is the first and most important means for the generation and growth of devotion. For, in such company man could hear talks on spiritual matters and listen to the glorification of Divine attri butes, charged with the fervour and conviction emanating from the hearts of great lovers of God. Such company is therefore the one certain means through which Sraddha (Faith), Rati (attachment to God) and Bhakti (loving devotion) are generated. The diary of his visits to Dakshineswar provided M. with material for re-living, through reading and contemplation, the holy company he had had earlier, even on days when he was not able to visit Dakshineswar. The wealth of details and the vivid description of men and things in the midst of which the sublime conversations are set, provide excellent material to re-live those experiences for any one with imaginative powers. It was observed by M.'s disciples and admirers that in later life also whenever he was free or alone, he would be pouring over his diary, transporting himself on the wings of imagination to the glorious days he spent at the feet of the Master.
During the Master's lifetime M. does not seem to have revealed the contents of his diary to any one. There is an unconfirmed tradition that when the Master saw him taking notes, he expressed apprehension at the possibility of his utilising these to publicise him like Keshab Sen; for the Great Master was so full of the spirit of renunciation and humility that he disliked being lionised. It must be for this reason that no one knew about this precious diary of M. for a decade until he brought out selections from it as a pamphlet in English in 1897 with the Holy Mother's blessings and permission. The Holy Mother, being very much pleased to hear parts of the diary read to her in Bengali, wrote to M.: "When I heard the Kathmrita, (Bengali name of the book) I felt as if it was he, the Master, who was saying all that." ( Ibid Part I. P 37.)
The two pamphlets in English entitled the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna appeared in October and November 1897. They drew the spontaneous acclamation of Swami Vivekananda, who wrote on 24th November of that year from Dehra Dun to M.:"Many many thanks for your second leaflet. It is indeed wonderful. The move is quite original, and never was the life of a Great Teacher brought before the public untarnished by the writer's mind, as you are doing. The language also is beyond all praise, so fresh, so pointed, and withal so plain and easy. I cannot express in adequate terms how I have enjoyed them. I am really in a transport when I read them. Strange, isn't it? Our Teacher and Lord was so original, and each one of us will have to be original or nothing.
--
It looks as if M. was brought to the world by the Great Master to record his words and transmit them to posterity. Swami Sivananda, a direct disciple of the Master and the second President of the Ramakrishna Math and Mission, says on this topic: "Whenever there was an interesting talk, the Master would call Master Mahashay if he was not in the room, and then draw his attention to the holy words spoken. We did not know then why the Master did so. Now we can realise that this action of the Master had an important significance, for it was reserved for Master Mahashay to give to the world at large the sayings of the Master." ( Vednta Kesari Vol. XIX P 141.) Thanks to M., we get, unlike in the case of the great teachers of the past, a faithful record with date, time, exact report of conversations, description of concerned men and places, references to contemporary events and personalities and a hundred other details for the last four years of the Master's life (1882-'86), so that no one can doubt the historicity of the Master and his teachings at any time in the future.
M. was, in every respect, a true missionary of Sri Ramakrishna right from his first acquaintance with him in 1882. As a school teacher, it was a practice with him to direct to the Master such of his students as had a true spiritual disposition. Though himself prohibited by the Master to take to monastic life, he encouraged all spiritually inclined young men he came across in his later life to join the monastic Order. Swami Vijnanananda, a direct Sannysin disciple of the Master and a President of the Ramakrishna Order, once remarked to M.: "By enquiry, I have come to the conclusion that eighty percent and more of the Sannysins have embraced the monastic life after reading the Kathmrita (Bengali name of the book) and coming in contact with you." ( M
The Apostle and the Evangelist by Swami Nityatmananda Part I, P 37.)
--
Though a very well versed scholar in the Upanishads, Git and the philosophies of the East and the West, all his discussions and teachings found their culmination in the life and the message of Sri Ramakrishna, in which he found the real explanation and illustration of all the scriptures. Both consciously and unconsciously, he was the teacher of the Kathmrita the nectarine words of the Great Master.
Though a much-sought-after spiritual guide, an educationist of repute, and a contemporary and close associate of illustrious personages like Sri Ramakrishna, Swami Vivekananda, Keshab Chander Sen and Iswar Chander Vidysgar, he was always moved by the noble humanity of a lover of God, which consists in respecting the personalities of all as receptacles of the Divine Spirit. So he taught without the consciousness of a teacher, and no bar of superiority stood in the way of his doing the humblest service to his students and devotees. "He was a commission of love," writes his close devotee, Swami Raghavananda, "and yet his soft and sweet words would pierce the stoniest heart, make the worldly-minded weep and repent and turn Godwards."
--
As time went on and the number of devotees increased, the staircase room and terrace of the 3rd floor of the Morton Institution became a veritable Naimisaranya of modern times, resounding during all hours of the day, and sometimes of night, too, with the word of God coming from the Rishi-like face of M. addressed to the eager God-seekers sitting around. To the devotees who helped him in preparing the text of the Gospel, he would dictate the conversations of the Master in a meditative mood, referring now and then to his diary. At times in the stillness of midnight he would awaken a nearby devotee and tell him: "Let us listen to the words of the Master in the depths of the night as he explains the truth of the Pranava." ( Vednta Kesari XIX P. 142.) Swami Raghavananda, an intimate devotee of M., writes as follows about these devotional sittings: "In the sweet and warm months of April and May, sitting under the canopy of heaven on the roof-garden of 50 Amherst Street, surrounded by shrubs and plants, himself sitting in their midst like a Rishi of old, the stars and planets in their courses beckoning us to things infinite and sublime, he would speak to us of the mysteries of God and His love and of the yearning that would rise in the human heart to solve the Eternal Riddle, as exemplified in the life of his Master. The mind, melting under the influence of his soft sweet words of light, would almost transcend the frontiers of limited existence and dare to peep into the infinite. He himself would take the influence of the setting and say,'What a blessed privilege it is to sit in such a setting (pointing to the starry heavens), in the company of the devotees discoursing on God and His love!' These unforgettable scenes will long remain imprinted on the minds of his hearers." (Prabuddha Bharata Vol XXXVII P 497.)
About twenty-seven years of his life he spent in this way in the heart of the great city of Calcutta, radiating the Master's thoughts and ideals to countless devotees who flocked to him, and to still larger numbers who read his Kathmrita (English Edition : The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna), the last part of which he had completed before June 1932 and given to the press. And miraculously, as it were, his end also came immediately after he had completed his life's mission. About three months earlier he had come to stay at his home at 13/2 Gurdasprasad Chaudhuary Lane at Thakur Bari, where the Holy Mother had herself installed the Master and where His regular worship was being conducted for the previous 40 years. The night of 3rd June being the Phalahrini Kli Pooja day, M.
0.00 - The Wellspring of Reality, #Synergetics - Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking, #R Buckminster Fuller, #Science
We are in an age that assumes the narrowing trends of specialization to be logical, natural, and desirable. Consequently, society expects all earnestly responsible communication to be crisply brief. Advancing science has now discovered that all the known cases of biological extinction have been caused by overspecialization, whose concentration of only selected genes sacrifices general adaptability. Thus the specialist's brief for pinpointing brevity is dubious. In the meantime, humanity has been deprived of comprehensive understanding. Specialization has bred feelings of isolation, futility, and confusion in individuals. It has also resulted in the individual's leaving responsibility for thinking and social action to others.
Specialization breeds biases that ultimately aggregate as international and ideological discord, which, in turn, leads to war.
We are not seeking a license to ramble wordily. We are intent only upon being adequately concise. General systems science discloses the existence of minimum sets of variable factors that uniquely govern each and every system. Lack of knowledge concerning all the factors and the failure to include them in our integral imposes false conclusions. Let us not make the error of inadequacy in examining our most comprehensive inventory of experience and thoughts regarding the evoluting affairs of all humanity.
There is an inherently minimum set of essential concepts and current information, cognizance of which could lead to our operating our planet Earth to the lasting satisfaction and health of all humanity. With this objective, we set out on our review of the spectrum of significant experiences and seek therein for the greatest meanings as well as for the family of generalized principles governing the realization of their optimum significance to humanity aboard our Sun circling planet Earth.
--
As Korzybski, the founder of general semantics, pointed out, the consequence of its single-tagging is that the rose becomes reflexively considered by man only as a red, white, or pink device for paying tribute to a beautiful girl, a thoughtful hostess, or last night's deceased acquaintance. The tagging of the complex biological process under the single title rose tends to detour human curiosity from further differentiation of its integral organic operations as well as from consideration of its interecological functionings aboard our planet. We don't know what a rose is, nor what may be its essential and unique cosmic function. Thus for long have we inadvertently deferred potential discovery of the essential roles in Universe that are performed complementarily by many, if not most, of the phenomena we experience.
But, goaded by youth, we older ones are now taking second looks at almost everything. And that promises many ultimately favorable surprises. The oldsters do have vast experience banks not available to the youth. Their memory banks, integrated and reviewed, may readily disclose generalized principles of eminent importance.
The word generalization in literature usually means covering too much territory too thinly to be persuasive, let alone convincing. In science, however, a generalization means a principle that has been found to hold true in every special case.
The principle of leverage is a scientific generalization. It makes no difference of what material either the fulcrum or the lever consists-wood, steel, or reinforced concrete. Nor do the special-case sizes of the lever and fulcrum, or of the load pried at one end, or the work applied at the lever's other end in any way alter either the principle or the mathematical regularity of the ratios of physical work advantage that are provided at progressive fulcrum-to-load increments of distance outward from the fulcrum in the opposite direction along the lever's arm at which theoperating effort is applied.
Mind is the weightless and uniquely human faculty that surveys the ever larger inventory of special-case experiences stored in the brain bank and, seeking to identify their intercomplementary significance, from time to time discovers one of the rare scientifically generalizable principles running consistently through all the relevant experience set. The thoughts that discover these principles are weightless and tentative and may also be eternal. They suggest eternity but do not prove it, even though there have been no experiences thus far that imply exceptions to their persistence. It seems also to follow that the more experiences we have, the more chances there are that the mind may discover, on the one hand, additional generalized principles or, on the other hand, exceptions that disqualify one or another of the already catalogued principles that, having heretofore held "true" without contradiction for a long time, had been tentatively conceded to be demonstrating eternal persistence of behavior. Mind's relentless reviewing of the comprehensive brain bank's storage of all our special-case experiences tends both to progressive enlargement and definitive refinement of the catalogue of generalized principles that interaccommodatively govern all transactions of Universe.
It follows that the more specialized society becomes, the less attention does it pay to the discoveries of the mind, which are intuitively beamed toward the brain, there to be received only if the switches are "on." Specialization tends to shut off the wide-band tuning searches and thus to preclude further discovery of the all-powerful generalized principles. Again we see how society's perverse fixation on specialization leads to its extinction. We are so specialized that one man discovers empirically how to release the energy of the atom, while another, unbeknownst to him, is ordered by his political factotum to make an atomic bomb by use of the secretly and anonymously published data. That gives much expedient employment, which solves the politician's momentary problem, but requires that the politicians keep on preparing for further warring with other political states to keep their respective peoples employed. It is also mistakenly assumed that employment is the only means by which humans can earn the right to live, for politicians have yet to discover how much wealth is available for distribution. All this is rationalized on the now scientifically discredited premise that there can never be enough life support for all. Thus humanity's specialization leads only toward warring and such devastating tools, both, visible and invisible, as ultimately to destroy all Earthians.
Only a comprehensive switch from the narrowing specialization and toward an evermore inclusive and refining comprehension by all humanity-regarding all the factors governing omnicontinuing life aboard our spaceship Earth-can bring about reorientation from the self-extinction-bound human trending, and do so within the critical time remaining before we have passed the point of chemical process irretrievability.
--
While it takes but meager search to discover that many well-known concepts are false, it takes considerable search and even more careful examination of one's own personal experiences and inadvertently spontaneous reflexing to discover that there are many popularly and even professionally unknown, yet nonetheless fundamental, concepts to hold true in all cases and that already have been discovered by other as yet obscure individuals. That is to say that many scientific generalizations have been discovered but have not come to the attention of what we call the educated world at large, thereafter to be incorporated tardily within the formal education processes, and even more tardily, in the ongoing political-economic affairs of everyday life. Knowledge of the existence and comprehensive significance of these as yet popularly unrecognized natural laws often is requisite to the solution of many of the as yet unsolved problems now confronting society. Lack of knowledge of the solution's existence often leaves humanity confounded when it need not be.
Intellectually advantaged with no more than the child's facile, lucid eagerness to understand constructively and usefully the major transformational events of our own times, it probably is synergetically advantageous to review swiftly the most comprehensive inventory of the most powerful human environment transforming events of our totally known and reasonably extended history. This is especially useful in winnowing out and understanding the most significant of the metaphysical revolutions now recognized as swiftly tending to reconstitute history. By such a comprehensively schematic review, we might identify also the unprecedented and possibly heretofore overlooked pivotal revolutionary events not only of today but also of those trending to be central to tomorrow's most cataclysmic changes.
--
There could be produced a synergetic understanding of humanity's cosmic functioning, which, until now, had been both un discovered and unpredictable due to our deliberate and exclusive preoccupation only with the separate statistics of separate events. As a typical consequence of the latter, we observe our society's persistent increase of educational and employment specialization despite the already mentioned, well-documented scientific disclosure that the extinctions of biological species are always occasioned by overspecialization. Specialization's preoccupation with parts deliberately forfeits the opportunity to apprehend and comprehend what is provided exclusively by synergy.
Today's news consists of aggregates of fragments. Anyone who has taken part in any event that has subsequently appeared in the news is aware of the gross disparity between the actual and the reported events. The insistence by reporters upon having advance "releases" of what, for instance, convocation speakers are supposedly going to say but in fact have not yet said, automatically discredits the value of the largely prefabricated news. We also learn frequently of prefabricated and prevaricated events of a complex nature purportedly undertaken for purposes either of suppressing or rigging the news, which in turn perverts humanity's tactical information resources. All history becomes suspect. Probably our most polluted resource is the tactical information to which humanity spontaneously reflexes.
Furthermore, today's hyperspecialization in socioeconomic functioning has come to preclude important popular philosophic considerations of the synergetic significance of, for instance, such historically important events as the discovery within the general region of experimental inquiry known as virology that the as-yet popularly assumed validity of the concepts of animate and inanimate phenomena have been experimentally invalidated. Atoms and crystal complexes of atoms were held to be obviously inanimate; the protoplasmic cells of biological phenomena were held to be obviously animate. It was deemed to be common sense that warm- blooded, moist, and soft-skinned humans were clearly not to be confused with hard, cold granite or steel objects. A clear-cut threshold between animate and inanimate was therefore assumed to exist as a fundamental dichotomy of all physical phenomena. This seemingly placed life exclusively within the bounds of the physical.
The supposed location of the threshold between animate and inanimate was methodically narrowed down by experimental science until it was confined specifically within the domain of virology. Virologists have been too busy, for instance, with their DNA-RNA genetic code isolatings, to find time to see the synergetic significance to society of the fact that they have found that no physical threshold does in fact exist between animate and inanimate. The possibility of its existence vanished because the supposedly unique physical qualities of both animate and inanimate have persisted right across yesterday's supposed threshold in both directions to permeate one another's-previously perceived to be exclusive- domains. Subsequently, what was animate has become foggier and foggier, and what is inanimate clearer and clearer. All organisms consist physically and in entirety of inherently inanimate atoms. The inanimate alone is not only omnipresent but is alone experimentally demonstrable. Belated news of the elimination of this threshold must be interpreted to mean that whatever life may be, it has not been isolated and thereby identified as residual in the biological cell, as had been supposed by the false assumption that there was a separate physical phenomenoncalled animate within which life existed. No life per se has been isolated. The threshold between animate and inanimate has vanished. Those chemists who are preoccupied in synthesizing the particular atomically structured molecules identified as the prime constituents of humanly employed organisms will, even if they are chemically successful, be as remote from creating life as are automobile manufacturers from creating the human drivers of their automobiles. Only the physical connections and development complexes of distinctly "nonlife" atoms into molecules, into cells, into animals, has been and will be discovered. The genetic coding of the design controls of organic systems offers no more explanation of life than did the specifications of the designs of the telephone system's apparatus and operation explain the nature of the life that communicates weightlessly to life over the only physically ponderable telephone system. Whatever else life may be, we know it is weightless. At the moment of death, no weight is lost. All the chemicals, including the chemist's life ingredients, are present, but life has vanished. The physical is inherently entropic, giving off energy in ever more disorderly ways. The metaphysical is antientropic, methodically marshalling energy. Life is antientropic.
It is spontaneously inquisitive. It sorts out and endeavors to understand.
The overconcentration on details of hyperspecialization has also been responsible for the lack of recognition by science of its inherently mandatory responsibility to reorient all our educational curricula because of the synergetically disclosed, but popularly uncomprehended, significance of the 1956 Nobel Prize-winning discovery in physics of the experimental invalidation of the concept of "parity" by which science previously had misassumed that positive-negative complementations consisted exclusively of mirror-imaged behaviors of physical phenomena.
Science's self-assumed responsibility has been self-limited to disclosure to society only of the separate, supposedly physical (because separately weighable) atomic component isolations data. Synergetic integrity would require the scientists to announce that in reality what had been identified heretofore as physical is entirely metaphysical-because synergetically weightless. Metaphysical has been science's designation for all weightless phenomena such as thought. But science has made no experimental finding of any phenomena that can be described as a solid, or as continuous, or as a straight surface plane, or as a straight line, or as infinite anything. We are now synergetically forced to conclude that all phenomena are metaphysical; wherefore, as many have long suspected-like it or not-life is but a dream.Science has found no up or down directions of Universe, yet scientists are personally so ill-coordinated that they all still personally and sensorially see "solids" going up or down-as, for instance, they see the Sun "going down." Sensorially disconnected from their theoretically evolved information, scientists discern no need on their part to suggest any educational reforms to correct the misconceiving that science has tolerated for half a millennium.
Society depends upon its scientists for just such educational reform guidance.
--
And whence will come the wealth with which we may undertake to lead world man into his new and validly hopeful life? From the wealth of the minds of world man-whence comes all wealth. Only mind can discover how to do so much with so little as forever to be able to sustain and physically satisfy all humanity.
0.01f - FOREWARD, #The Phenomenon of Man, #Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, #Christianity
realise that as the result of their discoveries, they are caught body
and soul to the network of relationships they thought to cast
--
the way things are distributed objectively, and perception reaches
its apogee. The landscape lights up and yields its secrets. He sees.
--
the newly-opened retina. For man to discover man and take his
measure, a whole series of ' senses ' have been necessary, whose
--
A sense of spatial immensity, in greatness and smallness, dis-
articulating and spacing out, within a sphere of indefinite radius,
--
series and measureless distances of time, which a sort of sluggish-
ness of mind tends continually to condense for us in a thin layer
--
A sense of number, discovering and grasping unflinchingly
the bewildering multitude of material or living elements involved
--
A sense of quality, or of novelty, enabling us to distinguish in
nature certain absolute stages of perfection and growth, without
--
A sense, lastly, of the organic, discovering physical links and
structural unity under the superficial juxtaposition of successions
0.01 - I - Sri Aurobindos personality, his outer retirement - outside contacts after 1910 - spiritual personalities- Vibhutis and Avatars - transformtion of human personality, #Evening Talks With Sri Aurobindo, #unset, #Zen
The Evening Talks collected here may afford to the outside world a glimpse of his external personality and give the seeker some idea of its richness, its many-sidedness, its uniqueness. One can also form some notion of Sri Aurobindo's personality from the books in which the height, the universal sweep and clear vision of his integral ideal and thought can be seen. His writings are, in a sense, the best representative of his mental personality. The versatile nature of his genius, the penetrating power of his intellect, his extraordinary power of expression, his intense sincerity, his utter singleness of purpose all these can be easily felt by any earnest student of his works. He may discover even in the realm of mind that Sri Aurobindo brings the unlimited into the limited. Another side of his dynamic personality is represented by the Ashram as an institution. But the outer, if one may use the phrase, the human side of his personality, is unknown to the outside world because from 1910 to 1950 a span of forty years he led a life of outer retirement. No doubt, many knew about his staying at Pondicherry and practising some kind of very special Yoga to the mystery of which they had no access. To some, perhaps, he was living a life of enviable solitude enjoying the luxury of a spiritual endeavour. Many regretted his retirement as a great loss to the world because they could not see any external activity on his part which could be regarded as 'public', 'altruistic' or 'beneficial'. Even some of his admirers thought that he was after some kind of personal salvation which would have very little significance for mankind in general. His outward non-participation in public life was construed by many as lack of love for humanity.
But those who knew him during the days of the national awakening from 1900 to 1910 could not have these doubts. And even these initial misunderstandings and false notions of others began to evaporate with the growth of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram from 1927 onwards. The large number of books published by the Ashram also tended to remove the idea of the other-worldliness of his Yoga and the absence of any good by it to mankind.
--
Twice he found it necessary to go out of his way to make public pronouncements on important world-issues, which shows distinctly that renunciation of life is not a part of his Yoga. "The first was in relation to the Second World War. At the beginning he did not actively concern himself with it, but when it appeared as if Hitler would crush all the forces opposed to him and Nazism dominate the world, he began to intervene."[2]
The second was with regard to Sir Stafford Cripps' proposal for the transfer of power to India.
--
"The Avatar comes to reveal the divine nature in man above this lower nature and to show what are the divine works, free, unegoistic, disinterested, impersonal, universal, full of the divine light, the divine power and the divine love. He comes as the divine personality which shall fill the consciousness of the human being and replace the limited egoistic personality, so that it shall be liberated out of ego into infinity and universality, out of birth into immortality."[7]
It is clear that Sri Aurobindo interpreted the traditional idea of the Vibhuti and the Avatar in terms of the evolutionary possibilities of man. But more directly he has worked out the idea of the 'gnostic individual' in his masterpiece The Life Divine. He says: "A supramental gnostic individual will be a spiritual Person, but not a personality in the sense of a pattern of being marked out by a settled combination of fixed qualities, a determined character; he cannot be that since he is a conscious expression of the universal and the transcendent." Describing the gnostic individual he says: "We feel ourselves in the presence of a light of consciousness, a potency, a sea of energy, can distinguish and describe its free waves of action and quality, but not fix itself; and yet there is an impression of personality, the presence of a powerful being, a strong, high or beautiful recognisable Someone, a Person, not a limited creature of Nature but a Self or Soul, a Purusha."[8]
One feels that he was describing the feeling of some of us, his disciples, with regard to him in his inimitable way.
This transformation of the human personality into the Divine perhaps even the mere connection of the human with the Divine is probably regarded as a chimera by the modern mind. To the modern mind it would appear as the apotheosis of a human personality which is against its idea of equality of men. Its difficulty is partly due to the notion that the Divine is unlimited and illimitable while a 'personality', however high and grand, seems to demand imposition, or assumption, of limitation. In this connection Sri Aurobindo said during an evening talk that no human manifestation can be illimitable and unlimited, but the manifestation in the limited should reflect the unlimited, the Transcendent Beyond.
0.01 - Letters from the Mother to Her Son, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Aurobindo and myself, as well as five of the closest disciples.
We have joined the houses together with openings in some
--
(Sri Aurobindo's disciples living in Pondicherry) varies between
eighty-five and a hundred. Five cars, twelve bicycles, four sewing
--
world: disorder, confusion, wastage and misery.
Series One - To Her Son
--
is free to organise his life as he pleases, the discipline is reduced
to the minimum that is in dispensable to organise the existence
--
about disastrous results. The earth seems to be shaken almost
entirely by a terrible fit of political and social epilepsy through
--
makes us see all the details. From a distance the details fade and
only the principal lines appear, giving a slightly more logical
--
been changed to "The Supreme discovery".4 Rather pompous
for my taste, but...
--
Speaking of recent events, you ask me "whether it was a dangerous bluff" or whether we "narrowly escaped disaster". To
assume both at the same time would be nearer to the truth.
--
few conscious instruments at their disposal. It is true that in
this matter quality compensates by far for quantity. As for the
0.01 - Life and Yoga, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
Rajayoga, for instance, depends on this perception and experience that our inner elements, combinations, functions, forces, can be separated or dissolved, can be new-combined and set to novel and formerly impossible workings or can be transformed and resolved into a new general synthesis by fixed internal processes. Hathayoga similarly depends on this perception and experience that the vital forces and functions to which our life is normally subjected and whose ordinary operations seem set and in dispensable, can be mastered and the operations changed or suspended with results that would otherwise be impossible and that seem miraculous to those who have not seized the rationale of their process. And if in some other of its forms this character of Yoga is less apparent, because they are more intuitive and less mechanical, nearer, like the Yoga of Devotion, to a supernal ecstasy or, like the Yoga of Knowledge, to a supernal infinity of consciousness and being, yet they too start from the use of some principal faculty in us by ways and for ends not contemplated in its everyday spontaneous workings. All methods grouped under the common name of Yoga are special psychological processes founded on a fixed truth of Nature and developing, out of normal functions, powers and results which were always latent but which her ordinary movements do not easily or do not often manifest.
But as in physical knowledge the multiplication of scientific processes has its disadvantages, as that tends, for instance, to develop a victorious artificiality which overwhelms our natural human life under a load of machinery and to purchase certain forms of freedom and mastery at the price of an increased servitude, so the preoccupation with Yogic processes and their exceptional results may have its disadvantages and losses. The
The Conditions of the Synthesis
0.02 - II - The Home of the Guru, #Evening Talks With Sri Aurobindo, #unset, #Zen
The Master, the Guru, set at rest the puzzled human mind by his illuminating answers, perhaps even more by his silent consciousness, so that it might be able to pursue unhampered the path of realisation of the Truth. Those ancient discourses answer the mind of man today even across the ages. They have rightly acquired as everything of the past does a certain sanctity. But sometimes that very reverence prevents men from properly evaluating, and living in, the present. This happens when the mind instead of seeking the Spirit looks at the form. For instance, it is not necessary for such discourses that they take place in forest-groves in order to be highly spiritual. Wherever the Master is, there is Light. And guru-griha the house of the Master can be his private dwelling place. So much was this feeling a part of Sri Aurobindo's nature and so particular was he to maintain the personal character of his work that during the first few years after 1923 he did not like his house to be called an 'Ashram', as the word had acquired the sense of a public institution to the modern mind. But there was no doubt that the flower of Divinity had blossomed in him; and disciples, like bees seeking honey, came to him. It is no exaggeration to say that these Evening Talks were to the small company of disciples what the Aranyakas were to the ancient seekers. Seeking the Light, they came to the dwelling place of their Guru, the greatest seer of the age, and found it their spiritual home the home of their parents, for the Mother, his companion in the great mission, had come. And these spiritual parents bestowed upon the disciples freely of their Light, their Consciousness, their Power and their Grace. The modern reader may find that the form of these discourses differs from those of the past but it was bound to be so for the simple reason that the times have changed and the problems that puzzle the modern mind are so different. Even though the disciples may be very imperfect representations of what he aimed at in them, still they are his creations. It is in order to repay, in however infinitesimal a degree, the debt which we owe to him that the effort is made to partake of the joy of his company the Evening Talks with a larger public.
***
0.02 - Letters to a Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I ask you to discard all obstinacy and to be perfectly sincere.
Go and see with no preconceived idea.
--
believes to be needs - he will be disillusioned. He prefers
not to mention them rather than to be disillusioned.
Yes, so long as there are desires, no true intimacy can be
--
Oh! Let all tears be wiped away, all suffering relieved, all anguish dispelled, and let a calm serenity dwell
in every heart.
--
O Thou who relievest all suffering and dispersest all
ignorance, O Thou the supreme healer, have pity on me.
--
in disgust, or that Sri Aurobindo will write two pages
asking me to quit the Ashram or at least to stop work
--
after week. I like better to count largely and not to be disappointed.
Mother, what is the proper attitude? If I hear suggestion
--
found, with some discomfort, that not a single one is closing
properly. Unless you are a Hercules and a wrestler you have no
--
I still cannot make a clear distinction between a
desire and a need for the work. So this is the method I
--
the tape is not in dispensable. But there is a dissatisfaction
somewhere in my being. I can't pinpoint this recalcitrant
--
I earnestly hope that Mother will not disgrace me by giving
me one, for it would cover me with shame and embarrassment.
--
to be made) and they develop without harmony, in disorder and
confusion, sometimes producing the most unfortunate results as
--
up. But Y expressed his dissatisfaction when he saw the
shelves.
--
Mr. Z: I have heard that Sri Aurobindo can communicate at a distance. Is it true?
Sadhak: That is nothing. He isn't interested in occult
--
shall discuss the matter quietly. When will you learn not to lose
courage and confidence at the slightest setback, when things are
--
to dismiss? And according to your answers the difficulty seemed
insurmountable.
--
Before displaying the notice you will speak to the workers
(masons, carpenters, painters, coolies, etc.) whom you positively
--
of distempering X's rooms arose, I looked very carefully several
times with the inner eye and I saw this: brush the walls with a
--
with a thick layer of distemper which by its very thickness will be
enough to conceal any irregularities. The process was supposed
--
long ago - the first time it was decided to distemper the walls
of X's apartment, perhaps more than a year ago.) My formation
--
X sent me a mason with a dismissal note this morning. Later, I learnt from X that the mason had laughed
when X told him he was not satisfied with the work he
--
One really cannot dismiss a man because he laughed. He should
be given some other work and advised to be polite in the future.
--
until all the rest of the world disappears and the object alone
exists; then, by a slight movement of will, one can succeed at
--
one distinguish between these two types of suggestions?
It is only by long experience, tested many times very carefully,
that one can discriminate between various types of suggestions
by the vibration that accompanies them.
--
wanted to disturb my mind. I don't know where it came
Series Two - To a Sadhak in the Building Department
--
Perhaps Sweet Mother is displeased with me about something? I have no peace.
I am not at all displeased. But what a strange idea to let yourself
be upset by such little things! What about the Yoga?
--
recently done something to displease him, but I can't find
anything. Please tell me if I have done something wrong.
--
I had dreamed that X and I would discuss both the
work in hand and the work to be done and exchange
--
I am sorry to say that X keeps me at a distance and
remains aloof, and when he does speak I find him rather
--
The disease: a narrow and egoistic ambition in the mind expressing itself as a strong vanity in the vital, thus distorting your
ideas of things and your reactions.
--
may disappear for ever.
With my blessings.
0.02 - The Three Steps of Nature, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
But in order that we may be wisely guided in our effort, we must know, first, the general principle and purpose underlying this separative impulse and, next, the particular utilities upon which the method of each school of Yoga is founded. For the general principle we must interrogate the universal workings of Nature herself, recognising in her no merely specious and illusive activity of a distorting Maya, but the cosmic energy and working of God Himself in His universal being formulating and inspired by a vast, an infinite and yet a minutely selective
Wisdom, prajna prasr.ta puran. of the Upanishad, Wisdom that went forth from the Eternal since the beginning. For the particular utilities we must cast a penetrative eye on the different methods of Yoga and distinguish among the mass of their details the governing idea which they serve and the radical force which gives birth and energy to their processes of effectuation.
Afterwards we may more easily find the one common principle and the one common power from which all derive their being and tendency, towards which all subconsciously move and in which, therefore, it is possible for all consciously to unite.
--
displayed, if not constantly, then occasionally or with some regularity of recurrence, in primary formations or in others more developed and, it may well be, even in some, however rare, that are near to the highest possible realisation of our present humanity. For the march of Nature is not drilled to a regular and mechanical forward stepping. She reaches constantly beyond herself even at the cost of subsequent deplorable retreats.
She has rushes; she has splendid and mighty outbursts; she has immense realisations. She storms sometimes passionately forward hoping to take the kingdom of heaven by violence.
--
If the bodily life is what Nature has firmly evolved for us as her base and first instrument, it is our mental life that she is evolving as her immediate next aim and superior instrument. This in her ordinary exaltations is the lofty preoccupying thought in her; this, except in her periods of exhaustion and recoil into a reposeful and recuperating obscurity, is her constant pursuit wherever she can get free from the trammels of her first vital and physical realisations. For here in man we have a distinction which is of the utmost importance. He has in him not a single mentality, but a double and a triple, the mind material and nervous, the pure intellectual mind which liberates itself from the illusions of the body and the senses, and a divine mind above intellect which in its turn liberates itself from the imperfect modes of the logically discriminative and imaginative reason. Mind in man is first emmeshed in the life of the body, where in the plant it is entirely involved and in animals always imprisoned. It accepts this life as not only the first but the whole condition of its activities and serves its needs as if they were the entire aim of existence. But the bodily life in man is a base, not the aim, his first condition and not his last determinant. In the just idea of the ancients man is essentially the thinker, the Manu, the mental being who leads the life and the body,3 not the animal who is led by them. The true human existence, therefore, only begins when the intellectual mentality emerges out of the material and we begin more and more to live in the mind independent of the nervous and physical obsession and in the measure of that liberty are able to accept rightly and rightly to use the life of the body. For freedom and not a skilful subjection is the true means of mastery. A free, not a compulsory acceptance of the conditions, the enlarged and sublimated conditions of our physical being, is the high human ideal. But beyond this intellectual mentality is the divine.
The mental life thus evolving in man is not, indeed, a
--
Certainly, the mental life is not a finished evolution of Nature; it is not yet firmly founded in the human animal. The sign is that the fine and full equilibrium of vitality and matter, the sane, robust, long-lived human body is ordinarily found only in races or classes of men who reject the effort of thought, its disturbances, its tensions, or think only with the material mind.
Civilised man has yet to establish an equilibrium between the fully active mind and the body; he does not normally possess it.
Indeed, the increasing effort towards a more intense mental life seems to create, frequently, an increasing disequilibrium of the human elements, so that it is possible for eminent scientists to describe genius as a form of insanity, a result of degeneration, a pathological morbidity of Nature. The phenomena which are used to justify this exaggeration, when taken not separately, but in connection with all other relevant data, point to a different truth. Genius is one attempt of the universal Energy to so quicken and intensify our intellectual powers that they shall be prepared for those more puissant, direct and rapid faculties which constitute the play of the supra-intellectual or divine mind. It is not, then, a freak, an inexplicable phenomenon, but a perfectly natural next step in the right line of her evolution.
She has harmonised the bodily life with the material mind, she is harmonising it with the play of the intellectual mentality; for that, although it tends to a depression of the full animal and vital vigour, need not produce active disturbances. And she is shooting yet beyond in the attempt to reach a still higher level.
Nor are the disturbances created by her process as great as is often represented. Some of them are the crude beginnings of new manifestations; others are an easily corrected movement of disintegration, often fruitful of fresh activities and always a small price to pay for the far-reaching results that she has in view.
We may perhaps, if we consider all the circumstances, come
--
to this conclusion that mental life, far from being a recent appearance in man, is the swift repetition in him of a previous achievement from which the Energy in the race had undergone one of her deplorable recoils. The savage is perhaps not so much the first forefa ther of civilised man as the degenerate descendant of a previous civilisation. For if the actuality of intellectual achievement is unevenly distributed, the capacity is spread everywhere. It has been seen that in individual cases even the racial type considered by us the lowest, the negro fresh from the perennial barbarism of Central Africa, is capable, without admixture of blood, without waiting for future generations, of the intellectual culture, if not yet of the intellectual accomplishment of the dominant European. Even in the mass men seem to need, in favourable circumstances, only a few generations to cover ground that ought apparently to be measured in the terms of millenniums. Either, then, man by his privilege as a mental being is exempt from the full burden of the tardy laws of evolution or else he already represents and with helpful conditions and in the right stimulating atmosphere can always display a high level of material capacity for the activities of the intellectual life.
It is not mental incapacity, but the long rejection or seclusion from opportunity and withdrawal of the awakening impulse that creates the savage. Barbarism is an intermediate sleep, not an original darkness.
0.03 - III - The Evening Sittings, #Evening Talks With Sri Aurobindo, #unset, #Zen
When Sri Aurobindo and the Mother moved to No. 9 Rue de la Marine in 1922 the same routine of informal evening sittings after meditation continued. I came to Pondicherry for Sadhana in the beginning of 1923. I kept notes of the important talks I had with the four or five disciples who were already there. Besides, I used to take detailed notes of the Evening Talks which we all had with the Master. They were not intended by him to be noted down. I took them down because of the importance I felt about everything connected with him, no matter how insignificant to the outer view. I also felt that everything he did would acquire for those who would come to know his mission a very great significance.
As years passed the evening sittings went on changing their time and often those disciples who came from outside for a temporary stay for Sadhana were allowed to join them. And, as the number of sadhaks practising the Yoga increased, the evening sittings also became more full, and the small verandah upstairs in the main building was found insufficient. Members of the household would gather every day at the fixed time with some sense of expectancy and start chatting in low tones. Sri Aurobindo used to come last and it was after his coming that the session would really commence.
He came dressed as usual in dhoti, part of which was used by him to cover the upper part of his body. Very rarely he came out with chaddar or shawl and then it was "in deference to the climate" as he sometimes put it. At times for minutes he would be gazing at the sky from a small opening at the top of the grass-curtains that covered the verandah upstairs in No. 9, Rue de la Marine. How much were these sittings dependent on him may be gathered from the fact that there were days when more than three-fourths of the time passed in complete silence without any outer suggestion from him, or there was only an abrupt "Yes" or "No" to all attempts at drawing him out in conversation. And even when he participated in the talk one always felt that his voice was that of one who does not let his whole being flow into his words; there was a reserve and what was left unsaid was perhaps more than what was spoken. What was spoken was what he felt necessary to speak.
Very often some news-item in the daily newspaper, town-gossip, or some interesting letter received either by him or by a disciple, or a question from one of the gathering, occasionally some remark or query from himself would set the ball rolling for the talk. The whole thing was so informal that one could never predict the turn the conversation would take. The whole house therefore was in a mood to enjoy the freshness and the delight of meeting the unexpected. There were peals of laughter and light talk, jokes and criticism which might be called personal, there was seriousness and earnestness in abundance.
These sittings, in fact, furnished Sri Aurobindo with an occasion to admit and feel the outer atmosphere and that of the group living with him. It brought to him the much-needed direct contact of the mental and vital make-up of the disciples, enabling him to act on the atmosphere in general and on the individual in particular. He could thus help to remould their mental make-up by removing the limitations of their minds and opinions, and correct temperamental tendencies and formations. Thus, these sittings contributed at least partly to the creation of an atmosphere amenable to the working of the Higher Consciousness. Far more important than the actual talk and its content was the personal contact, the influence of the Master, and the divine atmosphere he emanated; for through his outer personality it was the Divine Consciousness that he allowed to act. All along behind the outer manifestation that appeared human, there was the influence and presence of the Divine.
What was talked in the small group informally was not intended by Sri Aurobindo to be the independent expression of his views on the subjects, events or the persons discussed. Very often what he said was in answer to the spiritual need of the individual or of the collective atmosphere. It was like a spiritual remedy meant to produce certain spiritual results, not a philosophical or metaphysical pronouncement on questions, events or movements. The net result of some talks very often was to point out to the disciple the inherent incapacity of the human intellect and its secondary place in the search for the ultimate Reality.
But there were occasions when he did give his independent, personal views on some problems, on events or other subjects. Even then it was never an authoritarian pronouncement. Most often it appeared to be a logically worked out and almost inevitable conclusion expressed quite impersonally though with firm and sincere conviction. This impersonality was such a prominent trait of his personality! Even in such matters as dispatching a letter or a telegram it would not be a command from him to a disciple to carry out the task. Most often during his usual passage to the dining room he would stop on the way, drop in on the company of four or five disciples and, holding out the letter or the telegram, would say in the most amiable and yet the most impersonal way: "I suppose this has to be sent." And it would be for someone in the group instantly to volunteer and take it. The expression he very often used was "It was done" or "It happened", not "I did."
From 1918 to 1922, we gathered at No. 41, Rue Franois Martin, called the Guest House, upstairs, on a broad verandah into which four rooms opened and whose main piece of furniture was a small table 3' x 1' covered with a blue cotton cloth. That is where Sri Aurobindo used to sit in a hard wooden chair behind the table with a few chairs in front for the visitors or for the disciples.
From 1922 to 1926, No. 9, Rue de la Marine, where he and the Mother had shifted, was the place where the sittings were held. There, also upstairs, was a less broad verandah than at the Guest House, a little bigger table in front of the central door out of three, and a broad Japanese chair, the table covered with a better cloth than the one in the Guest House, a small flower vase, an ash-tray, a block calendar indicating the date and an ordinary time-piece, and a number of chairs in front in a line. The evening sittings used to be after meditation at 4 or 4.30 p.m. After 24 November 1926, the sittings began to get later and later, till the limit of 1 o'clock at night was reached. Then the curtain fell. Sri Aurobindo retired completely after December 1926, and the evening sittings came to a close.
0.03 - Letters to My little smile, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
are troubling you, you will see that they have disappeared and
you will feel free and happy.
--
I don't know when this distracted mind will become
quiet.
--
understand: you are dissatisfied not because I fail to give you all
that you need, but because I give you more, far more than you
--
giving yourself more, and you will see that all discontentment
will disappear.
12 December 1932
--
You in this state of depression and discontent?
But I don't blame You for this; it is me - I don't
--
Be careful, child, do not open the door to depression, discouragement and revolt - this leads far, far away from consciousness and makes you sink into the depths of obscurity
where happiness can no longer enter. Your great strength was
--
other people, you have learned from them to be discontented,
rebellious, depressed, and now you have let your smile slip away,
--
one has done; for at a distance, removed from the action, one
sees more clearly and better understands what ought or ought
--
Once again, do not worry; what should disappear will disappear;
only what is good will remain.
--
Why this discouragement? Each one has his difficulties, yours
are no more insurmountable than those of others. You have only
--
"What should disappear will disappear; only what
is good will remain."
--
revolt, discontent, discouragement and bad temper are
good too. Because they have remained in me, they have
not disappeared. And the smile and working regularly
and having confidence - all of these are bad perhaps.
Because I see that they have disappeared, at least for the
present.
--
so much trouble? It would be better to remain quiet because "what should disappear will disappear; only what
is good will remain. "
--
- I pity you, that's all. Did I tell you that it would disappear
immediately, instantaneously, especially if you yourself are more
--
and discontented that you will be able to do so."
And again You wrote to me (December 7th) in this
--
that are troubling you, you will see that they have disappeared and you will feel free and happy."
So I tell You that even this revolt and this bad temper
--
It is not enough to tell them, you must want them to disappear.
Mother, today I am sad. I don't know why but I even
--
Mother, rid me of this discouragement and this revolt,
please. Will You not save me from them?
--
Psychological diseases are diseases of the thoughts and feelings,
such as depression, revolt, sadness, etc. Physical diseases are
those of the body.
--
When with all my will I am working for the disappearance
of suffering from the world, how could I want, much less like,
--
and dissatisfaction into your heart? Who has taken away at
once your happiness, your simple joy of life and your beautiful
--
Not naughty, poor little one, only a little sad, and that distresses
me, for I would like to see you always full of light and joy.
--
I am disappointed, I cannot do the fishes now.
Series Three - To "My little smile"
--
child may once again say: "I am disappointed, I don't want to
do this sari," and X will have worked for nothing. That is why I
--
thing will disappear. When you are awake, surely you are not
afraid of an approaching thunder-cloud; why should it frighten
--
saris all these days? It is certainly not because I dislike wearing
them - quite the contrary. But they are rather heavy and warm
--
Must go on smiling, smiling still more when the difficulties come. Smiles are like rays of the sun, they dissolve the
clouds... And if you want the radical remedy it lies in this:
0.03 - The Threefold Life, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
Since this is the plan of the divine Energy in humanity, the whole method and aim of our existence must work by the interaction of these three elements in the being. As a result of their separate formulation in Nature, man has open to him a choice between three kinds of life, the ordinary material existence, a life of mental activity and progress and the unchanging spiritual beatitude. But he can, as he progresses, combine these three forms, resolve their discords into a harmonious rhythm and so create in himself the whole godhead, the perfect Man.
In ordinary Nature they have each their own characteristic and governing impulse.
--
But by that very utility such men and the life they lead are condemned to be limited, irrationally conservative and earthbound. The customary routine, the customary institutions, the inherited or habitual forms of thought, - these things are the life-breath of their nostrils. They admit and jealously defend the changes compelled by the progressive mind in the past, but combat with equal zeal the changes that are being made by it in the present. For to the material man the living progressive thinker is an ideologue, dreamer or madman. The old Semites who stoned the living prophets and adored their memories when dead, were the very incarnation of this instinctive and unintelligent principle in Nature. In the ancient Indian distinction between the once born and the twice born, it is to this material man that the former description can be applied. He does Nature's inferior works; he assures the basis for her higher activities; but not to him easily are opened the glories of her second birth.
Yet he admits so much of spirituality as has been enforced on his customary ideas by the great religious outbursts of the past and he makes in his scheme of society a place, venerable though not often effective, for the priest or the learned theologian who can be trusted to provide him with a safe and ordinary spiritual pabulum. But to the man who would assert for himself the liberty of spiritual experience and the spiritual life, he assigns, if he admits him at all, not the vestment of the priest but the robe of the Sannyasin. Outside society let him exercise his dangerous freedom. So he may even serve as a human lightning-rod receiving the electricity of the Spirit and turning it away from the social edifice.
--
Its higher manifestations, even the most splendid and puissant, either merely increase the number of souls drawn out of social life and so impoverish it or disturb the society for a while by a momentary elevation. The truth is that neither the mental effort nor the spiritual impulse can suffice, divorced from each other, to overcome the immense resistance of material Nature.
She demands their alliance in a complete effort before she will suffer a complete change in humanity. But, usually, these two great agents are unwilling to make to each other the necessary concessions.
The mental life concentrates on the aesthetic, the ethical and the intellectual activities. Essential mentality is idealistic and a seeker after perfection. The subtle self, the brilliant Atman,1 is ever a dreamer. A dream of perfect beauty, perfect conduct, perfect Truth, whether seeking new forms of the Eternal or revitalising the old, is the very soul of pure mentality. But it knows not how to deal with the resistance of Matter. There it is hampered and inefficient, works by bungling experiments and has either to withdraw from the struggle or submit to the grey actuality. Or else, by studying the material life and accepting the conditions of the contest, it may succeed, but only in imposing temporarily some artificial system which infinite Nature either rends and casts aside or disfigures out of recognition or by withdrawing her assent leaves as the corpse of a dead ideal. Few and far between have been those realisations of the dreamer in Man which the world has gladly accepted, looks back to with a fond memory and seeks, in its elements, to cherish.
1 Who dwells in Dream, the inly conscious, the enjoyer of abstractions, the Brilliant.
--
This mixing with life may, however, be pursued for the sake of the individual mind and with an entire indifference to the forms of the material existence or the uplifting of the race. This indifference is seen at its highest in the Epicurean discipline and is not entirely absent from the Stoic; and even altruism does the works of compassion more often for its own sake than for the sake of the world it helps. But this too is a limited fulfilment. The progressive mind is seen at its noblest when it strives to elevate the whole race to its own level whether by sowing broadcast the image of its own thought and fulfilment or by changing the material life of the race into fresh forms, religious, intellectual, social or political, intended to represent more nearly that ideal of truth, beauty, justice, righteousness with which the man's own soul is illumined. Failure in such a field matters little; for the mere attempt is dynamic and creative. The struggle of Mind to elevate life is the promise and condition of the conquest of life by that which is higher even than Mind.
That highest thing, the spiritual existence, is concerned with what is eternal but not therefore entirely aloof from the transient. For the spiritual man the mind's dream of perfect beauty is realised in an eternal love, beauty and delight that has no dependence and is equal behind all objective appearances; its dream of perfect Truth in the supreme, self-existent, self-apparent and eternal Verity which never varies, but explains and is the secret of all variations and the goal of all progress; its dream of perfect action in the omnipotent and self-guiding Law that is inherent for ever in all things and translates itself here in the rhythm of the worlds. What is fugitive vision or constant effort of creation in the brilliant Self is an eternally existing Reality in the Self that knows2 and is the Lord.
But if it is often difficult for the mental life to accommodate itself to the dully resistant material activity, how much more difficult must it seem for the spiritual existence to live on in a world that appears full not of the Truth but of every lie and illusion, not of Love and Beauty but of an encompassing discord and ugliness, not of the Law of Truth but of victorious selfishness and sin? Therefore the spiritual life tends easily in the saint and Sannyasin to withdraw from the material existence and reject it either wholly and physically or in the spirit. It sees this world as the kingdom of evil or of ignorance and the eternal and divine either in a far-off heaven or beyond where there is no world and no life. It separates itself inwardly, if not also physically, from the world's impurities; it asserts the spiritual reality in a spotless isolation. This withdrawal renders an invaluable service to the material life itself by forcing it to regard and even to bow down to something that is the direct negation of its own petty ideals, sordid cares and egoistic self-content.
But the work in the world of so supreme a power as spiritual force cannot be thus limited. The spiritual life also can return upon the material and use it as a means of its own greater fullness. Refusing to be blinded by the dualities, the appearances, it can seek in all appearances whatsoever the vision of the same Lord, the same eternal Truth, Beauty, Love, Delight. The
--
But the spiritual life, like the mental, may thus make use of this outward existence for the benefit of the individual with a perfect indifference to any collective uplifting of the merely symbolic world which it uses. Since the Eternal is for ever the same in all things and all things the same to the Eternal, since the exact mode of action and the result are of no importance compared with the working out in oneself of the one great realisation, this spiritual indifference accepts no matter what environment, no matter what action, dispassionately, prepared to retire as soon as its own supreme end is realised. It is so that many have understood the ideal of the Gita. Or else the inner love and bliss may pour itself out on the world in good deeds, in service, in compassion, the inner Truth in the giving of knowledge, without therefore attempting the transformation of a world which must by its inalienable nature remain a battlefield of the dualities, of sin and virtue, of truth and error, of joy and suffering.
But if Progress also is one of the chief terms of worldexistence and a progressive manifestation of the Divine the true sense of Nature, this limitation also is invalid. It is possible for the spiritual life in the world, and it is its real mission, to change the material life into its own image, the image of the Divine. Therefore, besides the great solitaries who have sought and attained their self-liberation, we have the great spiritual teachers who have also liberated others and, supreme of all, the great dynamic souls who, feeling themselves stronger in the might of the Spirit than all the forces of the material life banded together, have thrown themselves upon the world, grappled with it in a loving wrestle and striven to compel its consent to its own transfiguration. Ordinarily, the effort is concentrated on a mental and moral change in humanity, but it may extend itself also to the alteration of the forms of our life and its institutions so that they too may be a better mould for the inpourings of the Spirit. These attempts have been the supreme landmarks in the progressive development of human ideals and the divine preparation of the race. Every one of them, whatever its outward results, has left Earth more capable of Heaven and quickened in its tardy movements the evolutionary Yoga of Nature.
In India, for the last thousand years and more, the spiritual life and the material have existed side by side to the exclusion of the progressive mind. Spirituality has made terms for itself with Matter by renouncing the attempt at general progress. It has obtained from society the right of free spiritual development for all who assume some distinctive symbol, such as the garb of the Sannyasin, the recognition of that life as man's goal and those who live it as worthy of an absolute reverence, and the casting of society itself into such a religious mould that its most customary acts should be accompanied by a formal reminder of the spiritual symbolism of life and its ultimate destination. On the other hand, there was conceded to society the right of inertia and immobile self-conservation. The concession destroyed much of the value of the terms. The religious mould being fixed, the formal reminder tended to become a routine and to lose its living sense. The constant attempts to change the mould by new sects and religions ended only in a new routine or a modification of the old; for the saving element of the free and active mind had been exiled. The material life, handed over to the Ignorance, the purposeless and endless duality, became a leaden and dolorous yoke from which flight was the only escape.
The schools of Indian Yoga lent themselves to the compromise. Individual perfection or liberation was made the aim, seclusion of some kind from the ordinary activities the condition, the renunciation of life the culmination. The teacher gave his knowledge only to a small circle of disciples. Or if a wider movement was attempted, it was still the release of the individual soul that remained the aim. The pact with an immobile society was, for the most part, observed.
The utility of the compromise in the then actual state of the world cannot be doubted. It secured in India a society which lent itself to the preservation and the worship of spirituality, a country apart in which as in a fortress the highest spiritual ideal could maintain itself in its most absolute purity unoverpowered by the siege of the forces around it. But it was a compromise, not an absolute victory. The material life lost the divine impulse to growth, the spiritual preserved by isolation its height and purity, but sacrificed its full power and serviceableness to the world. Therefore, in the divine Providence the country of the Yogins and the Sannyasins has been forced into a strict and imperative contact with the very element it had rejected, the element of the progressive Mind, so that it might recover what was now wanting to it.
0.04 - Letters to a Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
other bullocks so closely). The truth is that they dislike and distrust the present driver, and not without reason. When they were
working under the previous one they were happy and cheerful
--
I think that Chakki work3 is very disgusting for the bullocks;
it brings down their vitality because of that, and makes them
--
was dismissed some two days back, not for the crime
of theft but for some rash dragging of a cart and thus
--
This boy has been dismissed by my orders and will not be
given work in the Ashram.
0.04 - The Systems of Yoga, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
Rajayoga takes a higher flight. It aims at the liberation and perfection not of the bodily, but of the mental being, the control of the emotional and sensational life, the mastery of the whole apparatus of thought and consciousness. It fixes its eyes on the citta, that stuff of mental consciousness in which all these activities arise, and it seeks, even as Hathayoga with its physical material, first to purify and to tranquillise. The normal state of man is a condition of trouble and disorder, a kingdom either at war with itself or badly governed; for the lord, the Purusha, is subjected to his ministers, the faculties, subjected even to his subjects, the instruments of sensation, emotion, action, enjoyment. Swarajya, self-rule, must be substituted for this subjection.
First, therefore, the powers of order must be helped to overcome
--
the powers of disorder. The preliminary movement of Rajayoga is a careful self- discipline by which good habits of mind are substituted for the lawless movements that indulge the lower nervous being. By the practice of truth, by renunciation of all forms of egoistic seeking, by abstention from injury to others, by purity, by constant meditation and inclination to the divine
Purusha who is the true lord of the mental kingdom, a pure, glad, clear state of mind and heart is established.
--
But Rajayoga does not forget that the disabilities of the ordinary mind proceed largely from its subjection to the reactions of the nervous system and the body. It adopts therefore from the Hathayogic system its devices of asana and pran.ayama, but reduces their multiple and elaborate forms in each case to one simplest and most directly effective process sufficient for its own immediate object. Thus it gets rid of the Hathayogic complexity and cumbrousness while it utilises the swift and powerful efficacy of its methods for the control of the body and the vital functions and for the awakening of that internal dynamism, full of a latent supernormal faculty, typified in Yogic terminology by the kun.d.alin, the coiled and sleeping serpent of Energy within. This done, the system proceeds to the perfect quieting of the restless mind and its elevation to a higher plane through concentration of mental force by the successive stages which lead to the utmost inner concentration or ingathered state of the consciousness which is called Samadhi.
By Samadhi, in which the mind acquires the capacity of withdrawing from its limited waking activities into freer and higher states of consciousness, Rajayoga serves a double purpose. It compasses a pure mental action liberated from the confusions of the outer consciousness and passes thence to the higher supra-mental planes on which the individual soul enters into its true spiritual existence. But also it acquires the capacity of that free and concentrated energising of consciousness on
--
The Path of Knowledge aims at the realisation of the unique and supreme Self. It proceeds by the method of intellectual reflection, vicara, to right discrimination, viveka. It observes and distinguishes the different elements of our apparent or phenomenal being and rejecting identification with each of them arrives at their exclusion and separation in one common term as constituents of Prakriti, of phenomenal Nature, creations of
Maya, the phenomenal consciousness. So it is able to arrive at its right identification with the pure and unique Self which is not mutable or perishable, not determinable by any phenomenon or combination of phenomena. From this point the path, as ordinarily followed, leads to the rejection of the phenomenal worlds from the consciousness as an illusion and the final immergence without return of the individual soul in the Supreme.
0.05 - Letters to a Child, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The disturbance still has not disappeared. I am in
a worse state than before. There is something wrong in
--
done any wrong, please excuse me. Are you displeased
with me? Mother, make me yours.
--
not in the least displeased with you. Did I look very serious
tonight? If it is so, it was because I was thinking of the stupidity
--
Do not distress yourself, it is the result of these last few days of
sickness. It will pass - but you must eat well regularly and sleep
--
who loved us very much - my brother and myself - never allowed us to be ill tempered or discontented or lazy. If we went
to complain to her about one thing or another, to tell her that
we were discontented, she would make fun of us or scold us and
say, "What is this nonsense? Don't be ridiculous. Quick! Off
--
grateful to her for having taught me the discipline and the necessity of self-forgetfulness through concentration on what one
is doing.
--
I want a discipline.
This is quite excellent and I approve of it. Without outer and
inner discipline, one can achieve nothing in life, either spiritually
or materially. All those who have been able to create something
--
how to discipline themselves.
Always with you in all love.
--
Purify me. dispel the shadows. I will not revolt any
more.
--
Have I done something that has displeased you?
My head hurts. I feel tired.
You are quite mistaken, I am not at all displeased with you. Only
I am worried because you always have a headache and because
--
healthy. For that, you must follow a physical discipline: sleep
regularly, eat regularly, exercise regularly, etc., etc. And unfortunately you refuse all discipline. This makes my task very
difficult.
--
But with discrimination one can distinguish the bad from
the good influences and reject persistently the bad ones.
--
a long time to disappear. You know, don't you, that our force,
our help and our blessings are always with you?
--
life and all the discipline it entails - in short, the search for and
realisation of the Divine - must be the most important thing to
--
I am telling you all this so that you may not be disappointed
once again after returning here.
--
The more I look into myself, the more discouraged
I am, and I don't know whether there is any chance of
--
when I cannot distinguish truth from falsehood and I
am then on the verge of losing my mind.
--
It is the very first proposition that is wrong, I am not displeased
with you - so all that follows cannot be correct.
--
tell you how it pains me to know that you are displeased
with me on any account.
There is no real cause because there is no discontent. Your pain
is quite gratuitous, so you would [do] better [to] get rid of it
--
part can bear anything except your displeasure. I feel
you are very vexed with me for some reason I cannot
--
I am not vexed, I am not displeased - this impression of yours
is quite false and imaginary - it may be the result of a bad
--
mistakes people commit, it cannot vex me nor displease me. If
there is bad will or revolt, Kali may come and chastise but she
--
are dissolved. I want a new life.
My dear child,
--
that perseverance in study and the acceptance of a discipline of
work and order in life will be a powerful help to you in renewing
--
You are displeased with me, aren't you? I feel so sad.
What can I do? I stumble at every step.
No, my dear little child, I am not displeased - why should I
be? I understand your difficulties and I know your goodwill;
--
come, you should not think that I am displeased, but on the
contrary that I am always with you, supporting you, protecting
--
your heart, dissolve the obstacles.
My dear child,
--
no obstacles - we shall dispel them all.
With all my love.
0.05 - The Synthesis of the Systems, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
Y THE very nature of the principal Yogic schools, each covering in its operations a part of the complex human integer and attempting to bring out its highest possibilities, it will appear that a synthesis of all of them largely conceived and applied might well result in an integral Yoga. But they are so disparate in their tendencies, so highly specialised and elaborated in their forms, so long confirmed in the mutual opposition of their ideas and methods that we do not easily find how we can arrive at their right union.
An un discriminating combination in block would not be a synthesis, but a confusion. Nor would a successive practice of each of them in turn be easy in the short span of our human life and with our limited energies, to say nothing of the waste of labour implied in so cumbrous a process. Sometimes, indeed,
Hathayoga and Rajayoga are thus successively practised. And in a recent unique example, in the life of Ramakrishna Paramhansa, we see a colossal spiritual capacity first driving straight to the divine realisation, taking, as it were, the kingdom of heaven by violence, and then seizing upon one Yogic method after another and extracting the substance out of it with an incredible rapidity, always to return to the heart of the whole matter, the realisation and possession of God by the power of love, by the extension of inborn spirituality into various experience and by the spontaneous play of an intuitive knowledge. Such an example cannot be generalised. Its object also was special and temporal, to exemplify in the great and decisive experience of a master-soul the truth, now most necessary to humanity, towards which a world long divided into jarring sects and schools is with difficulty labouring, that all sects are forms and fragments of a single integral truth and all disciplines labour in their different ways towards one supreme experience. To know, be and possess
The Conditions of the Synthesis
--
Yogic disciplines and seizing rather on some central principle common to all which will include and utilise in the right place and proportion their particular principles, and on some central dynamic force which is the common secret of their divergent methods and capable therefore of organising a natural selection and combination of their varied energies and different utilities.
This was the aim which we set before ourselves at first when we entered upon our comparative examination of the methods of
--
This system is the way of the Tantra. Owing to certain of its developments Tantra has fallen into discredit with those who are not Tantrics; and especially owing to the developments of its left-hand path, the Vama Marga, which not content with exceeding the duality of virtue and sin and instead of replacing them by spontaneous rightness of action seemed, sometimes, to make a method of self-indulgence, a method of unrestrained social immorality. Nevertheless, in its origin, Tantra was a great and puissant system founded upon ideas which were at least partially true. Even its twofold division into the right-hand and left-hand paths, Dakshina Marga and Vama Marga, started from a certain profound perception. In the ancient symbolic sense of the words Dakshina and Vama, it was the distinction between the way of Knowledge and the way of Ananda, - Nature in man liberating itself by right discrimination in power and practice of its own energies, elements and potentialities and Nature in man
The Synthesis of the Systems
--
If, however, we leave aside, here also, the actual methods and practices and seek for the central principle, we find, first, that Tantra expressly differentiates itself from the Vedic methods of Yoga. In a sense, all the schools we have hitherto examined are Vedantic in their principle; their force is in knowledge, their method is knowledge, though it is not always discernment by the intellect, but may be, instead, the knowledge of the heart expressed in love and faith or a knowledge in the will working out through action. In all of them the lord of the Yoga is the Purusha, the Conscious Soul that knows, observes, attracts, governs. But in Tantra it is rather Prakriti, the Nature-Soul, the Energy, the
Will-in-Power executive in the universe. It was by learning and applying the intimate secrets of this Will-in-Power, its method, its Tantra, that the Tantric Yogin pursued the aims of his discipline, - mastery, perfection, liberation, beatitude. Instead of drawing back from manifested Nature and its difficulties, he confronted them, seized and conquered. But in the end, as is the general tendency of Prakriti, Tantric Yoga largely lost its principle in its machinery and became a thing of formulae and occult mechanism still powerful when rightly used but fallen from the clarity of their original intention.
We have in this central Tantric conception one side of the truth, the worship of the Energy, the Shakti, as the sole effective force for all attainment. We get the other extreme in the Vedantic conception of the Shakti as a power of Illusion and in the search after the silent inactive Purusha as the means of liberation from the deceptions created by the active Energy. But in the integral conception the Conscious Soul is the Lord, the Nature-Soul is his executive Energy. Purusha is of the nature of Sat, the being of conscious self-existence pure and infinite; Shakti or Prakriti is of the nature of Chit, - it is power of the Purusha's self-conscious existence, pure and infinite. The relation of the two exists between the poles of rest and action. When the Energy is absorbed
--
- and Yoga is nothing but practical psychology, - is the conception of Nature from which we have to start. It is the selffulfilment of the Purusha through his Energy. But the movement of Nature is twofold, higher and lower, or, as we may choose to term it, divine and undivine. The distinction exists indeed for practical purposes only; for there is nothing that is not divine, and in a larger view it is as meaningless, verbally, as the distinction between natural and supernatural, for all things that are are natural. All things are in Nature and all things are in God.
But, for practical purposes, there is a real distinction. The lower
Nature, that which we know and are and must remain so long as the faith in us is not changed, acts through limitation and division, is of the nature of Ignorance and culminates in the life of the ego; but the higher Nature, that to which we aspire, acts by unification and transcendence of limitation, is of the nature of Knowledge and culminates in the life divine. The passage from the lower to the higher is the aim of Yoga; and this passage
--
Everything in us is seized by the hands of a mighty Artificer and transformed into a clear image of that which it now seeks confusedly to present. In that ever-progressive experience we begin to perceive how this lower manifestation is constituted and that everything in it, however seemingly deformed or petty or vile, is the more or less distorted or imperfect figure of some element or action in the harmony of the divine Nature. We begin to understand what the Vedic Rishis meant when they spoke of the human forefa thers fashioning the gods as a smith forges the crude material in his smithy.
Thirdly, the divine Power in us uses all life as the means of this integral Yoga. Every experience and outer contact with our world-environment, however trifling or however disastrous, is used for the work, and every inner experience, even to the most repellent suffering or the most humiliating fall, becomes a step on the path to perfection. And we recognise in ourselves with opened eyes the method of God in the world, His purpose of light in the obscure, of might in the weak and fallen, of delight in what is grievous and miserable. We see the divine method to be the same in the lower and in the higher working; only in the one it is pursued tardily and obscurely through the subconscious in
Nature, in the other it becomes swift and self-conscious and the instrument confesses the hand of the Master. All life is a Yoga of Nature seeking to manifest God within itself. Yoga marks the stage at which this effort becomes capable of self-awareness and therefore of right completion in the individual. It is a gathering up and concentration of the movements dispersed and loosely combined in the lower evolution.
An integral method and an integral result. First, an integral realisation of Divine Being; not only a realisation of the One in its in distinguishable unity, but also in its multitude of aspects which are also necessary to the complete knowledge of it by
--
As the Jivanmukta, who is entirely free even without dissolution of the bodily life in a final Samadhi.
The Synthesis of the Systems
0.06 - INTRODUCTION, #Dark Night of the Soul, #Saint John of the Cross, #Christianity
with great insight and discernment how it may be recognized whether any given
aridity is a result of this Night or whether it comes from sins or imperfections, or
--
where the soul may abandon discursive meditation and enter the contemplation
which belongs to loving and simple faith.
--
In Chapter x, the Saint describes the discipline which the soul in this Dark
Night must impose upon itself; this, as might be logically deduced from the Ascent,
--
rather than purgation. The reason is that all the imperfections and disorders of the
sensual part have their strength and root in the spirit, where all habits, both good
--
his mystical dissertations find such an outlet as here. Nowhere else, again, is he
quite so appealingly human; for, though he is human even in his loftiest and
0.06 - Letters to a Young Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
One must persist without getting discouraged, and first of all
refuse to recognise the body as one's "self". Indeed, what would
--
Is it strange that one should become disgusted with this
world? The repetition of the same round - that is death
--
do not leave, I pray, any distance between You and me.
I too do not want any distance between us. But the relation must
be a true one, that is, based on union in the divine consciousness.
Open your heart yet wider, yet better, and the distance will
disappear.
--
difficulties suddenly disappeared. Since that day I have
not had any difficulty which could bar my way.
--
soon discover that in the depths of this emptiness is the Divine.
If I find some solace in books, how can I say that nothing sustains me and that I am plunged in the divine life
--
satisfied; from where does this dissatisfaction come?
It is always the vital being which protests and complains. The
--
Indeed, nothing brings more happiness than a pure and disinterested love.
The true divine love is above all quarrels. It is the experience of
--
Perhaps I am mistaken in believing that I shall find myself close to you more rapidly by dissolving my being
than by mixing with many people and doing much work.
--
give yourself entirely and without egoism while washing dishes
or serving a meal brings you much nearer the Divine than
--
Without discipline it is impossible to realise anything on the
physical plane. If your heart were not willing to submit to the
strict discipline of beating regularly and constantly, you would
not be able to live upon earth.
The great realisers have always been the great disciplined
men.
--
Ashram; but those who are without work are certainly so because they do not like to work; and for that disease it is very
difficult to find a remedy - it is called laziness...
--
You would be wrong to get disturbed; nothing is done arbitrarily,
and things get realised only when they are the expression of an
--
But why torment yourself so much? Be calm, don't get disturbed,
remember that the conditions of our life are not quite ordinary
--
themselves in your lower nature, you have only to dislodge them,
calling me to your help.
--
should I not dissociate myself from everyone?
It would be much better to dissociate yourself from the tendency
to fall into your ordinary consciousness.
--
Probably a disastrous result; that is, a passive opening to all
sorts of influences, most of which are hardly commendable.
--
Yes, one must distrust superficial and baseless judgments.
It is just when one is innocent that one ought to be most indifferent to ill-treatment, because there is nothing to blame oneself
--
neck; I am tired of the remedies our dispensary gives me.
I rely on Your Will alone to rid me of this illness.
--
this peace brings, all these little miseries will disappear.
Mother, the inherent tendency of the material body is to
--
stop the natural propensity of my body to disintegration?
It must become aware of the immortality of the elements constituting it (which is a scientifically recognised fact), then it must
0.07 - DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL, #Dark Night of the Soul, #Saint John of the Cross, #Christianity
2. In darkness and secure, By the secret ladder, disguisedoh, happy chance!
In darkness and in concealment, My house being now at rest.
0.07 - Letters to a Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
will soon disappear.
Love and blessings to my dear child.
--
Indeed, that day I had heard you distinctly calling me and I
wanted to answer very concretely to your call... My love and
--
with me. It is the same old thing, but nonetheless distressing. It is civil war, a conflict between two different
tendencies and ideals, a pull from two different types
--
perhaps you are dissatisfied with my disability; possibly
you are getting tired of me altogether. If so, I would not
--
It does not displease me in the least. If I did not answer to
what you wrote about it the other day, it is because I did not
--
clouds - it disperses them.
With my love and blessings.
0.08 - Letters to a Young Captain, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
activity, it disturbs the experience and diminishes its intensity
and force.
--
with the Supreme Lord and dissolve myself completely in Him.
Then my body, completely passive, is nothing but a channel
--
How can one distinguish between good and evil in
a dream?
--
capacity of discrimination as to judge the waking activities.
But since we usually give the name "dream" to a considerable number of activities that differ completely from one another,
the first point is to learn to distinguish between these various
activities - that is, to recognise what part of the being it is that
--
Almost all the occult systems and disciplines aim at the
development and mastery of the overmind.
0.09 - Letters to a Young Teacher, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
assemble, combine, disarrange, rearrange all the words in our
reach, in an attempt to portray this or that visitor who has come
--
it is the ego. With the disappearance of the ego, the desires
disappear.
--
voice which distinguishes between good and evil, encourages us
to do good and forbids us to do evil. This voice is very useful
--
the ego has been dissolved.
12 August 1960
--
or else the end will be a disaster. But how can we know if
the call is really there or not? And as for our soul, would
--
To discover the Transcendent Divine one has to follow the
intellectual discipline, the way of knowledge, and by successive
eliminations arrive at the one sole Truth, the Absolute beyond
--
Whereas with one's heart, one can set out to discover the
Immanent Divine. And if one knows truly how to love, without
--
Ashram, the conditions were a lot stricter and the discipline more rigorous. How and why have these conditions
changed now?
--
should do sadhana, this rigidity had to disappear the moment
the children were introduced into the Ashram.
01.01 - A Yoga of the Art of Life, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Here is the very heart of the mystery, the master-key to the problem. The advent of the superhuman or divine race, however stupendous or miraculous the phenomenon may appear to be, can become a thing of practical actuality, precisely because it is no human agency that has undertaken it but the Divine himself in his supreme potency and wisdom and love. The descent of the Divine into the ordinary human nature in order to purify and transform it and be lodged there is the whole secret of the sadhana in Sri Aurobindo's Yoga. The sadhaka has only to be quiet and silent, calmly aspiring, open and acquiescent and receptive to the one Force; he need not and should not try to do things by his independent personal effort, but get them done or let them be done for him in the dedicated consciousness by the Divine Master and Guide. All other Yogas or spiritual disciplines in the past envisaged an ascent of the consciousness, its sublimation into the consciousness of the Spirit and its fusion and dissolution there in the end. The descent of the Divine Consciousness to prepare its definitive home in the dynamic and pragmatic human nature, if considered at all, was not the main theme of the past efforts and achievements. Furthermore, the descent spoken of here is the descent, not of a divine consciousness for there are many varieties of divine consciousness but of the Divine's own consciousness, of the Divine himself with his Shakti. For it is that that is directly working out this evolutionary transformation of the age.
It is not my purpose here to enter into details as to the exact meaning of the descent, how it happens and what are its lines of activity and the results brought about. For it is indeed an actual descent that happens: the Divine Light leans down first into the mind and begins its purificatory work therealthough it is always the inner heart which first recognises the Divine Presence and gives its assent to the Divine action for the mind, the higher mind that is to say, is the summit of the ordinary human consciousness and receives more easily and readily the Radiances that descend. From the Mind the Light filters into the denser regions of the emotions and desires, of life activity and vital dynamism; finally, it gets into brute Matter itself, the hard and obscure rock of the physical body, for that too has to be illumined and made the very form and figure of the Light supernal. The Divine in his descending Grace is the Master-Architect who is building slowly and surely the many-chambered and many-storeyed edifice that is human nature and human life into the mould of the Divine Truth in its perfect play and supreme expression. But this is a matter which can be closely considered when one is already well within the mystery of the path and has acquired the elementary essentials of an initiate.
Another question that troubles and perplexes the ordinary human mind is as to the time when the thing will be done. Is it now or a millennium hence or at some astronomical distance in future, like the cooling of the sun, as someone has suggested for an analogy. In view of the magnitude of the work one might with reason say that the whole eternity is there before us, and a century or even a millennium should not be grudged to such a labour for it is nothing less than an undoing of untold millenniums in the past and the building of a far-flung futurity. However, as we have said, since it is the Divine's own work and since Yoga means a concentrated and involved process of action, effectuating in a minute what would perhaps take years to accomplish in the natural course, one can expect the work to be done sooner rather than later. Indeed, the ideal is one of here and nowhere upon this earth of material existence and now in this life, in this very bodynot hereafter or elsewhere. How long exactly that will mean, depends on many factors, but a few decades on this side or the other do not matter very much.
As to the extent of realisation, we say again that that is not a matter of primary consideration. It is not the quantity but the substance that counts. Even if it were a small nucleus it would be sufficient, at least for the beginning, provided it is the real, the genuine thing
--
From a certain point of view, from the point of view of essentials and inner realities, it would appear that spirituality is, at least, the basis of the arts, if not the highest art. If art is meant to express the soul of things, and since the true soul of things is the divine element in them, then certainly spirituality, the discipline of coming in conscious contact with the Spirit, the Divine, must be accorded the regal seat in the hierarchy of the arts. Also, spirituality is the greatest and the most difficult of the arts; for it is the art of life. To make of life a perfect work of beauty, pure in its lines, faultless in its rhythm, replete with strength, iridescent: with light, vibrant with delightan embodiment of the Divine, in a wor dis the highest ideal of spirituality; viewed the spirituality that Sri Aurobindo practisesis the ne plus ultra of artistic creation
The Gita, II. 40
01.01 - Sri Aurobindo - The Age of Sri Aurobindo, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Well, the view expressed in these words is not a new revelation. It has been the cry of suffering humanity through the ages. Man has borne his cross since the beginning of his creation through want and privation, through disease and bereavement, through all manner of turmoil and tribulation, and yetmirabile dictuat the same time, in the very midst of those conditions, he has been aspiring and yearning for something else, ignoring the present, looking into the beyond. It is not the prosperous and the more happily placed in life who find it more easy to turn to the higher life, it is not the wealthiest who has the greatest opportunity to pursue a spiritual idea. On the contrary, spiritual leaders have thought and experienced otherwise.
Apart from the well-recognised fact that only in distress does the normal man think of God and non-worldly things, the real matter, however, is that the inner life is a thing apart and follows its own line of movement, does not depend upon, is not subservient to, the kind of outer life that one may happen to live under. The Bible says indeed, "Blessed are the poor, blessed are they that mourn"... But the Upanishad declares, on the other hand, that even as one lies happily on a royal couch, bathes and anoints himself with all the perfumes of the world, has attendants all around and always to serve him, even so, one can be full of the divine consciousness from the crown of the head to the tip of his toe-nail. In fact, a poor or a prosperous life is in no direct or even indirect ratio to a spiritual life. All the miseries and immediate needs of a physical life do not and cannot detain or delay one from following the path of the ideal; nor can all your riches be a burden to your soul and overwhelm it, if it chooses to walk onit can not only walk, but soar and fly with all that knapsack on its back.
If one were to be busy about reforming the world and when that was done then alone to turn to other-worldly things, in that case, one would never take the turn, for the world will never be reformed totally or even considerably in that way. It is not that reformers have for the first time appeared on the earth in the present age. Men have attempted social, political, economic and moral reforms from times immemorial. But that has not barred the spiritual attempt or minimised its importance. To say that because an ideal is apparently too high or too great for the present age, it must be kept in cold storage is to set a premium on the present nature of humanity arid eternise it: that would bind the world to its old moorings and never give it the opportunity to be free and go out into the high seas of larger and greater realisations.
The ideal or perhaps one should say the policy of Real-politick is the thing needed in this world. To achieve something actually in the physical and material field, even a lesser something, is worth much more than speculating on high flaunting chimeras and indulging in day-dreams. Yes, but what is this something that has to be achieved in the material world? It is always an ideal. Even procuring food for each and every person, clothing and housing all is not less an ideal for all its concern about actuality. Only there are ideals and ideals; some are nearer to the earth, some seem to be in the background. But the mystery is that it is not always the ideal nearest to the earth which is the easiest to achieve or the first thing to be done first. Do we not see before our very eye show some very simple innocent social and economic changes are difficult to carry outthey bring in their train quite disproportionately gestures and movements of violence and revolution? That is because we seek to cure the symptoms and not touch the root of the disease. For even the most innocent-looking social, economic or political abuse has at its base far-reaching attitudes and life-urgeseven a spiritual outlook that have to be sought out and tackled first, if the attempt at reform is to be permanently and wholly successful. Even in mundane matters we do not dig deep enough, or rise high enough.
Indeed, looking from a standpoint that views the working of the forces that act and achieve and not the external facts and events and arrangements aloneone finds that things that are achieved on the material plane are first developed and matured and made ready behind the veil and at a given moment burst out and manifest themselves often unexpectedly and suddenly like a chick out of the shell or the young butterfly out of the cocoon. The Gita points to that truth of Nature when it says: "These beings have already been killed by Me." It is not that a long or strenuous physical planning and preparation alone or in the largest measure brings about a physical realisation. The deeper we go within, the farther we are away from the surface, the nearer we come to the roots and sources of things even most superficial. The spiritual view sees and declares that it is the Brahmic consciousness that holds, inspires, builds up Matter, the physical body and form of Brahman.
01.01 - The One Thing Needful, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
It is the lesson of life that always in this world everything fails a man - only the Divine does not fail him, if he turns entirely towards the Divine. It is not because there is something bad in you that blows fall on you - blows fall on all human beings because they are full of desire for things that cannot last and they lose them or, even if they get, it brings disappointment and cannot satisfy them. To turn to the Divine is the only truth in life.
To find the Divine is indeed the first reason for seeking the spiritual Truth and the spiritual life; it is the one thing in dispensable and all the resit is nothing without it. The Divine once found, to manifest Him, - that is, first of all to transform one's own limited consciousness into the Divine Consciousness, to live in the infinite Peace, Light, Love, Strength, Bliss, to become that in one's essential nature and, as a consequence, to be its vessel, channel, instrument in one's active nature. To bring into activity the principle of oneness on the material plane or to work for humanity is a mental mistranslation of the Truth - these things cannot be the first true object of spiritual seeking. We must find the Self, the Divine, then only can we know what is the work the Self or the Divine demands from us. Until then our life and action can only be a help or a means towards finding the Divine and it ought not to have any other purpose. As we grow in inner consciousness, or as the spiritual Truth of the Divine grows in us, our life and action must indeed more and more flow from that, be one with that. But to decide beforeh and by our limited mental conceptions what they must be is to hamper the growth of the spiritual Truth within. As that grows we shall feel the Divine Light and Truth, the Divine Power and Force, the Divine Purity and Peace working within us, dealing with our actions as well as our consciousness, making use of them to reshape us into the Divine Image, removing the dross, substituting the pure Gold of the Spirit. Only when the Divine Presence is there in us always and the consciousness transformed, can we have the right to say that we are ready to manifest the Divine on the material plane. To hold up a mental ideal or principle and impose that on the inner working brings the danger of limiting ourselves to a mental realisation or of impeding or even falsifying by a halfway formation the truth growth into the full communion and union with the Divine and the free and intimate outflowing of His will in our life. This is a mistake of orientation to which the mind of today is especially prone. It is far better to approach the Divine for the Peace or Light or Bliss that the realisation of Him gives than to bring in these minor things which can divert us from the one thing needful. The divinisation of the material life also as well as the inner life is part of what we see as the Divine Plan, but it can only be fulfilled by an ourflowing of the inner realisation, something that grows from within outwards, not by the working out of a mental principle.
01.01 - The Symbol Dawn, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
Insistent, dissatisfied, without an aim,
Something that wished but knew not how to be,
--
Even in this ultimate dissolution's core,
There lurked an unremembering entity,
--
And a blank prescience yearned towards distant change.
As if a childlike finger laid on a cheek
--
And, conquering Nature's disillusioned breast,
Compelled renewed consent to see and feel.
--
And beauty and wonder disturbed the fields of God.
1.21
--
Almost that day the epiphany was disclosed
Of which our thoughts and hopes are signal flares;
--
So now dissolved in bright accustomed air.
1.41
--
The ancient disputants, encircled her
Like giant figures wrestling in the night:
01.02 - Natures Own Yoga, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
For, till now Mind has been the last term of the evolutionary consciousness Mind as developed in man is the highest instrument built up and organised by Nature through which the self-conscious being can express itself. That is why the Buddha said: Mind is the first of all principles, Mind is the highest of all principles: indeed Mind is the constituent of all principlesmana puvvangam dhamm1. The consciousness beyond mind has not yet been made a patent and dynamic element in the life upon earth; it has been glimpsed or entered into in varying degrees and modes by saints and seers; it has cast its derivative illuminations in the creative activities of poets and artists, in the finer and nobler urges of heroes and great men of action. But the utmost that has been achieved, the summit reached in that direction, as exampled in spiritual disciplines, involves a withdrawal from the evolutionary cycle, a merging and an absorption into the static status that is altogether beyond it, that lies, as it were, at the other extreme the Spirit in itself, Atman, Brahman, Sachchidananda, Nirvana, the One without a second, the Zero without a first.
The first contact that one has with this static supra-reality is through the higher ranges of the mind: a direct and closer communion is established through a plane which is just above the mind the Overmind, as Sri Aurobindo calls it. The Overmind dissolves or transcends the ego-consciousness which limits the being to its individualised formation bounded by an outward and narrow frame or sheath of mind, life and body; it reveals the universal Self and Spirit, the cosmic godhead and its myriad forces throwing up myriad forms; the world-existence there appears as a play of ever-shifting veils upon the face of one ineffable reality, as a mysterious cycle of perpetual creation and destructionit is the overwhelming vision given by Sri Krishna to Arjuna in the Gita. At the same time, the initial and most intense experience which this cosmic consciousness brings is the extreme relativity, contingency and transitoriness of the whole flux, and a necessity seems logically and psychologically imperative to escape into the abiding substratum, the ineffable Absoluteness.
This has been the highest consummation, the supreme goal which the purest spiritual experience and the deepest aspiration of the human consciousness generally sought to attain. But in this view, the world or creation or Nature came in the end to be looked upon as fundamentally a product of Ignorance: ignorance and suffering and incapacity and death were declared to be the very hallmark of things terrestrial. The Light that dwells above and beyond can be made to shed for a while some kind of lustre upon the mortal darkness but never altogether to remove or change itto live in the full light, to be in and of the Light means to pass beyond. Not that there have not been other strands and types of spiritual experiences and aspirations, but the one we are considering has always struck the major chord and dominated and drowned all the rest.
--
In the Supermind things exist in their perfect spiritual reality; each is consciously the divine reality in its transcendent essence, its cosmic extension, its, spiritual individuality; the diversity of a manifested existence is there, but the mutually exclusive separativeness has not yet arisen. The ego, the knot of separativity, appears at a later and lower stage of involution; what is here is indivisible nexus of individualising centres of the one eternal truth of being. Where Supermind and Overmind meet, one can see the multiple godheads, each distinct in his own truth and beauty and power and yet all together forming the one supreme consciousness infinitely composite and inalienably integral. But stepping back into Supermind one sees something moreOneness gathering into itself all diversity, not destroying it, but annulling and forbidding the separative consciousness that is the beginning of Ignorance. The first shadow of the Illusory Consciousness, the initial possibility of the movement of Ignorance comes in when the supramental light enters the penumbra of the mental sphere. The movement of Supermind is the movement of light without obscurity, straight, unwavering, unswerving, absolute. The Force here contains and holds in their oneness of Reality the manifold but not separated lines of essential and unalloyed truth: its march is the inevitable progression of each one assured truth entering into and upholding every other and therefore its creation, play or action admits of no trial or stumble or groping or deviation; for each truth rests on all others and on that which harmonises them all and does not act as a Power diverging from and even competing with other Powers of being. In the Overmind commences the play of divergent possibilities the simple, direct, united and absolute certainties of the supramental consciousness retire, as it were, a step behind and begin to work themselves out through the interaction first of separately individualised and then of contrary and contradictory forces. In the Overmind there is a conscious underlying Unity but yet each Power, Truth, Aspect of that Unity is encouraged to work out its possibilities as if it were sufficient to itself and the others are used by it for its own enhancement until in the denser and darker reaches below Overmind this turns out a thing of blind conflict and battle and, as it would appear, of chance survival. Creation or manifestation originally means the concretisation or devolution of the powers of Conscious Being into a play of united diversity; but on the line which ends in Matter it enters into more and more obscure forms and forces and finally the virtual eclipse of the supreme light of the Divine Consciousness. Creation as it descends' towards the Ignorance becomes an involution of the Spirit through Mind and Life into Matter; evolution is a movement backward, a return journey from Matter towards the Spirit: it is the unravelling, the gradual disclosure and deliverance of the Spirit, the ascension and revelation of the involved consciousness through a series of awakeningsMatter awakening into Life, Life awakening into Mind and Mind now seeking to awaken into something beyond the Mind, into a power of conscious Spirit.
The apparent or actual result of the movement of Nescienceof Involutionhas been an increasing negation of the Spirit, but its hidden purpose is ultimately to embody the Spirit in Matter, to express here below in cosmic Time-Space the splendours of the timeless Reality. The material body came into existence bringing with it inevitably, as it seemed, mortality; it appeared even to be fashioned out of mortality, in order that in this very frame and field of mortality, Immortality, the eternal Spirit Consciousness which is the secret truth and reality in Time itself as well as behind it, might be established and that the Divine might be possessed, or rather, possess itself not in one unvarying mode of the static consciousness, as it does even now behind the cosmic play, but in the play itself and in the multiple mode of the terrestrial existence.
--
An organ in the human being has been especially developed to become the effective instrument of this accelerated Yogic process the self-consciousness which I referred to as being the distinctive characteristic of man is a function of this organ. It is his soul, his psychic being; originally it is the spark of the Divine Consciousness which came down and became involved in Matter and has been endeavouring ever since to release itself through the upward march of evolution. It is this which presses on continually as the stimulus to the evolutionary movement; and in man it has attained sufficient growth and power and has come so far to the front from behind the veil that it can now lead and mould his external consciousness. It is also the channel through which the Divine Consciousness can flow down into the inferior levels of human nature. It is the being no bigger than the thumb ever seated within the heart, spoken of in the Upanishads. It is likewise the basis of true individuality and personal identity. It is again the reflection or expression in evolutionary Nature of one's essential selfjivtman that is above, an eternal portion of the Divine, one with the Divine and yet not dissolved and lost in it. The psychic being is thus on the one hand in direct contact with the Divine and the higher consciousness, and on the other it is the secret upholder and controller' (bhart, antarymin) of the inferior consciousness, the hidden nucleus round which the body and the life and the mind of the individual are built up and organised.
The first decisive step in Yoga is taken when one becomes conscious of the psychic being, or, looked at from the other side, when the psychic being comes forward and takes possession of the external being, begins to initiate and influence the movements of the mind and life and body and gradually free them from the ordinary round of ignorant nature. The awakening of the psychic being means, as I have said, not only a deepening and heightening of the consciousness and its release from the obscurity and limitation of the inferior Prakriti, confined to the lower threefold status, into what is behind and beyond; it means also a return of the deeper and higher consciousness upon the lower hemisphere and a consequent purification and illumination and regeneration of the latter. Finally, when the psychic being is in full self-possession and power, it can be the vehicle of the direct supramental consciousness which will then be able to act freely and absolutely for the entire transformation of the external nature, its transfiguration into a perfect body of the Truth-consciousness in a word, its divinisation.
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The Supermind is not merely synthetic. The Supermind is synthetic only on the lowest spaces of itself, where it has to prepare the principles of Overmind,synthesis is necessary only where analysis has taken place, one has dissected everything, put in pieces (analysis), so one has to piece together. But Supermind is unitarian, has never divided up, so it does not need to add and piece together the parts and fragments. It has always held the conscious Many together in the conscious One.
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01.02 - Sri Aurobindo - Ahana and Other Poems, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
To humanise the Divine, that is what we all wish to do; for the Divine is too lofty for us and we cannot look full into his face. We cry and supplicate to Rudra, "O dire Lord, show us that other form of thine that is benign and humane". All earthly imageries we lavish upon the Divine so that he may appear to us not as something far and distant and foreign, but, quite near, among us, as one of us. We take recourse to human symbolism often, because we wish to palliate or hide the rigours of a supreme experience, not because we have no adequate terms for it. The same human or earthly terms could be used differently if we had a different consciousness. Thus the Vedic Rishis sought not to humanise the Divine, their purpose was rather to divinise the human. And their allegorical language, although rich in terrestrial figures, does not carry the impress and atmosphere of mere humanity and earthliness. For in reality the symbol is not merely the symbol. It is mere symbol in regard to the truth so long as we take our stand on the lower plane when we have to look at the truth through the symbol; but if we view it from the higher plane, from truth itself, it is no longer mere symbol but the very truth bodied forth. Whatever there is of symbolism on earth and its beauties, in sense and its enjoyments, is then transfigured into the expression of the truth, of the divinity itself. We then no longer speak in human language but in the language of the gods.
We have been speaking of philosophy and the philosophic manner. But what are the exact implications of the words, let us ask again. They mean nothing more and nothing lessthan the force of thought and the mass of thought content. After all, that seems to be almost the whole difference between the past and the present human consciousness in so far at least as it has found expression in poetry. That element, we wish to point out, is precisely what the old-world poets lacked or did not care to possess or express or stress. A poet meant above all, if not all in all, emotion, passion, sensuousness, sensibility, nervous enthusiasm and imagination and fancy: remember the classic definition given by Shakespeare of the poet
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it cannot be said that Aurobindo shows any organic adaptation to music and melody. His thought is profound; his technical devices are commendable; but the music that enchants or disturbs is not there. Aurobindo is not another Tagore or Iqbal, or even Sarojini Naidu."The Times Literary Supplement, July 8, 1944.
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01.02 - The Creative Soul, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
But this is not as it should be, nor is it the truth of the matter. Every individual soul, however placed it may be, is by nature creative; every individual being lives to discover and to create.
The inmost reality of man is not a passive receptacle, a mere responsive medium but it is a dynamoa power-station generating and throwing out energy that produces and creates.
01.02 - The Issue, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
She must disrupt, dislodge by her soul's force
Her past, a block on the Immortal's road,
--
Death stays the journeying discoverer, Life.
4.24
01.02 - The Object of the Integral Yoga, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
This Yoga demands a total dedication of the life to the aspiration for the discovery and embodiment of the Divine Truth and to nothing else whatever. To divide your life between the Divine and some outward aim and activity that has nothing to do with the search for the Truth is inadmissible. The least thing of that kind would make success in the Yoga impossible.
You must go inside yourself and enter into a complete dedication to the spiritual life. All clinging to mental preferences must fall away from you, all insistence on vital aims and interests and attachments must be put away, all egoistic clinging to family, friends, country must disappear if you want to succeed in Yoga. Whatever has to come as outgoing energy or action, must proceed from the Truth once discovered and not from the lower mental or vital motives, from the Divine Will and not from personal choice or the preferences of the ego.
01.03 - Mystic Poetry, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
I would like to make a distinction between mystic poetry and spiritual poetry. To equate mysticism and spirituality is not always happy or even correct. Thus, when Tagore sings:
Who comes along singing and steering his boat?
--
both so idealise, etherealize, almost spiritualise the earth and the flesh that they seem ostensibly only a vesture of something else behind, something mysterious and other-worldly, something other than, even just opposite to what they actually are or appear to be. That is the mystique of the senses which is a very characteristic feature of some of the best poetic inspirations of France. Baudelaire too, the Satanic poet, by the sheer intensity of sympathy and sincerity, pierces as it were into the soul of things and makes the ugly, the unclean, the diseased, the sordid throb and glow with an almost celestial light. Here is the Baudelairean manner:
Tout casss
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This, I say, is something different from the religious and even from the mystic. It is away from the merely religious, because it is naked of the vesture of humanity (in spite of a human face that masks it at times) ; it is something more than the merely mystic, for it does not stop being a signpost or an indication to the Beyond, but is itself the presence and embodiment of the Beyond. The mystic gives us, we can say, the magic of the Infinite; what I term the spiritual, the spiritual proper, gives in addition the logic of the Infinite. At least this is what distinguishes modern spiritual consciousness from the ancient, that is, Upanishadic spiritual consciousness. The Upanishad gives expression to the spiritual consciousness in its original and pristine purity and perfection, in its essential simplicity. It did not buttress itself with any logic. It is the record of fundamental experiences and there was no question of any logical exposition. But, as I have said, the modern mind requires and demands a logical element in its perceptions and presentations. Also it must needs be a different kind of logic that can satisfy and satisfy wholly the deeper and subtler movements of a modern consciousness. For the philosophical poet of an earlier age, when he had recourse to logic, it was the logic of the finite that always gave him the frame, unless he threw the whole thing overboard and leaped straight into the occult, the illogical and the a logical, like Blake, for instance. Let me illustrate and compare a little. When the older poet explains indriyani hayan ahuh, it is an allegory he resorts to, it is the logic of the finite he marshals to point to the infinite and the beyond. The stress of reason is apparent and effective too, but the pattern is what we are normally familiar with the movement, we can say, is almost Aristotelian in its rigour. Now let us turn to the following:
Our life is a holocaust of the Supreme. ||26.15||
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This is what I was trying to make out as the distinguishing trait of the real spiritual consciousness that seems to be developing in the poetic creation of tomorrow, e.g., it has the same rationality, clarity, concreteness of perception as the scientific spirit has in its own domain and still it is rounded off with a halo of magic and miracle. That is the nature of the logic of the infinite proper to the spiritual consciousness. We can have a Science of the Spirit as well as a Science of Matter. This is the Thought element or what corresponds to it, of which I was speaking, the philosophical factor, that which gives form to the formless or definition to that which is vague, a nearness and familiarity to that which is far and alien. The fullness of the spiritual consciousness means such a thing, the presentation of a divine name and form. And this distinguishes it from the mystic consciousness which is not the supreme solar consciousness but the nearest approach to it. Or, perhaps, the mystic dwells in the domain of the Divine, he may even be suffused with a sense of unity but would not like to acquire the Divine's nature and function. Normally and generally he embodies all the aspiration and yearning moved by intimations and suggestions belonging to the human mentality, the divine urge retaining still the human flavour. We can say also, using a Vedantic terminology, that the mystic consciousness gives us the tatastha lakshana, the nearest approximative attribute of the attri buteless; or otherwise, it is the hiranyagarbha consciousness which englobes the multiple play, the coruscated possibilities of the Reality: while the spiritual proper may be considered as prajghana, the solid mass, the essential lineaments of revelatory knowledge, the typal "wave-particles" of the Reality. In the former there is a play of imagination, even of fancy, a decorative aesthesis, while in the latter it is vision pure and simple. If the spiritual poetry is solar in its nature, we can say, by extending the analogy, that mystic poetry is characteristically lunarMoon representing the delight and the magic that Mind and mental imagination, suffused, no doubt, with a light or a reflection of some light from beyond, is capable of (the Upanishad speaks of the Moon being born of the Mind).
To sum up and recapitulate. The evolution of the poetic expression in man has ever been an attempt at a return and a progressive approach to the spiritual source of poetic inspiration, which was also the original, though somewhat veiled, source from the very beginning. The movement has followed devious waysstrongly negative at timeseven like man's life and consciousness in general of which it is an organic member; but the ultimate end and drift seems to have been always that ideal and principle even when fallen on evil days and evil tongues. The poet's ideal in the dawn of the world was, as the Vedic Rishi sang, to raise things of beauty in heaven by his poetic power,kavi kavitv divi rpam sajat. Even a Satanic poet, the inaugurator, in a way, of modernism and modernistic consciousness, Charles Baudelaire, thus admonishes his spirit:
01.03 - Rationalism, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
It may be answered that Reason is a faculty which gives us progressive knowledge of the reality, but as a knowing instrument it is perfect, at least it is the only instrument at our disposal; even if it gives a false, incomplete or blurred image of the reality, it has the means and capacity of correcting and completing itself. It offers theories, no doubt; but what are theories? They are simply the gradually increasing adaptation of the knowing subject to the object to be known, the evolving revelation of reality to our perception of it. Reason is the power which carries on that process of adaptation and revelation; we can safely rely upon Reason and trust It to carry on its work with increasing success.
But in knowledge it is precisely finality that we seek for and no mere progressive, asymptotic, rapprochement ad infinitum. No less than the Practical Reason, the Theoretical Reason also demands a categorical imperative, a clean affirmation or denial. If Reason cannot do that, it must be regarded as inefficient. It is poor consolation to man that Reason is gradually finding out the truth or that it is trying to grapple with the problems of God, Soul and Immortality and will one day pronounce its verdict. Whether we have or have not any other instrument of knowledge is a different question altogether. But in the meanwhile Reason stands condemned by the evidence of its own limitation.
01.03 - Sri Aurobindo and his School, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Evidently the eminent politician and his school of activism are labouring under a Himalayan confusion: when they speak of Sri Aurobindo, they really have in their mind some of the old schools of spiritual discipline. But one of the marked aspects of Sri Aurobindo's teaching and practice has been precisely his insistence on putting aside the inert and life-shunning quietism, illusionism, asceticism and monasticism of a latter-day and decadent India. These ideals are perhaps as much obstacles in his way as in the way of the activistic school. Only Sri Aurobindo has not had the temerity to say that it is a weakness to seek refuge in contemplation or to suggest that a Buddha was a weakling or a Shankara a poltroon.
This much as regards what Sri Aurobindo is not doing; let us now turn and try to understand what he is doing. The distinguished man of action speaks of conquering Nature and fighting her. Adopting this war-like imagery, we can affirm that Sri Aurobindo's work is just such a battle and conquest. But the question is, what is nature and what is the kind of conquest that is sought, how are we to fight and what are the required arms and implements? A good general should foresee all this, frame his plan of campaign accordingly and then only take the field. The above-mentioned leader proposes ceaseless and unselfish action as the way to fight and conquer Nature. He who speaks thus does not know and cannot mean what he says.
European science is conquering Nature in a way. It has attained to a certain kind and measure, in some fields a great measure, of control and conquest; but however great or striking it may be in its own province, it does not touch man in his more intimate reality and does not bring about any true change in his destiny or his being. For the most vital part of nature is the region of the life-forces, the powers of disease and age and death, of strife and greed and lustall the instincts of the brute in man, all the dark aboriginal forces, the forces of ignorance that form the very groundwork of man's nature and his society. And then, as we rise next to the world of the mind, we find a twilight region where falsehood masquerades as truth, where prejudices move as realities, where notions rule as ideals.
This is the present nature of man, with its threefold nexus of mind and life and body, that stands there to be fought and conquered. This is the inferior nature, of which the ancients spoke, that holds man down inexorably to a lower dharma, imperfect mode of life the life that is and has been the human order till today. No amount of ceaseless action, however selflessly done, can move this wheel of Nature even by a hair's breadth away from the path that it has carved out from of old. Human nature and human society have been built up and are run by the forces of this inferior nature, and whatever shuffling and reshuffling we may make in its apparent factors and elements, the general scheme and fundamental form of life will never change. To displace earth (and to conquer nature means nothing less than that) and give it another orbit, one must find a fulcrum outside earth.
Sri Aurobindo does not preach flight from life and a retreat into the silent and passive Infinite; the goal of life is not, in his view, the extinction of life. Neither is he satisfied on that account to hold that life is best lived in the ordinary round of its unregenerate dharma. If the first is a blind alley, the second is a vicious circle,both lead nowhere.
Sri Aurobindo's sadhana starts from the perception of a Power that is beyond the ordinary nature yet is its inevitable master, a fulcrum, as we have said, outside the earth. For what is required first is the discovery and manifestation of a new soul-consciousness in man which will bring about by the very pressure and working out of its self-rule an absolute reversal of man's nature. It is the Asuras who are now holding sway over humanity, for man has allowed himself so long to be built in the image of the Asura; to dislodge the Asuras, the Gods in their sovereign might have to be forged in the human being and brought into play. It is a stupendous task, some would say impossible; but it is very far removed from quietism or passivism. Sri Aurobindo is in retirement, but it is a retirement only from the outward field of present physical activities and their apparent actualities, not from the true forces and action of life. It is the retreat necessary to one who has to go back into himself to conquer a new plane of creative power,an entrance right into the world of basic forces, of fundamental realities, into the flaming heart of things where all actualities are born and take their first shape. It is the discovery of a power-house of tremendous energism and of the means of putting it at the service of earthly life.
And, properly speaking, it is not at all a school, least of all a mere school of thought, that is growing round Sri Aurobindo. It is rather the nucleus of a new life that is to come. Quite naturally it has almost insignificant proportions at present to the outward eye, for the work is still of the nature of experiment and trial in very restricted limits, something in the nature of what is done in a laboratory when a new power has been discovered, but has still to be perfectly formulated in its process. And it is quite a mistake to suppose that there is a vigorous propaganda carried on in its behalf or that there is a large demand for recruits. Only the few, who possess the call within and are impelled by the spirit of the future, have a chance of serving this high attempt and great realisation and standing among its first instruments and pioneer workers.
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01.03 - The Yoga of the King - The Yoga of the Souls Release, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
There rose a song of new discovery,
A bow-twang's hum of young experiment.
--
And the Everlasting puts on Time's disguise.
To the still heights and to the troubled depths
--
A swift intuitive discernment shone.
One glance could separate the true and false,
--
Detect the magic bride in her disguise
Or scan the apparent face of thought and life.
--
She joined the distant ends, the viewless deeps,
Or streaked along the roads of Heaven and Hell
--
Calling to infinite discovery;
Timeless domains of joy and absolute power
--
It left mind's distance from the Truth supreme
And lost life's incapacity for bliss.
01.03 - Yoga and the Ordinary Life, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
It is not helpful to abandon the ordinary life before the being is ready for the full spiritual life. To do so means to precipitate a struggle between the different elements and exasperate it to a point of intensity which the nature is not ready to bear. The vital elements in you have partly to be met by the discipline and experience of life, while keeping the spiritual aim in view and trying to govern life by it progressively in the spirit of Karmayoga.
The best way to prepare oneself for the spiritual life when one has to live in the ordinary occupations and surroundings is to cultivate an entire equality and detachment and the samata of the Gita with the faith that the Divine is there and the Divine Will at work in all things even though at present under the conditions of a world of Ignorance. Beyond this are the Light and Ananda towards which life is working, but the best way for their advent and foundation in the individual being and nature is to grow in this spiritual equality. That would also solve your difficulty about things unpleasant and disagreeable. All unpleasantness should be faced with this spirit of samata.
I may say briefly that there are two states of consciousness in either of which one can live. One is a higher consciousness which stands above the play of life and governs it; this is variously called the Self, the Spirit or the Divine. The other is the normal consciousness in which men live; it is something quite superficial, an instrument of the Spirit for the play of life. Those who live and act in the normal consciousness are governed entirely by the common movements of the mind and are naturally subject to grief and joy and anxiety and desire or to everything else that makes up the ordinary stuff of life.
01.04 - Motives for Seeking the Divine, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
- one may regard the Supreme not as the Divine but as one's highest Self and seek fulfilment of one's being in that highest Self; but one need not envisage it as a self of bliss, ecstasy, Ananda - one may envisage it as a self of freedom, vastness, knowledge, tranquillity, strength, calm, perfection - perhaps too calm for a ripple of anything so disturbing as joy to enter. So even if it is for something to be gained that one approaches the Divine, it is not a fact that one can approach Him or seek union only for the sake of Ananda and nothing else.
That involves something which throws all your reasoning out of gear. For these are aspects of the Divine Nature, powers of it, states of his being, - but the Divine Himself is something absolute, someone self-existent, not limited by his aspects, - wonderful and ineffable, not existing by them, but they existing because of him. It follows that if he attracts by his aspects, all the more he can attract by his very absolute selfness which is sweeter, mightier, profounder than any aspect. His peace, rapture, light, freedom, beauty are marvellous and ineffable, because he is himself magically, mysteriously, transcendently marvellous and ineffable. He can then be sought after for his wonderful and ineffable self and not only for the sake of one aspect or another of him. The only thing needed for that is, first, to arrive at a point when the psychic being feels this pull of the Divine in himself and, secondly, to arrive at the point when the mind, vital and each thing else begins to feel too that that was what it was wanting and the surface hunt after Ananda or what else was only an excuse for drawing the nature towards that supreme magnet.
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That means what? That men, country, Truth and other things besides can be loved for their own sake and not for anything else, not for any circumstance or attendant quality or resulting enjoyment, but for something absolute that is either in them or behind their appearance and circumstance. The Divine is more than a man or woman, a stretch of land or a creed, opinion, discovery or principle. He is the Person beyond all persons, the
Home and Country of all souls, the Truth of which truths are only imperfect figures. And can He then not be loved and sought for his own sake, as and more than these have been by men even in their lesser selves and nature?
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"A self-less self-giving is the best policy." Only one does not do it out of policy. Ananda is the result, but it is done not for the result, but for the self-giving itself and for the Divine himself - a subtle distinction, it may seem to the mind, but very real.
01.04 - Sri Aurobindos Gita, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
The supreme secret of the Gita, rahasyam uttamam, has presented itself to diverse minds in diverse forms. All these however fall, roughly speaking, into two broad groups of which one may be termed the orthodox school and the other the modem school. The orthodox school as represented, for example, by Shankara or Sridhara, viewed the Gita in the light of the spiritual discipline more or less current in those ages, when the purpose of life was held out to be emancipation from life, whether through desireless work or knowledge or devotion or even a combination of the three. The Modern School, on the other hand, represented by Bankim in Bengal and more thoroughly developed and systematised in recent times by Tilak, is inspired by its own Time-Spirit and finds in the Gita a gospel of life-fulfilment. The older interpretation laid stress upon a spiritual and religious, which meant therefore in the end an other-worldly discipline; the newer interpretation seeks to dynamise the more or less quietistic spirituality which held the ground in India of later ages, to set a premium upon action, upon duty that is to be done in our workaday life, though with a spiritual intent and motive.
This neo-spirituality which might claim its sanction and authority from the real old-world Indian disciplinesay, of Janaka and Yajnavalkyalabours, however, in reality, under the influence of European activism and ethicism. It was this which served as the immediate incentive to our spiritual revival and revaluation and its impress has not been thoroughly obliterated even in the best of our modern exponents. The bias of the vital urge and of the moral imperative is apparent enough in the modernist conception of a dynamic spirituality. Fundamentally the dynamism is made to reside in the lan of the ethical man,the spiritual element, as a consciousness of supreme unity in the Absolute (Brahman) or of love and delight in God, serving only as an atmosphere for the mortal activity.
Sri Aurobindo has raised action completely out of the mental and moral plane and has given it an absolute spiritual life. Action has been spiritualised by being carried back to its very source and origin, for it is the expression in life of God's own Consciousness-Energy (Chit-Shakti).
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The higher secret of the Gita lies really in the later chapters, the earlier chapters being a preparation and passage to it orpartial and practical application. This has to be pointed out, since there is a notion current which seeks to limit the Gita's effective teaching to the earlier part, neglecting or even discarding the later portion.
The style and manner of Sri Aurobindo's interpretation1 is also supremely characteristic: it does not carry the impress of a mere metaphysical dissertation-although in matter it clothes throughout a profound philosophy; it is throbbing with the luminous life of a prophet's message, it is instinct with something of the Gita's own mantraakti.
Essays on the Gita, Sri Aurobindo Ashram, Pondicherry
01.04 - The Intuition of the Age, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
A new impulse is there, no one can deny, and it has vast possibilities before it, that also one need not hesitate to accept. But in order that we may best fructuate what has been spontaneously sown, we must first recognise it, be luminously conscious of it and develop it along its proper line of growth. For, also certain it is that this new impulse or intuition, however true and strong in itself, is still groping and erring and miscarrying; it is still wasting much of its energy in tentative things, in mere experiments, in even clear failures. The fact is that the intuition has not yet become an enlightened one, it is still moving, as we shall presently explain, in the dark vital regions of man. And vitalism is naturally and closely affianced to pragmatism, that is to say, the mere vital impulse seeks immediately to execute itself, it looks for external effects, for changes in the form, in the machinery only. Thus it is that we see in art and literature discussions centred upon the scheme of composition, as whether the new poetry should be lyrical or dramatic, popular or aristocratic, metrical or free of metre, and in practical life we talk of remodelling the state by new methods of representation and governance, of purging society by bills and legislation, of reforming humanity by a business pact.
All this may be good and necessary, but there is the danger of leaving altogether out of account the one thing needful. We must then pause and turn back, look behind the apparent impulsion that effectuates to the Will that drives, behind the ideas and ideals of the mind to the soul that informs and inspires; we must carry ourselves up the stream and concentrate upon the original source, the creative intuition that lies hidden somewhere. And then only all the new stirrings that we feel in our heartour urges and ideals and visions will attain an effective clarity, an unshaken purpose and an inevitable achievement.
That is to say, the change has been in the soul of man himself, the being has veered round and taken a new orientation. It is this which one must envisage, recognise and consciously possess, in order that one may best fulfil the call of the age. But what we are doing instead is to observe the mere external signs and symbols and symptoms, to fix upon the distant quiverings, the echoes on the outermost rim, which are not always faithful representations, but very often distorted images of the truth and life at the centre and source and matrix. We must know that if there has been going on a re distribution and new-marshalling of forces, it is because the fiat has come from the Etat Major.
Now, in order to understand the new orientation of the spirit of the present age, we may profitably ask what was the inspiration of the past age, the characteristic note which has failed to satisfy us and which we are endeavouring to transform. We know that that age was the Scientific age or the age of Reason. Its great prophets were Voltaire and the Encyclopae dists or if you mount further up in time, we may begin from Bacon and the humanists. Its motto was first, "The proper study of mankind is man" and secondly, Reason is the supreme organon of knowledge, the highest deity in manla Desse Raison. And it is precisely against these two basic principles that the new age has entered its protest. In face of Humanism, Nietzsche has posited the Superman and in face of Reason Bergson has posited Intuition.
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Reason is insufficient and unsatisfactory because, as Bergson explains, it does not and cannot embrace life as a whole, seize man and the world in an integral realisation. The greater part of the vast mystery of existence escapes its envergure. Reason is that faculty which is for analysing, defining, classifying and fixing things. It is a power that has grown in man in order that he may best manipulate the things of the world. It is utilitarian, practical in its nature and outlook. And as practical dealing requires that things should be stable and separate entities, therefore Reason cannot but see things in solid and in the fragments of a solid. It cuts up existence into distinct parts and diverse elements; and these again it seeks to relate and aggregate, in accordance with what it calls "laws". Such a process has been necessary for man in conducting life and action successfully. Originally a bye-product of active life, Reason gradually separated itself and came finally to have an independent status and function, became or sought to become the instrument of knowledge, of Truth.
But although Reason has been and is useful for the practical, we may say almost, the manual aspect of life, life itself it leaves unexplained and uncomprehended. For life is mobility, a continuous flow that has nowhere any gap or stop and things have in reality no isolated or separate existence, they merge and mingle into one another and form an in dissoluble whole. Therefore the forms and categories that Reason imposes upon existence are more or less arbitrary; they are shackles that seek to bind up and limit life, but are often rent asunder in the very effort. So the civilisation that has its origin in Reason and progresses with discoveries and inventionsdevices for artfully manipulating naturehas been essentially and pre-eminently mechanical in its structure and outlook. It has become more and more efficient perhaps, but less and less soul-inspired, less and less-endowed with the free-flowing sap of organic growth and vitality.
So instead of the rational principle, the new age wants the principle of Nature or Life. Even as regards knowledge Reason is not the only, nor the best instrument. For animals have properly no reason; the nature-principle of knowledge in the animal is Instinct the faculty that acts so faultlessly, so marvellously where Reason can only pause and be perplexed. This is not to say that man is to or can go back to this primitive and animal function; but certainly he can replace it by something akin which is as natural and yet purified and self-consciousillumined instinct, we may say or Intuition, as Bergson terms it. And Nietzsche's definition of the Superman has also a similar orientation and significance; for, according to him, the Superman is man who has outgrown his Reason, who is not bound by the standards and the conventions determined by Reason for a special purpose. The Superman is one who has gone beyond "good and evil," who has shaken off from his nature and character elements that are "human, all too human"who is the embodiment of life-force in its absolute purity and strength and freedom.
This then is the mantra of the new ageLife with Intuition as its guide and not Reason and mechanical efficiency, not Man but Superman. The right mantra has been found, the principle itself is irreproachable. But the interpretation, the application, does not seem to have been always happy. For, Nietzsche's conception of the Superman is full of obvious lacunae. If we have so long been adoring the intellectual man, Nietzsche asks us, on the other hand, to deify the vital man. According to him the superman is he who has (1) the supreme sense of the ego, (2) the sovereign will to power and (3) who lives dangerously. All this means an Asura, that is to say, one who has, it may be, dominion over his animal and vital impulsions in order, of course, that he may best gratify them but who has not purified them. Purification does not necessarily mean, annihilation but it does mean sublimation and transformation. So if you have to transcend man, you have to transcend egoism also. For a conscious egoism is the very characteristic of man and by increasing your sense of egoism you do not supersede man but simply aggran dise your humanity, fashion it on a larger, a titanic scale. And then the will to power is not the only will that requires fulfilment, there is also the will to knowledge and the will to love. In man these three fundamental constitutive elements coexist, although they do it, more often than not, at the expense of each other and in a state of continual disharmony. The superman, if he is to be the man "who has surmounted himself", must embody a poise of being in which all the three find a fusion and harmonya perfect synthesis. Again, to live dangerously may be heroic, but it is not divine. To live dangerously means to have eternal opponents, that is to say, to live ever on the same level with the forces you want to dominate. To have the sense that one has to fight and control means that one is not as yet the sovereign lord, for one has to strive and strain and attain. The supreme lord is he who is perfectly equanimous with himself and with the world. He has not to batter things into a shape in order to create. He creates means, he manifests. He wills and he achieves"God said 'let there be light' and there was light."
As a matter of fact, the superman is not, as Nietzsche thinks him to be, the highest embodiment of the biological force of Nature, not even as modified and refined by the aesthetic and aristocratic virtues of which the higher reaches of humanity seem capable. For that is after all humanity only accentuated in certain other fundamentally human modes of existence. It does not carry far enough the process of surmounting. In reality it is not a surmounting but a new channelling. Instead of the ethical and intellectual man, we get the vital and aesthetic man. It may be a change but not a transfiguration.
01.04 - The Poetry in the Making, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
I said that the supreme artist is superconscious: his consciousness withdraws from the normal mental consciousness and becomes awake and alive in another order of consciousness. To that superior consciousness the artist's mentalityhis ideas and dispositions, his judgments and valuations and acquisitions, in other words, his normal psychological make-upserves as a channel, an instrument, a medium for transcription. Now, there are two stages, or rather two lines of activity in the processus, for they may be overlapping and practically simultaneous. First, there is the withdrawal and the in-gathering of consciousness and then its reappearance into expression. The consciousness retires into a secret or subtle worldWords-worth's "recollected in tranquillity"and comes back with the riches gathered or transmuted there. But the purity of the gold thus garnered and stalled in the artistry of words and sounds or lines and colours depends altogether upon the purity of the channel through which it has to pass. The mental vehicle receives and records and it can do so to perfection if it is perfectly in tune with what it has to receive and record; otherwise the transcription becomes mixed and blurred, a faint or confused echo, a poor show. The supreme creators are precisely those in whom the receptacle, the instrumental faculties offer the least resistance and record with absolute fidelity the experiences of the over or inner consciousness. In Shakespeare, in Homer, in Valmiki the inflatus of the secret consciousness, the inspiration, as it is usually termed, bears down, sweeps away all obscurity or contrariety in the recording mentality, suffuses it with its own glow and puissance, indeed resolves it into its own substance, as it were. And the difference between the two, the secret norm and the recording form, determines the scale of the artist's creative value. It happens often that the obstruction of a too critically observant and self-conscious brain-mind successfully blocks up the flow of something supremely beautiful that wanted to come down and waited for an opportunity.
Artists themselves, almost invariably, speak of their inspiration: they look upon themselves more or less as mere instruments of something or some Power that is beyond them, beyond their normal consciousness attached to the brain-mind, that controls them and which they cannot control. This perception has been given shape in myths and legends. Goddess Saraswati or the Muses are, however, for them not a mere metaphor but concrete realities. To what extent a poet may feel himself to be a mere passive, almost inanimate, instrumentnothing more than a mirror or a sensitive photographic plateis illustrated in the famous case of Coleridge. His Kubla Khan, as is well known, he heard in sleep and it was a long poem very distinctly recited to him, but when he woke up and wanted to write it down he could remember only the opening lines, the rest having gone completely out of his memory; in other words, the poem was ready-composed somewhere else, but the transmitting or recording instrument was faulty and failed him. Indeed, it is a common experience to hear in sleep verses or musical tunes and what seem then to be very beautiful things, but which leave no trace on the brain and are not recalled in memory.
Still, it must be noted that Coleridge is a rare example, for the recording apparatus is not usually so faithful but puts up its own formations that disturb and alter the perfection of the original. The passivity or neutrality of the intermediary is relative, and there are infinite grades of it. Even when the larger waves that play in it in the normal waking state are quieted down, smaller ripples of unconscious or half-conscious habitual formations are thrown up and they are sufficient to cause the scattering and dispersal of the pure light from above.
The absolute passivity is attainable, perhaps, only by the Yogi. And in this sense the supreme poet is a Yogi, for in his consciousness the higher, deeper, subtler or other modes of experiences pass through and are recorded with the minimum aberration or diffraction.
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Not only so, the future development of the poetic consciousness seems inevitably to lead to such a consummation in which the creative and the critical faculties will not be separate but form part of one and indivisible movement. Historically, human consciousness has grown from unconsciousness to consciousness and from consciousness to self-consciousness; man's creative and artistic genius too has moved pari passu in the same direction. The earliest and primitive poets were mostly unconscious, that is to say, they wrote or said things as they came to them spontaneously, without effort, without reflection, they do not seem to know the whence and wherefore and whither of it all, they know only that the wind bloweth as it listeth. That was when man had not yet eaten the fruit of knowledge, was still in the innocence of childhood. But as he grew up and progressed, he became more and more conscious, capable of exerting and exercising a deliberate will and initiating a purposive action, not only in the external practical field but also in the psychological domain. If the earlier group is called "primitives", the later one, that of conscious artists, usually goes by the name of "classicists." Modern creators have gone one step farther in the direction of self-consciousness, a return upon oneself, an inlook of full awareness and a free and alert activity of the critical faculties. An unconscious artist in the sense of the "primitives" is almost an impossible phenomenon in the modern world. All are scientists: an artist cannot but be consciously critical, deliberate, purposive in what he creates and how he creates. Evidently, this has cost something of the old-world spontaneity and supremacy of utterance; but it cannot be helped, we cannot comm and the tide to roll back, Canute-like. The feature has to be accepted and a remedy and new orientation discovered.
The modern critical self-consciousness in the artist originated with the Romantics. The very essence of Romanticism is curiosity the scientist's pleasure in analysing, observing, experimenting, changing the conditions of our reactions, mental or sentimental or even nervous and physical by way of discovery of new and unforeseen or unexpected modes of "psychoses" or psychological states. Goethe, Wordsworth, Stendhal represented a mentality and initiated a movement which led logically to the age of Hardy, Housman and Bridges and in the end to that of Lawrence and Joyce, Ezra Pound and Eliot and Auden. On the Continent we can consider Flaubert as the last of the classicists married to the very quintessence of Romanticism. A hard, self-regarding, self-critical mentality, a cold scalpel-like gaze that penetrates and upturns the reverse side of things is intimately associated with the poetic genius of Mallarm and constitutes almost the whole of Valry's. The impassioned lines of a very modern poet like Aragon are also characterised by a consummate virtuosity in chiselled artistry, conscious and deliberate and willed at every step and turn.
The consciously purposive activity of the poetic consciousness in fact, of all artistic consciousness has shown itself with a clear and unambiguous emphasis in two directions. First of all with regard to the subject-matter: the old-world poets took things as they were, as they were obvious to the eye, things of human nature and things of physical Nature, and without questioning dealt with them in the beauty of their normal form and function. The modern mentality has turned away from the normal and the obvious: it does not accept and admit the "given" as the final and definitive norm of things. It wishes to discover and establish other norms, it strives to bring about changes in the nature and condition of things, envisage the shape of things to come, work for a brave new world. The poet of today, in spite of all his effort to remain a pure poet, in spite of Housman's advocacy of nonsense and not-sense being the essence of true Art, is almost invariably at heart an incorrigible prophet. In revolt against the old and established order of truths and customs, against all that is normally considered as beautiful,ideals and emotions and activities of man or aspects and scenes and movements of Natureagainst God or spiritual life, the modern poet turns deliberately to the ugly and the macabre, the meaningless, the insignificant and the triflingtins and teas, bone and dust and dustbin, hammer and sicklehe is still a prophet, a violent one, an iconoclast, but one who has his own icon, a terribly jealous being, that seeks to pull down the past, erase it, to break and batter and knead the elements in order to fashion out of them something conforming to his heart's desire. There is also the class who have the vision and found the truth and its solace, who are prophets, angelic and divine, messengers and harbingers of a new beauty that is to dawn upon earth. And yet there are others in whom the two strains mingle or approach in a strange way. All this means that the artist is far from being a mere receiver, a mechanical executor, a passive unconscious instrument, but that he is supremely' conscious and master of his faculties and implements. This fact is doubly reinforced when we find how much he is preoccupied with the technical aspect of his craft. The richness and variety of patterns that can be given to the poetic form know no bounds today. A few major rhythms were sufficient for the ancients to give full expression to their poetic inflatus. For they cared more for some major virtues, the basic and fundamental qualitiessuch as truth, sublimity, nobility, forcefulness, purity, simplicity, clarity, straightforwardness; they were more preoccupied with what they had to say and they wanted, no doubt, to say it beautifully and powerfully; but the modus operandi was not such a passion or obsession with them, it had not attained that almost absolute value for itself which modern craftsmanship gives it. As technology in practical life has become a thing of overwhelming importance to man today, become, in the Shakespearean phrase, his "be-all and end-all", even so the same spirit has invaded and pervaded his aesthetics too. The subtleties, variations and refinements, the revolutions, reversals and inventions which the modern poet has ushered and takes delight in, for their own sake, I repeat, for their intrinsic interest, not for the sake of the subject which they have to embody and clothe, have never been dream by Aristotle, the supreme legislator among the ancients, nor by Horace, the almost incomparable craftsman among the ancients in the domain of poetry. Man has become, to be sure, a self-conscious creator to the pith of his bone.
Such a stage in human evolution, the advent of Homo Faber, has been a necessity; it has to serve a purpose and it has done admirably its work. Only we have to put it in its proper place. The salvation of an extremely self-conscious age lies in an exceeding and not in a further enhancement or an exclusive concentration of the self-consciousness, nor, of course, in a falling back into the original unconsciousness. It is this shift in the poise of consciousness that has been presaged and prepared by the conscious, the scientific artists of today. Their task is to forge an instrument for a type of poetic or artistic creation completely new, unfamiliar, almost revolutionary which the older mould would find it impossible to render adequately. The yearning of the human consciousness was not to rest satisfied with the familiar and the ordinary, the pressure was for the discovery of other strands, secret stores of truth and reality and beauty. The first discovery was that of the great Unconscious, the dark and mysterious and all-powerful subconscient. Many of our poets and artists have been influenced by this power, some even sought to enter into that region and become its denizens. But artistic inspiration is an emanation of Light; whatever may be the field of its play, it can have its origin only in the higher spheres, if it is to be truly beautiful and not merely curious and scientific.
That is what is wanted at present in the artistic world the true inspiration, the breath from higher altitudes. And here comes the role of the mystic, the Yogi. The sense of evolution, the march of human consciousness demands and prophesies that the future poet has to be a mysticin him will be fulfilled the travail of man's conscious working. The self-conscious craftsman, the tireless experimenter with his adventurous analytic mind has sharpened his instrument, made it supple and elastic, tempered, refined and enriched it; that is comparable to what we call the aspiration or call from below. Now the Grace must descend and fulfil. And when one rises into this higher consciousness beyond the brain and mind, when one lives there habitually, one knows the why and the how of things, one becomes a perfectly conscious operator and still retains all spontaneity and freshness and wonder and magic that are usually associated with inconscience and irreflection. As there is a spontaneity of instinct, there is likewise also a spontaneity of vision: a child is spontaneous in its movements, even so a seer. Not only so, the higher spontaneity is more spontaneous, for the higher consciousness means not only awareness but the free and untrammelled activity and expression of the truth and reality it is.
01.04 - The Secret Knowledge, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
To the discovery of a greater self
And the far gleam of an eternal Light.
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Await discovery in our summit selves;
Unmeasured breadths and depths of being are ours.
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Approaching through huge distances of Time,
Unmarked by the eye that sees effect and cause,
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These calm and distant Mights shall act at last.
Immovably ready for their destined task,
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In this tragi-comedy of divine disguise,
This long far seeking for joy ever near,
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And disguised the Love and Wisdom in her heart;
Of all the marvel and beauty that are hers,
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Her whim the dispenser of his pleasure and pain;
He has sold himself into her regal power
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From distant boundaries in the Unseen:
A long beginning only has been made.
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This is World-Matter's slow discoverer,
Who, launched into this small corporeal birth,
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A widening world calls him to distant scenes
And journeyings in a larger vision's arc
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To reach unknown harbour lights in distant climes
And open markets for life's opulent arts,
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And journey into a dream of distances
He travels close to unfamiliar coasts
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He goes or, armed with her fiat, to discover
A new mind and body in the city of God
01.05 - Rabindranath Tagore: A Great Poet, a Great Man, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
The spirit of the age demands this new gospel. Mankind needs and awaits a fresh revelation. The world and life are not an illusion or a lesser reality: they are, if taken rightly, as real as the pure Spirit itself. Indeed, Spirit and Flesh, Consciousness and Matter are not antinomies; to consider them as such is itself an illusion. In fact, they are only two poles or modes or aspects of the same reality. To separate or divide them is a one-sided concentration or abstraction on the part of the human mind. The fulfilment of the Spirit is in its expression through Matter; human life too reaches its highest term, its summum bonum, in embodying the spiritual consciousness here on earth and not dissolving itself in the Transcendence. That is the new dispensation which answers to the deepest aspiration in man and towards which he has been travelling through the ages in the course of the evolution of his consciousness. Many, however, are the prophets and sages who have set this ideal before humanity and more and more insistently and clearly as we come nearer to the age we live in. But none or very few have expressed it with such beauty and charm and compelling persuasion. It would be carping criticism to point out-as some, purists one may call them, have done-that in poetising and aesthetising the spiritual truth and reality, in trying to make it human and terrestrial, he has diminished and diluted the original substance, in endeavouring to render the diamond iridescent, he has turned it into a baser alloy. Tagore's is a poetic soul, it must be admitted; and it is not necessary that one should find in his ideas and experiences and utterances the cent per cent accuracy and inevitability of a Yogic consciousness. Still his major perceptions, those that count, stand and are borne out by the highest spiritual realisation.
Tagore is no inventor or innovator when he posits Spirit as Beauty, the spiritual consciousness as the ardent rhythm of ecstasy. This experience is the very core of Vaishnavism and for which Tagore is sometimes called a Neo-Vaishnava. The Vaishnava sees the world pulsating in glamorous beauty as the Lila (Play) of the Lord, and the Lord, God himself, is nothing but Love and Beauty. Still Tagore is not all Vaishnava or merely a Vaishnava; he is in addition a modern (the carping voice will say, there comes the dilution and adulteration)in the sense that problems exist for himsocial, political, economic, national, humanitarianwhich have to be faced and solved: these are not merely mundane, but woven into the texture of the fundamental problem of human destiny, of Soul and Spirit and God. A Vaishnava was, in spite of his acceptance of the world, an introvert, to use a modern psychological phrase, not necessarily in the pejorative sense, but in the neutral scientific sense. He looks upon the universe' and human life as the play of the Lord, as an actuality and not mere illusion indeed; but he does not participate or even take interest in the dynamic working out of the world process, he does not care to know, has no need of knowing that there is a terrestrial purpose and a diviner fulfilment of the mortal life upon earth. The Vaishnava dwells more or less absorbed in the Vaikuntha of his inner consciousness; the outer world, although real, is only a symbolic shadowplay to which he can but be a witness-real, is only a nothing more.
01.05 - The Nietzschean Antichrist, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
This is the Nietzsche we all know. But there is another aspect of his which the world has yet been slow to recognise. For, at bottom, Nietzsche is not all storm and fury. If his Superman is a Destroying Angel, he is none the less an angel. If he is endowed with a supreme sense of strength and power, there is also secreted in the core of his heart a sense of the beautiful that illumines his somewhat sombre aspect. For although Nietzsche is by birth a Slavo-Teuton, by culture and education he is pre-eminently Hellenic. His earliest works are on the subject of Greek tragedy and form what he describes as an "Apollonian dream." And to this dream, to this Greek aesthetic sense more than to any thing else he sacrifices justice and pity and charity. To him the weak and the miserable, the sick and the maimed are a sort of blot, a kind of ulcer on the beautiful face of humanity. The herd that wallow in suffering and relish suffering disfigure the aspect of the world and should therefore be relentlessly mowed out of existence. By being pitiful to them we give our tacit assent to their persistence. And it is precisely because of this that Nietzsche has a horror of Christianity. For compassion gives indulgence to all the ugliness of the world and thus renders that ugliness a necessary and in dispensable element of existence. To protect the weak, to sympathise with the lowly brings about more of weakness and more of lowliness. Nietzsche has an aristocratic taste par excellencewhat he aims at is health and vigour and beauty. But above all it is an aristocracy of the spirit, an aristocracy endowed with all the richness and beauty of the soul that Nietzsche wants to establish. The beggar of the street is the symbol of ugliness, of the poverty of the spirit. And the so-called aristocrat, die millionaire of today is as poor and ugly as any helpless leper. The soul of either of them is made of the same dirty, sickly stuff. The tattered rags, the crouching heart, the effeminate nerve, the unenlightened soul are the standing ugliness of the world and they have no place in the ideal, the perfect humanity. Humanity, according to Nietzsche, is made in order to be beautiful, to conceive the beautiful, to create the beautiful. Nietzsche's Superman has its perfect image in a Grecian statue of Zeus cut out in white marble-Olympian grandeur shedding in every lineament Apollonian beauty and Dionysian vigour.
The real secret of Nietzsche's philosophy is not an adoration of brute force, of blind irrational joy in fighting and killing. Far from it, Nietzsche has no kinship with Treitschke or Bernhard. What Nietzsche wanted was a world purged of littleness and ugliness, a humanity, not of saints, perhaps, but of heroes, lofty in their ideal, great in their achievement, majestic in their empirea race of titanic gods breathing the glory of heaven itself.
01.05 - The Yoga of the King - The Yoga of the Spirits Freedom and Greatness, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
And to discern the superhuman's form
He raised his eyes to unseen spiritual heights,
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A wideness discontented with its frame
Resiled from poor assent to Nature's terms,
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An old disvalued credit in Time's bank,
Imperfection's cheque drawn on the Inconscient.
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In distance sank the crowded tramp of life.
The Silence was his sole companion left.
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Thought and its shadowy idols disappear,
The moulds of form and person are undone:
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Acts at a distance without hands or feet.
This giant Ignorance, this dwarfish Life
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A long road of shimmering discoveries.
The worlds of a marvellous Unknown were near,
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\tA giant order was discovered here
Of which the tassel and extended fringe
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All there discovered what it seeks for here.
It freed the finite into boundlessness
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Heard like disjointed mutterings in sleep;
It grouped the golden links that they had lost
01.06 - On Communism, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Communism is the synthesis of collectivism and individualism. The past ages of society were characterised more or less by a severe collectivism. In ancient Greece, more so in Sparta and in Rome, the individual had, properly speaking, no separate existence of his own; he was merged in the State or Nation. The individual was considered only as a limb of the collective being, had to live and labour for the common weal. The value attached to each person was strictly in reference to the output that the group to which he belonged received from him. Apart from this service for the general unit the body politicany personal endeavour and achievement, if not absolutely discouraged and repressed, was given a very secondary place of merit. The summum bonum of the individual was to sacrifice at the altar of the res publica, the bonum publicum. In India, the position and function of the State or Nation was taken up by the society. Here too social institutions were so constituted and men were so bred and brought up that individuality had neither the occasion nor the incentive to express itself, it was a thing that remained, in the Kalidasian phrase, an object for the ear onlysrutau sthita. Those who sought at all an individual aim and purpose, as perhaps the Sannyasins, were put outside the gate of law and society. Within the society, in actual life and action, it was a sin and a crime or at least a gross imperfection to have any self-regarding motive or impulse; personal preference was the last thing to be considered, virtue consisted precisely in sacrificing one's own taste and inclination for the sake of that which the society exacts and sanctions.
Against this tyranny of the group, this absolute rule of the collective will, the human mind rose in revolt and the result was Individualism. For whatever may be the truth and necessity of the Collective, the Individual is no less true and necessary. The individual has his own law and urge of being and his own secret godhead. The collective godhead derides the individual godhead at its peril. The first movement of the reaction, however, was a run to the other extremity; a stern collectivism gave birth to an intransigent individualism. The individual is sacred and inviolable, cost what it may. It does not matter what sort of individuality one seeks, it is enough if the thing is there. So the doctrine of individualism has come to set a premium on egoism and on forces that are disruptive of all social bonds. Each and every individual has the inherent right, which is also a duty, to follow his own impetus and impulse. Society is nothing but the battle ground for competing individualities the strongest survive and the weakest go to the wall. Association and co-operation are instruments that the individual may use and utilise for his own growth and development but in the main they act as deterrents rather than as aids to the expression and expansion of his characteristic being. In reality, however, if we probe sufficiently deep into the matter we find that there is no such thing as corporate life and activity; what appears as such is only a camouflage for rigorous competition; at the best, there maybe only an offensive and defensive alliancehumanity fights against nature, and within humanity itself group fights against group and in the last analysis, within the group, the individual fights against the individual. This is the ultimate Law-the Dharma of creation.
Now, what such an uncompromising individualism fails to recognise is that individuality and ego are not the same thing, that the individual may have his individuality intact and entire and yet sacrifice his ego, that the soul of man is a much greater thing than his vital being. It is simply ignoring the fact and denying the truth to say that man is only a fighting animal and not a loving god, that the self within the individual realises itself only through competition and not co-operation. It is an error to conceive of society as a mere parallelogram of forces, to suppose that it has risen simply out of the struggle of individual interests and continues to remain by that struggle. Struggle is only one aspect of the thing, a particular form at a particular stage, a temporary manifestation due to a particular system and a particular habit and training. It would be nearer the truth to say that society came into being with the demand of the individual soul to unite with the individual soul, with the stress of an Over-soul to express itself in a multitude of forms, diverse yet linked together and organised in perfect harmony. Only, the stress for union manifested itself first on the material plane as struggle: but this is meant to be corrected and transcended and is being continually corrected and transcended by a secret harmony, a real commonality and brotherhood and unity. The individual is not so self-centred as the individualists make him to be, his individuality has a much vaster orbit and fulfils itself only by fulfilling others. The scientists have begun to discover other instincts in man than those of struggle and competition; they now place at the origin of social grouping an instinct which they name the herd-instinct: but this is only a formulation in lower terms, a translation on the vital plane of a higher truth and reality the fundamental oneness and accord of individuals and their spiritual impulsion to unite.
However, individualism has given us a truth and a formula which collectivism ignored. Self-determination is a thing which has come to stay. Each and every individual is free, absolutely free and shall freely follow his own line of growth and development and fulfilment. No extraneous power shall choose and fix what is good or evil for him, nor coerce and exploit him for its own benefit. But that does not necessarily mean that collectivism has no truth in it; collectivism also, as much as individualism, has a lesson for us and we should see whether we can harmonise the two. Collectivism signifies that the individual should not look to himself alone, should not be shut up in his freedom but expand himself and envelop others in a wider freedom, see other creatures in himself and himself in other creatures, as the Gita says. Collectivism demands that the individual need not and should not exhaust himself entirely in securing and enjoying his personal freedom, but that he can and should work for the salvation of others; the truth it upholds is this that the individual is from a certain point of view only a part of the group and by ignoring the latter it ignores itself in the end.
Now, a spiritual communism embraces individualism and collectivism, fuses them in a higher truth, establishes them in an intimate and absolute harmony. The individual is the centre, the group is the circumference and the two form one whore circle. The individual by fulfilling the truth of his real individuality fulfils also the truth of a commonality. There are no different laws for the two. The individuals do not stand apart from and against one another, the dharma of one does not clash with the dharma of the other. The ripples in the bosom of the sea, however distinct and discrete in appearance, form but a single mass, all follow the same law of hydrodynamics that the mother sea incarnates. Stars and planets and nebulae, each separate heavenly body has its characteristic form and nature and function and yet all fulfil the same law of gravitation and beat the measure of the silent symphony of spaces. Individualities are the freedoms of the collective being and collectivity the concentration of individual beings. The same soul looking inward appears as the individual being and looking outward appears as the collective being.
Communism takes man not as ego or the vital creature; it turns him upside downurdhomulo' vaksakhah and establishes him upon his soul, his inner godhead. Thus established the individual soul finds and fulfils the divine law that by increasing itself it increases others and by increasing others it increases itself and thus by increasing one another they attain the supreme good. Unless man goes beyond himself and reaches this self, this godhead above, he will not find any real poise, will always swing between individualism and collectivism, he will remain always boundbound either in his freedom or in his bondage.
A commune is a group of individuals having a common self and a common life-intuition. A common self presupposes the realisation by each individual of his deepest being the self which is at once distinct from and instinct with other selves; a common life-intuition presupposes the awakening of each individual to his inmost creative urge, which, pure and true and vast as it is, fulfils itself in and through other creative urges.
A commune, further, is not only a product or final achievement; it is also a process, an instrument to bring about the desired end. A group of individuals come to have a common self and a common life-intuition in and through the commune; and in and through the commune does each individual progress to the realisation of his deepest self and the awakening of his inmost life-intuition.
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As a matter of fact, the individual is not and cannot be such an isolated thing as our egoistic sense would like to have it. The sharp angularities of the individual are being, at every moment, chastened by the very primary conditions of life; and to fail to recognise this is the blindest form of ignorance. It is no easy task to draw exactly the line of distinction between our individual being and our social or communal being. In actual life they are so blended together that in trying to extricate them from each other, we but tear and lacerate them both. The highest wisdom is to take the two together as they are, and by a gradual purifying processboth internal and external, internal in thought and knowledge and will, external in life and actionrestore them to their respective truth and lawSatyam and Ritam.
The individual who leads a severely individual life from the very beginning, whose outlook of the world has been fashioned by that conception, can hardly, if at all, enter at the end the communal life. He must perforce be either a vagabond or a recluse: But the recluse is not an integral man, nor the vagabond an ideal personality. The individual need not be too chaste and shy to associate with others and to give and take as freely and fully as he can. Individuality is not necessarily curtailed or mutilated in this process, but there is this other greater possibility of its getting enlarged and enhanced. Rather it is when you shut yourself up in your own self, that you stick to only one line of your personality, to a single phase of your self and thus limit and diminish yourself; the breadth and height and depth of your self, the cubic completeness of your personality you can attain only through a multiple and variegated stress by which you come in contact with the world and things.
01.06 - Vivekananda, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
These are luminous life-giving mantras and the world and humanity of today, sore distressed and utterly confounded, have great need of them to live them by and be saved.
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01.07 - Blaise Pascal (1623-1662), #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
"The zeal for the Lord hath eaten me up." Such has indeed been the case with Pascal, almost literally. The fire that burned in him was too ardent and vehement for the vehicle, the material instrument, which was very soon used up and reduced to ashes. At twenty-four he was already a broken man, being struck with paralysis and neuras thenia; he died at the comparatively early age of 39, emulating, as it were, the life career of his Lord the Christ who died at 33. The Fire martyrised the body, but kindled and brought forth experiences and realisations that save and truths that abide. It was the Divine Fire whose vision and experience he had on the famous night of 23 November 1654 which brought about his final and definitive conversion. It was the same fire that had blazed up in his brain, while yet a boy, and made him a precocious genius, a marvel of intellectual power in the exact sciences. At 12 this prodigy discovered by himself the 32nd proposition of Euclid, Book I. At sixteen he wrote a treatise on conic sections. At nineteen he invented a calculating machine which, without the help of any mathematical rule or process, gave absolutely accurate results. At twenty-three he published his experiments with vacuum. At twenty-five he conducted the well-known experiment from the tower of St. Jacques, proving the existence of atmospheric pressure. His studies in infinitesimal calculus were remarkably creative and original. And it might be said he was a pioneer in quite a new branch of mathematics, viz., the mathematical theory of probability. We shall see presently how his preoccupation with the mathematics of chance and probability coloured and reinforced his metaphysics and theology.
But the pressure upon his dynamic and heated brain the fiery zeal in his mindwas already proving too much and he was advised medically to take complete rest. Thereupon followed what was known as Pascal's mundane lifea period of distraction and dissipation; but this did not last long nor was it of a serious nature. The inner fire could brook no delay, it was eager and impatient to englobe other fields and domains. Indeed, it turned to its own field the heart. Pascal became initiated into the mystery of Faith and Grace. Still he had to pass through a terrible period of dejection and despair: the life of the world had given him no rest or relaxation, it served only to fill his cup of misery to the brim. But the hour of final relief was not long postponed: the Grace came to him, even as it came to Moses or St. Paul as a sudden flare of fire which burnt up the Dark Night and opened out the portals of Morning Glory.
Pascal's place in the evolution of European culture and consciousness is of considerable significance and importance. He came at a critical time, on the mounting tide of rationalism and scepticism, in an age when the tone and temper of human mentality were influenced and fashioned by Montaigne and Rochefoucauld, by Bacon and Hobbes. Pascal himself, born in such an atmosphere of doubt and disbelief and disillusionment, had sucked in a full dose of that poison; yet he survived and found the Rock of Ages, became the clarion of Faith against Denial. What a spectacle it was! This is what one wrote just a quarter of a century after the death of Pascal:
"They can no longer tell us that it is only small minds that have piety. They are shown how it has grown best in one of the the greatest geometricians, one of the subtlest metaphysicians, one of the most penetrating minds that ever existed on earth. The piety of such a philosopher should make the unbeliever and the libertine declare what a certain Diocles said one day on seeing Epicurus in a temple: 'What a feast, what a spectacle for me to see Epicurus in a temple! All my doubts vainsh, piety takes its place again. I never saw Jupiter's greatness so well as now when I behold Epicurus kneeling down!"1
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One is not sure if such reasoning is convincing to the intellect; but perhaps it is a necessary stage in conversion. At least we can conclude that Pascal had to pass through such a stage; and it indicates the difficulty his brain had to undergo, the tension or even the torture he made it pass through. It is true, from Reason Pascal went over to Faith, even while giving Reason its due. Still it seems the two were not perfectly synthetised or fused in him. There was a gap between that was not thoroughly bridged. Pascal did not possess the higher, intuitive, luminous mind that mediates successfully between the physical discursive ratiocinative brain-mind and the vision of faith: it is because deep in his consciousness there lay this chasm. Indeed,Pascal's abyss (l' abme de Pascal) is a well-known legend. Pascal, it appears, used to have very often the vision of an abyss about to open before him and he shuddered at the prospect of falling into it. It seems to us to be an experience of the Infinity the Infinity to which he was so much attracted and of which he wrote so beautifully (L'infiniment grand et l'infiniment petit)but into which he could not evidently jump overboard unreservedly. This produced a dichotomy, a lack of integration of personality, Jung would say. Pascal's brain was cold, firm, almost rigid; his heart was volcanic, the faith he had was a fire: it lacked something of the pure light and burned with a lurid glare.
And the reason is his metaphysics. It is the Jansenist conception of God and human nature that inspired and coloured all his experience and consciousness. According to it, as according to the Calvinist conception, man is a corrupt being, corroded to the core, original sin has branded his very soul. Only Grace saves him and releases him. The order of sin and the order of Grace are distinct and disparate worlds and yet they complement each other and need each other. Greatness and misery are intertwined, united, unified with each other in him. Here is an echo of the Manichean position which also involves an abyss. But even then God's grace is not a free agent, as Jesuits declare; there is a predestination that guides and controls it. This was one of the main subjects he treated in his famous open letters (Les Provinciales) that brought him renown almost overnight. Eternal hell is a possible prospect that faces the Jansenist. That was why a Night always over-shadowed the Day in Pascal's soul.
Man then, according to Pascal, is by nature a sinful thing. He can lay no claim to noble virtue as his own: all in him is vile, he is a lump of dirt and filth. Even the greatest has his full share of this taint. The greatest, the saintliest, and the meanest, the most sinful, all meet, all are equal on this common platform; all have the same feet of clay. Man is as miserable a creature as a beast, as much a part and product of Nature as a plant. Only there is this difference that an animal or a tree is unconscious, while man knows that he is miserable. This knowledge or perception makes him more miserable, but that is his real and only greatness there is no other. His thought, his self-consciousness, and his sorrow and repentance and contrition for what he is that is the only good partMary's part that has been given to him. Here are Pascal's own words on the subject:
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"The infinite distance of the body from the mind images the distance infinitely more infinite of the mind from Charity (Divine Grace, Faith)."9
"The heart has its reasons which Reason knows not... I say, the heart loves the universal being naturally, and itself also naturally, according to which so ever it gives itself. And it hardens itself against the one or the other according to its choice. You have rejected one and preserved the other. Is it by the reason that you love ?"10
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"La distance infinite des corps aux esprits figure la distance infiniment plus infinie des esprits la charit."
"Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connat point; ... Je dis que Ie coeur aime l'tre universel naturellement, et soi-mme naturellement, selon qu'il s'y donne; et il se durcit contre l'un ou l'autre, son choix. Vous avez rejet l'un et conserv l'autre. Est-ce par raison que vous aimez?"
"Connaissez done, superbe, quel paradoxe vous tes vous-mme. Humiliezvous, raison impuissante: apprenez que l'homme passe infiniment l'homme, et entendez de votre matre votre condition vritable que vous ignorez. coutez Dieu.'.
01.07 - The Bases of Social Reconstruction, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
No doubt this is a most dismal kind of pessimism. But it is the logical conclusion of all optimism that bases itself upon a particular view of human nature. If we question that pessimism, we have to question the very grounds of our optimism also. As a matter of fact, all our idealism has been so long infructuous and will be so in the future, if we do not shift our foundation and start from a different IntuitionWeltanschauung.
Our ideals have been mental constructions, rather than spiritual realitiesrealities of the deepest and highest being. And the power by which we sought to realise those ideals was mainly the insistence of our emotional urges, rather than Nature's Truth-Power. For this must be understood that the mental, the vital and the physical form a nexus of reality which works in its own inexorable law and so long as we are within them we cannot but obey the laws that guide them. Of these three strata which form the human adhara, it is the vital which holds the key to man's nature. It is the executive power, the force that fashions the realities on the physical plane; it is what creates the character. The power of thought and sentiment is often much too exaggerated, even so the power of the body, that of physical and external rules and regulations. The mental or the physical or both together can mould the vital only to a limited extent, to the extent which is allowed by the inherent law of the vital. If the demands of the mental and the physical are stretched too far and are not suffered by the vital, a crash and catastrophe is bound to come in the end.
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What then is required is a complete spiritual regeneration in man, a new structure of his soul and substancenot merely the realisation of the highest and supreme Truth in mental and emotional consciousness, but the translation and application of the law of that truth in the power of the vital. It is here that failed all the great spiritual or rather religious movements of the past. They were content with evoking the divine in the mental being, but left the vital becoming to be governed by the habitual un-divine or at the most to be just illumined by a distant and faint glow which served, however, more to distort than express the Divine.
The Divine Nature only can permanently reform the vital nature that is ours. Neither laws and institutions, which are the results of that vital nature, nor ideas and ideals which are often a mere revolt from and more often an auxiliary to it, can comm and the power to regenerate society. If it is thought improbable for any group of men to attain to that God Nature, then there is hardly any hope for mankind. But improbable or probable, that is the only way which man has to try and test, and there is none other.
01.08 - A Theory of Yoga, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
What is the reason of this elaboration, this check and constraint upon the natural and direct outflow of the animal instincts in man? It has been said that the social life of man, the fact that he has to live and move as member of a group or aggregate has imposed upon him these restrictions. The free and unbridled indulgence of one's bare aboriginal impulses may be possible to creatures that live a separate, solitary and individual life but is disruptive of all bonds necessary for a corporate and group life. It is even a biological necessity again which has evolved in man a third and collateral primary instinct that of the herd. And it is this herd-instinct which naturally and spontaneously restrains, diverts and even metamorphoses the other instincts of the mere animal life. However, leaving aside for the moment the question whether man's ethical and spiritual ideals are a mere dissimulation of his animal instincts or whether they correspond to certain actual realities apart from and co-existent with these latter, we will recognise the simple fact of control and try to have a glimpse into its mechanism.
There are three lines, as the Psycho-analysts point out along which this control or censuring of the primary instincts acts. First, there is the line of Defence Reaction. That is to say, the mind automatically takes up an attitude directly contrary to the impulse, tries to shut it out and deny altogether its existence and the measure of the insistence of the impulse is also the measure of the vehemence of the denial. It is the case of the lady protesting too much. So it happens that where subconsciously there is a strong current of a particular impulse, consciously the mind is obliged to take up a counteracting opposite impulse. Thus in presence of a strong sexual craving the mind as if to guard and save itself engenders by a reflex movement an ascetic and puritanic mood. Similarly a strong unthinking physical attraction translates itself on the conscious plane as an equally strong repulsion.
Secondly, there is the line of Substitution. Here the mind does not stand in an antagonistic and protestant mood to combat and repress the impulse, but seeks to divert it into other channels, use it to other purposes which do not demand equal sacrifice, may even, on the other hand, be considered by the conscious mind as worthy of human pursuit. Thus the energy that normally would seek sexual gratification might find its outlet in the cultivation of art and literature. It is a common thing in novels to find the heroine disappointed in love taking finally to works of charity and beneficence and thus forgetting her disappointment. Another variety of this is what is known as "drowning one's sorrow in drinking."
Thirdly, there is the line of Sublimationit is when the natural impulse is neither repressed nor diverted but lifted up into a higher modality. The thing is given a new sense and a new value which serve to remove the stigma usually attached to it and thus allow its free indulgence. Instances of carnal love sublimated into spiritual union, of passion transmuted into devotion (Bhakti) are common enough to illustrate the point.
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This is the real meaning and sense of the moral struggle in man, the continuous endeavour towards a transvaluation of the primary and aboriginal instincts and impulses. Looked at from one end, from below up the ascending line, man's ethical and spiritual ideals are a dissimulation and sublimation of the animal impulsions. But this is becauseas we see, if we look from the other end, from above down the descending lineman is not all instinct, he is not a mere blind instrument in the hands of Nature forces. He has in him another source, an opposite pole of being from which other impulsions flow and continually modify the structure of the lower levels. If the animal is the foundation of his nature, the divine is its summit. If the bodily demands form his manifest reality, the demands of the spirit enshrine his higher reality. And if as regards the former he is a slave, as regards the latter he is the Master. It is by the interaction of these double forces that his whole nature has been and is being fashioned. Man does not and cannot give carte blanche to his vital, inclinations, since there is a pressure upon them of higher forces coming down from his mental and spiritual levels. It is these latter which have deviated him from the direct line of the pure animal life.
Thus then we may distinguish three types of control on three levels. First, the natural control, secondly the conscious, i.e. to say the mental the ethical and religious control, and thirdly the spiritual or divine control. Now the spirit is the ultimate truth and reality, behind the forces that act in the mind and in the body, so that the natural control and the ethical control are mere attempts to establish and realise the spiritual control. The animal impulses feel the hidden stress of the divine urges that are their real essence and thus there rises first an unconscious conflict in the natural life and then a conscious conflict in the higher ethical life. But when both of these are transcended and the conflict is carried on to a still higher level, then do we find their real significance and arrive at the consummation to which they move. Yoga is the ultimate transvaluation of physical (and of moral) values, it is the trans-substantiation of life-power into its spiritual substance.
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01.08 - Walter Hilton: The Scale of Perfection, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Here is the Augustinian mantra taken as the motto of The Scale of Perfection: We ascend the ascending grades in our heart and we sing the song of ascension1. The journey's end is heavenly Jerusalem, the House of the Lord. The steps of this inner ascension are easily visible, not surely to the outer eye of the sense-burdened man, but to the "ghostly seeing" of the aspirant which is hazy in the beginning but slowly clears as he advances. The first step is the withdrawal from the outer senses and looking and seeing within. "Turn home again in thyself, and hold thee within and beg no more without." The immediate result is a darkness and a restless darknessit is a painful night. The outer objects of attraction and interest have been discarded, but the inner attachments and passions surge there still. If, however, one continues and persists, refuses to be drawn out, the turmoil settles down and the darkness begins to thin and wear away. One must not lose heart, one must have patience and perseverance. So when the outward world is no more-there and its call also no longer awakes any echo in us, then comes the stage of "restful darkness" or "light-some darkness". But it is still the dark Night of the soul. The outer light is gone and the inner light is not yet visible: the night, the desert, the great Nought, stretches between these two lights. But the true seeker goes through and comes out of the tunnel. And there is happiness at the end. "The seeking is travaillous, but the finding is blissful." When one steps out of the Night, enters into the deepest layer of the being, one stands face to face to one's soul, the very image of God, the perfect God-man, the Christ within. That is the third degree of our inner ascension, the entry into the deepest, purest and happiest statein which one becomes what he truly is; one finds the Christ there and dwells in love and union with him. But there is still a further step to take, and that is real ascension. For till now it has been a going within, from the outward to the inner and the inmost; now one has to go upward, transcend. Within the body, in life, however deep you may go, even if you find your soul and your union with Jesus whose tabernacle is your soul, still there is bound to remain a shadow of the sinful prison-house; the perfect bliss and purity without any earthly taint, the completeness and the crowning of the purgation and transfiguration can come only when you go beyond, leaving altogether the earthly form and worldly vesture and soar into Heaven itself and be in the company of the Trinity. "Into myself, and after... above myself by overpassing only into Him." At the same time it is pointed out, this mediaeval mystic has the common sense to see that the going in and going above of which one speaks must not be understood in a literal way, it is a figure of speech. The movement of the mystic is psychological"ghostly", it is saidnot physical or carnal.
This spiritual march or progress can also be described as a growing into the likeness of the Lord. His true self, his own image is implanted within us; he is there in the profoundest depth of our being as Jesus, our beloved and our soul rests in him in utmost bliss. We are aware neither of Jesus nor of his spouse, our soul, because of the obsession of the flesh, the turmoil raised by the senses, the blindness of pride and egoism. All that constitutes the first or old Adam, the image of Nought, the body of death which means at bottom the "false misruled love in to thyself." This self-love is the mother of sin, is sin itself. What it has to be replaced by is charity that is the true meaning of Christian charity, forgetfulness of self. "What is sin but a wanting and a forbearing of God." And the whole task, the discipline consists in "the shaping of Christ in you, the casting of sin through Christ." Who then is Christ, what is he? This knowledge you get as you advance from your sense-bound perception towards the inner and inmost seeing. As your outer nature gets purified, you approach gradually your soul, the scales fall off from your eyes too and you have the knowledge and "ghostly vision." Here too there are three degrees; first, you start with faith the senses can do nothing better than have faith; next, you rise to imagination which gives a sort of indirect touch or inkling of the truth; finally, you have the "understanding", the direct vision. "If he first trow it, he shall afterwards through grace feel it, and finally understand it."
It is never possible for man, weak and bound as he is, to reject the thraldom of his flesh, he can never purify himself wholly by his own unaided strength. God in his infinite mercy sent his own son, an emanation created out of his substancehis embodied loveas a human being to suffer along with men and take upon himself the burden of their sins. God the Son lived upon earth as man and died as man. Sin therefore has no longer its final or definitive hold upon mankind. Man has been made potentially free, pure and worthy of salvation. This is the mystery of Christ, of God the Son. But there is a further mystery. Christ not only lived for all men for all time, whether they know him, recognise him or not; but he still lives, he still chooses his beloved and his beloved chooses him, there is a conscious acceptance on either side. This is the function of the Holy Ghost, the redeeming power of Love active in him who accepts it and who is accepted by it, the dynamic Christ-Consciousness in the true Christian.
Indeed, the kernel of the mystic discipline and its whole bearingconsists in one and only one principle: to love Jhesu. All roads lead to Rome: all preparations, all trials lead to one realisation, love of God, God as a living person close to us, our friend and lover and master. The Christian mystic speaks almost in the terms of the Gita: Rise above your senses, give up your ego-hood, be meek and humble, it is Jesus within you, who embraces your soul: it is he who does everything for you and in you, give yourself up wholly into his hands. He will deliver you.
The characteristic then of the path is a one-pointed concentration. Great stress is laid upon "oneliness", "onedness":that is to say, a perfect and complete withdrawal from the outside and the world; an unmixed solitude is required for the true experience and realisation to come. "A full forsaking in will of the soul for the love of Him, and a living of the heart to Him. This asks He, for this gave He." The rigorous exclusion, the uncompromising asceticism, the voluntary self-torture, the cruel dark night and the arid desert are necessary conditions that lead to the "onlyness of soul", what another prophet (Isaiah, XXIV, 16) describes as "My privity to me". In that secreted solitude, the "onlistead"the graphic language of the author calls itis found "that dignity and that ghostly fairness which a soul had by kind and shall have by grace." The utter beauty of the soul and its absolute love for her deity within her (which has the fair name of Jhesu), the exclusive concentration of the whole of the being upon one point, the divine core, the manifest Grace of God, justifies the annihilation of the world and life's manifold existence. Indeed, the image of the Beloved is always within, from the beginning to the end. It is that that keeps one up in the terrible struggle with one's nature and the world. The image depends upon the consciousness which we have at the moment, that is to say, upon the stage or the degree we have ascended to. At the outset, when we can only look through the senses, when the flesh is our master, we give the image a crude form and character; but even that helps. Gradually, as we rise, with the clearing of our nature, the image too slowly regains its original and true shape. Finally, in the inmost soul we find Jesus as he truly is: "an unchangeable being, a sovereign might, a sovereign soothfastness, sovereign goodness, a blessed life and endless bliss." Does not the Gita too say: "As one approaches Me, so do I appear to him."Ye yath mm prapadyante.
Indeed, it would be interesting to compare and contrast the Eastern and Western approach to Divine Love, the Christian and the Vaishnava, for example. Indian spirituality, whatever its outer form or credal formulation, has always a background of utter unity. This unity, again, is threefold or triune and is expressed in those great Upanishadic phrases,mahvkyas,(1) the transcendental unity: the One alone exists, there is nothing else than theOneekamevdvityam; (2) the cosmic unity: all existence is one, whatever exists is that One, thereare no separate existences:sarvam khalvidam brahma neha nnsti kincaa; (3) That One is I, you too are that One:so' ham, tattvamasi; this may be called the individual unity. As I have said, all spiritual experiences in India, of whatever school or line, take for granted or are fundamentally based upon this sense of absolute unity or identity. Schools of dualism or pluralism, who do not apparently admit in their tenets this extreme monism, are still permeated in many ways with that sense and in some form or other take cognizance of the truth of it. The Christian doctrine too says indeed, 'I and my Father in Heaven are one', but this is not identity, but union; besides, the human soul is not admitted into this identity, nor the world soul. The world, we have seen, according to the Christian discipline has to be altogether abandoned, negatived, as we go inward and upward towards our spiritual status reflecting the divine image in the divine company. It is a complete rejection, a cutting off and casting away of world and life. One extreme Vedantic path seems to follow a similar line, but there it is not really rejection, but a resolution, not the rejection of what is totally foreign and extraneous, but a resolution of the external into its inner and inmost substance, of the effect into its original cause. Brahman is in the world, Brahman is the world: the world has unrolled itself out of the Brahmansi, pravttiit has to be rolled back into its, cause and substance if it is to regain its pure nature (that is the process of nivitti). Likewise, the individual being in the world, "I", is the transcendent being itself and when it withdraws, it withdraws itself and the whole world with it and merges into the Absolute. Even the Maya of the Mayavadin, although it is viewed as something not inherent in Brahman but superimposed upon Brahman, still, has been accepted as a peculiar power of Brahman itself. The Christian doctrine keeps the individual being separate practically, as an associate or at the most as an image of God. The love for one's neighbour, charity, which the Christian discipline enjoins is one's love for one's kind, because of affinity of nature and quality: it does not dissolve the two into an integral unity and absolute identity, where we love because we are one, because we are the One. The highest culmination of love, the very basis of love, according to the Indian conception, is a transcendence of love, love trans-muted into Bliss. The Upanishad says, where one has become the utter unity, who loves whom? To explain further our point, we take two examples referred to in the book we are considering. The true Christian, it is said, loves the sinner too, he is permitted to dislike sin, for he has to reject it, but he must separate from sin the sinner and love him. Why? Because the sinner too can change and become his brother in spirit, one loves the sinner because there is the possibility of his changing and becoming a true Christian. It is why the orthodox Christian, even such an enlightened and holy person as this mediaeval Canon, considers the non-Christian, the non-baptised as impure and potentially and fundamentally sinners. That is also why the Church, the physical organisation, is worshipped as Christ's very body and outside the Church lies the pagan world which has neither religion nor true spirituality nor salvation. Of course, all this may be symbolic and it is symbolic in a sense. If Christianity is taken to mean true spirituality, and the Church is equated with the collective embodiment of that spirituality, all that is claimed on their behalf stands justified. But that is an ideal, a hypothetical standpoint and can hardly be borne out by facts. However, to come back to our subject, let us ow take the second example. Of Christ himself, it is said, he not only did not dislike or had any aversion for Judas, but that he positively loved the traitor with a true and sincere love. He knew that the man would betray him and even when he was betraying and had betrayed, the Son of Man continued to love him. It was no make-believe or sham or pretence. It was genuine, as genuine as anything can be. Now, why did he love his enemy? Because, it is said, the enemy is suffered by God to do the misdeed: he has been allowed to test the faith of the faithful, he too has his utility, he too is God's servant. And who knows even a Judas would not change in the end? Many who come to scoff do remain to pray. But it can be asked, 'Does God love Satan too in the same way?' The Indian conception which is basically Vedantic is different. There is only one reality, one truth which is viewed differently. Whether a thing is considered good or evil or neutral, essentially and truly, it is that One and nothing else. God's own self is everywhere and the sage makes no difference between the Brahmin and the cow and the elephant. It is his own self he finds in every person and every objectsarvabhtsthitam yo mm bhajati ekatvamsthitah"he has taken his stand upon oneness and loves Me in all beings."2
This will elucidate another point of difference between the Christian's and the Vaishnava's love of God, for both are characterised by an extreme intensity and sweetness and exquisiteness of that divine feeling. This Christian's, however, is the union of the soul in its absolute purity and simplicity and "privacy" with her lord and master; the soul is shred here of all earthly vesture and goes innocent and naked into the embrace of her Beloved. The Vaishnava feeling is richer and seems to possess more amplitude; it is more concrete and less ethereal. The Vaishnava in his passionate yearning seeks to carry as it were the whole world with him to his Lord: for he sees and feels Him not only in the inmost chamber of his soul, but meets Him also in and I through his senses and in and through the world and its objects around. In psychological terms one can say that the Christian realisation, at its very source, is that of the inmost soul, what we call the "psychic being" pure and simple, referred to in the book we are considering; as: "His sweet privy voice... stirreth thine heart full stilly." Whereas the Vaishnava reaches out to his Lord with his outer heart too aflame with passion; not only his inmost being but his vital being also seeks the Divine. This bears upon the occult story of man's spiritual evolution upon earth. The Divine Grace descends from the highest into the deepest and from the deepest to the outer ranges of human nature, so that the whole of it may be illumined and transformed and one day man can embody in his earthly life the integral manifestation of God, the perfect Epiphany. Each religion, each line of spiritual discipline takes up one limb of manone level or mode of his being and consciousness purifies it and suffuses it with the spiritual and divine consciousness, so that in the end the whole of man, in his integral living, is recast and remoulded: each discipline is in charge of one thread as it were, all together weave the warp and woof in the evolution of the perfect pattern of a spiritualised and divinised humanity.
The conception of original sin is a cardinal factor in Christian discipline. The conception, of sinfulness is the very motive-power that drives the aspirant. "Seek tensely," it is said, "sorrow and sigh deep, mourn still, and stoop low till thine eye water for anguish and for pain." Remorse and grief are necessary attendants; the way of the cross is naturally the calvary strewn with pain and sorrow. It is the very opposite of what is termed the "sunlit path" in spiritual ascension. Christian mystics have made a glorious spectacle of the process of "dying to the world." Evidently, all do not go the whole length. There are less gloomy and happier temperaments, like the present one, for example, who show an unusual balance, a sturdy common sense even in the midst of their darkest nights, who have chalked out as much of the sunlit path as is possible in this line. Thus this old-world mystic says: it is true one must see and admit one's sinfulness, the grosser and apparent and more violent ones as well as all the subtle varieties of it that are in you or rise up in you or come from the Enemy. They pursue you till the very end of your journey. Still you need not feel overwhelmed or completely desperate. Once you recognise the sin in you, even the bare fact of recognition means for you half the victory. The mystic says, "It is no sin as thou feelest them." The day Jesus gave himself away on the Cross, since that very day you are free, potentially free from the bondage of sin. Once you give your adherence to Him, the Enemies are rendered powerless. "They tease the soul, but they harm not the soul". Or again, as the mystic graphically phrases it: "This soul is not borne in this image of sin as a sick man, though he feel it; but he beareth it." The best way of dealing with one's enemies is not to struggle and "strive with them." The aspirant, the lover of Jesus, must remember: "He is through grace reformed to the likeness of God ('in the privy substance of his soul within') though he neither feel it nor see it."
If you are told you are still full of sins and you are not worthy to follow the path, that you must go and work out your sins first, here is your answer: "Go shrive thee better: trow not this saying, for it is false, for thou art shriven. Trust securely that thou art on the way, and thee needeth no ransacking of shrift for that that is passed, hold forth thy way and think on Jerusalem." That is to say, do not be too busy with the difficulties of the moment, but look ahead, as far as possible, fix your attention upon the goal, the intermediate steps will become easy. Jerusalem is another name of the Love of Jesus or the Bliss in Heaven. Grow in this love, your sins will fade away of themselves. "Though thou be thrust in an house with thy body, nevertheless in thine heart, where the stead of love is, thou shouldst be able to have part of that love... " What exquisite utterance, what a deep truth!
Indeed, there are one or two points, notes for the guidance of the aspirant, which I would like to mention here for their striking appositeness and simple "soothfastness." First of all with regard to the restless enthusiasm and eagerness of a novice, here is the advice given: "The fervour is so mickle in outward showing, is not only for mickleness of love that they have; but it is for littleness and weakness of their souls, that they may not bear a little touching of God.. afterward when love hath boiled out all the uncleanliness, then is the love clear and standeth still, and then is both the body and the soul mickle more in peace, and yet hath the self soul mickle more love than it had before, though it shew less outward." And again: "without any fervour outward shewed, and the less it thinketh that it loveth or seeth God, the nearer it nigheth" ('it' naturally refers to the soul). The statement is beautifully self-luminous, no explanation is required. Another hurdle that an aspirant has to face often in the passage through the Dark Night is that you are left all alone, that you are deserted by your God, that the Grace no longer favours you. Here is however the truth of the matter; "when I fall down to my frailty, then Grace withdraweth: for my falling is cause there-of, and not his fleeing." In fact, the Grace never withdraws, it is we who withdraw and think otherwise. One more difficulty that troubles the beginner especially is with regard to the false light. The being of darkness comes in the form of the angel of light, imitates the tone of the still small voice; how to recognise, how to distinguish the two? The false light, the "feigned sun" is always found "atwixt two black rainy clouds" : they are "highing" of oneself and "lowing" of others. When you feel flattered and elated, beware it is the siren voice tempting you. The true light brings you soothing peace and meekness: the other light brings always a trail of darknessf you are soothfast and sincere you will discover it if not near you, somewhere at a distance lurking.
The ultimate truth is that God is the sole doer and the best we can do is to let him do freely without let or hindrance. "He that through Grace may see Jhesu, how that He doth all and himself doth right nought but suffereth Jhesu work in him what him liketh, he is meek." And yet one does not arrive at that condition from the beginning or all at once. "The work is not of the hour nor of a day, but of many days and years." And for a long time one has to take up one's burden and work, co-operate with the Divine working. In the process there is this double movement necessary for the full achievement. "Neither Grace only without full working of a soul that in it is nor working done without grace bringeth a soul to reforming but that one joined to that other." Mysticism is not all eccentricity and irrationality: on the contrary, sanity seems to be the very character of the higher mysticism. And it is this sanity, and even a happy sense of humour accompanying it, that makes the genuine mystic teacher say: "It is no mastery to me for to say it, but for to do it there is mastery." Amen.
01.09 - The Parting of the Way, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
To remain human means to continue the fundamental nature of man. In what consists the humanity of man? We can ascertain it by distinguishing what forms the animality of the animal, since that will give us the differentia that nature has evolved to raise man over the animal. The animal, again, has a characteristic differentiating it from the vegetable world, which latter, in its turn, has something to mark it off from the inorganic world. The inorganic, the vegetable, the animal and finally manthese are the four great steps of Nature's evolutionary course.
The differentia, in each case, lies in the degree and nature of consciousness, since it is consciousness that forms the substance and determines the mode of being. Now, the inorganic is characterised by un-consciousness, the vegetable by sub-consciousness, the animal by consciousness and man by self-consciousness. Man knows that he knows, an animal only knows; a plant does not even know, it merely feels or senses; matter cannot do that even, it simply acts or rather is acted upon. We are not concerned here, however, with the last two forms of being; we will speak of the first two only.
We say, then, that man is distinguished from the animal by his having consciousness as it has, but added to it the consciousness of self. Man acts and feels and knows as much as the animal does; but also he knows that he acts, he knows that he feels, he knows that he knowsand this is a thing the animal cannot do. It is the awakening of the sense of self in every mode of being that characterises man, and it is owing to this consciousness of an ego behind, of a permanent unit of reference, which has modified even the functions of knowing and feeling and acting, has refashioned them in a mould which is not quite that of the animal, in spite of a general similarity.
So the humanity of man consists in his consciousness of the self or ego. Is there no other higher mode of consciousness? Or is self-consciousness the acme, the utmost limit to which consciousness can raise itself? If it is so, then we are bound to conclude that humanity will remain eternally human in its fundamental nature; the only progress, if progress at all we choose to call it, will consist perhaps in accentuating this consciousness of the self and in expressing it through a greater variety of stresses, through a richer combination of its colour and light and shade and rhythm. But also, this may not be sothere may be the possibility of a further step, a transcending of the consciousness of the self. It seems unnatural and improbable that having risen from un-consciousness to self-consciousness through a series of continuous marches, Nature should suddenly stop and consider what she had achieved to be her final end. Has Nature become bankrupt of her creative genius, exhausted of her upward drive? Has she to remain content with only a clever manipulation, a mere shuffling and re-arranging of the materials already produced?
As a matter of fact it is not so. The glimpses of a higher form of consciousness we can see even now present in self-consciousness. We have spoken of the different stages of evolution as if they were separate and distinct and incommensurate entities. They may be described as such for the purpose of a logical understanding, but in reality they form a single progressive continuum in which one level gradually fuses into another. And as the higher level takes up the law of the lower and evolves out of it a characteristic function, even so the law of the higher level with its characteristic function is already involved and envisaged in the law of the lower level and its characteristic function. It cannot be asserted positively that because man's special virtue is self-consciousness, animals cannot have that quality on any account. We do see, if we care to observe closely and dispassionately, that animals of the higher order, as they approach the level of humanity, show more and more evident signs of something which is very much akin to, if not identical with the human characteristic of self-consciousness.
So, in man also, especially of that order which forms the crown of humanityin poets and artists and seers and great men of actioncan be observed a certain characteristic form of consciousness, which is something other than, greater than the consciousness of the mere self. It is difficult as yet to characterise definitely what that thing is. It is the awakening of the self to something which is beyond itselfit is the cosmic self, the oversoul, the universal being; it is God, it is Turiya, it is sachchidanandain so many ways the thing has been sought to be envisaged and expressed. The consciousness of that level has also a great variety of names given to it Intuition, Revelation, cosmic consciousness, God-consciousness. It is to be noted here, however, that the thing we are referring to, is not the Absolute, the Infinite, the One without a second. It is not, that is to say, the supreme Reality the Brahmanin its static being, in its undivided and indivisible unity; it is the dynamic Brahman, that status of the supreme Reality where creation, the diversity of Becoming takes rise, it is the Truth-worldRitam the domain of typal realities. The distinction is necessary, as there does seem to be such a level of consciousness intermediary, again, between man and the Absolute, between self-consciousness and the supreme consciousness. The simplest thing would be to give that intermediate level of consciousness a negative namesince being as yet human we cannot foresee exactly its composition and function the super-consciousness.
The inflatus of something vast and transcendent, something which escapes all our familiar schemes of cognisance and yet is insistent with a translucent reality of its own, we do feel sometimes within us invading and enveloping our individuality, lifting up our sense of self and transmuting our personality into a reality which can hardly be called merely human. All this life of ego-bound rationality then melts away and opens out the passage for a life of vision and power. Thus it is the poet has felt when he says, "there is this incalculable element in human life influencing us from the mystery which envelops our being, and when reason is satisfied, there is something deeper than Reason which makes us still uncertain of truth. Above the human reason there is a transcendental sphere to which the spirit of men sometimes rises, and the will may be forged there at a lordly smithy and made the unbreakable pivot."(A.E.)
01.09 - William Blake: The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
The ideal was Blake's. It will not sound so revolting if we understand what the poet meant by Hell. Hell, he explains, is simply the body, the Energy of Lifehell, because body and life on earth were so considered by the orthodox Christianity. The Christian ideal demands an absolute denial and rejection of life. Fulfilment is elsewhere, in heaven alone. That is, as we know, the ideal of the ascetic. The life of the spirit (in heaven) is a thing away from and stands against the life of the flesh (on earth). In the face of this discipline, countering it, Blake posited a union, a marriage of the two, considered incompatibles and incommensurables. Enfant terrible that he was, he took an infinite delight in a spirit of contradiction and went on expatiating on the glory of the misalliance. He declared a new apocalypse and said that Lucifer, the one called Satan, was the real God, the so-called Messiah the fake one: the apparent Milton spoke in praise of God and in dispraise of Satan, but the real, the esoteric Milton glorified Satan, who is the true God and minimised or caricatured the counterfeit or shadow God. Here is Blakean Bible in a nutshell:
But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul is to be expunged.. . . If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth.
--
Touching the very core of the malady of our age he says that our modern enlightenment seeks to cancel altogether the higher values and install instead the lower alone as true. Thus, for example, Marx and Freud, its twin arch priests, are brothers. Both declare that it is the lower, the under layer alone that matters: to one "the masses", to the other "the instincts". Their wild imperative roars: "Sweep away this pseudo-higher; let the instincts rule, let the pro-letariat dictate!" But more characteristic, Monsieur Thibon has made another discovery which gives the whole value and speciality to his outlook. He says the moderns stress the lower, no doubt; but the old world stressed only the higher and neglected the lower. Therefore the revolt and wrath of the lower, the rage of Revanche in the heart of the dispossessed in the modern world. Enlightenment meant till now the cultivation and embellishment of the Mind, the conscious Mind, the rational and nobler faculties, the height and the depth: and mankind meant the princes and the great ones. In the individual, in the scheme of his culture and education, the senses were neglected, left to go their own way as they pleased; and in the collective field, the toiling masses in the same way lived and moved as best as they could under the economics of laissez-faire. So Monsieur Thibon concludes: "Salvation has never come from below. To look for it from above only is equally vain. No doubt salvation must come from the higher, but on condition that the higher completely adopts and protects the lower." Here is a vision luminous and revealing, full of great import, if we follow the right track, prophetic of man's true destiny. It is through this infiltration of the higher into the lower and the integration of the lower into the higher that mankind will reach the goal of its evolution, both individually and collectively.
But the process, Monsieur Thibon rightly asserts, must begin with the individual and within the individual. Man must "turn within, feel alive within himself", re-establish his living contact with God, the source and origin from which he has cut himself off. Man must learn to subordinate having to being. Each individual must be himself, a free and spontaneous expression. Upon such individual , upon individuals grouped naturally in smaller collectivities and not upon unformed or ill-formed wholesale masses can a perfect human society be raised and will be raised. Monsieur Thibon insistsand very rightlyupon the variety and diversity of individual and local growths in a unified humanity and not a dead uniformity of regimented oneness. He declares, as the reviewer of the London Times succinctly puts it: "Let us abolish our insensate worship of number. Let us repeal the law of majorities. Let us work for the unity that draws together instead of idolizing the multiplicity that disintegrates. Let us understand that it is not enough for each to have a place; what matters is that each should be in his right place. For the atomized society let us substitute an organic society, one in which every man will be free to do what he alone is qualified and able to do."
So far so good. For it is not far enough. The being or becoming that is demanded in fulfilment of the divine advent in humanity must go to the very roots of life and nature, must seize God in his highest and sovereign status. No prejudice of the past, no notion of our mental habits must seek to impose its law. Thus, for example, in the matter of redeeming the senses by the influx of the higher light, our author seems to consider that the senses will remain more or less as they are, only they will be controlled, guided, used by the higher light. And he seems to think that even the sex relation (even the institution of marriage) may continue to remain, but sublimated, submitted to the laws of the Higher Order. This, according to us, is a dangerous compromise and is simply the imposition of the lower law upon the higher. Our view of the total transformation and divinisation of the Lower is altogether different. The Highest must come down wholly and inhabit in the Lowest, the Lowest must give up altogether its own norms and lift itself into the substance and form too of the Highest.
0.10 - Letters to a Young Captain, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
quite confidently. Not one of them disturbed me nor
did I disturb them. When I reached the Playground, I
started talking to a friend. Suddenly he jumped back
--
that people will discover my ignorance. Why am I like
that? And how can I come out of it?
--
reactions must disappear.
20 November 1961
--
We have had a discussion among friends about the
problem and various possible methods of physical education. The fundamental problem is this: how can we
--
It is impossible. Each one has his own taste and his own temperament. Nothing can be done without discipline - the whole of
life is a discipline.
20 September 1962
--
(Regarding a threat by China to occupy disputed borderland in northern Kashmir and northeastern India)
Sometimes I have the impression that our leaders do not
seem to have the sort of backbone displayed by Kennedy
with his decision about Cuba.
--
In a discussion with a friend about our physical
education programme and the countless other activities we have here, he asked me: "Can you give me a
--
Besides, who is perfectly disinterested? One should not pretend to be what one is not. It is better to be frank than hypocritical.
12 April 1963
--
immediately to dispel my psychological pain. For something tells me: "All that happens is done for your own
good and is done by the Divine Grace." Is it good, is it
--
Girls are always at a disadvantage: they cannot do
what they want, as boys can.
--
that nothing could ever discourage him. For even after
having lost both legs in an accident, he vowed that he
--
Would it not be better to have a basic discipline here
instead of so much freedom, a freedom we are not able
--
thought) against the very little discipline that is demanded when
it is utterly in dispensable, as in physical education, for example.
--
It is probably a kind of inner discretion; it is rather a good
sign, because this kind of discretion comes from the psychic
consciousness which would rather give than ask.
--
and deeper consciousness which can discern the true causes of
reactions and feelings.
--
only by discovering one's psychic being and uniting with it.
22 September 1963
--
those. Will You take me and discipline me?
My child, that is exactly what I have been trying to do for quite
--
It is with that disciplinary aim that I asked you to write one
single sentence a day - it did not have to be long, but it ought
--
To discipline one's life is not easy, even for those who are
strong, severe with themselves, courageous and enduring.
But before trying to discipline one's whole life, one should
at least try to discipline one activity, and persist until one succeeds.
13 October 1963
--
ways of disguising itself in us. How can one discover it
and get rid of it?
--
A sadhak is one who has chosen a yogic discipline and
practises it. There are desireless men who are not pursuing any
--
Just as there are tangible and concrete bodily exercises and disciplines for physical culture, is there not
something tangible and concrete for the progress of the
--
its own discipline in all its details. All that can be studied, learned
and practised. But according to Sri Aurobindo's teaching, each
--
integral yoga to find their own discipline, based on the ancient
knowledge but adapted to the needs and the condition of each
--
This means that you are not yet ready for a spiritual discipline
and that you must wait until life has moulded you a little more
--
Until I am ready for a spiritual discipline, what
should I do, apart from aspiring that the Mother may
--
during my working hours. I dispel it immediately by
reasoning, but all the same its effect remains and makes
--
The best thing to do is to distinguish in oneself the origin of all
one's movements - those that come from the light of truth and
--
With practice one learns to distinguish more and more
clearly, but one can establish as a general rule that all that
tends towards disharmony, disorder and inertia comes from
the falsehood and all that favours union, harmony, order and
--
faults and because we disobey the Supreme Truth in our
daily lives?
--
The experience must come first and the explanation afterwards. That is why Sri Aurobindo has said: Never distrust your
experience; but you may distrust your explanation, which is a
mental activity.19
--
How can one distinguish a dream from an experience?
In a general way, a dream leaves a confused and fleeting impression, whereas an experience awakens a deep and lasting
--
from bias and preference) that one gradually learns to discern
the one from the other.
--
and state thy experience intellectually and even then distrust thy statement; but distrust
never thy experience."
--
ought to disappear, one must strongly feel one's unworthiness
and incapacity to express the divine perfection.
--
the divine consciousness? Am I completely disinterested in this
matter? Am I free of all desire and all ego?"
--
method or discipline to be followed?
Everything is possible. All paths lead to the goal provided they
--
is a question of equilibrium or disequilibrium, of harmony or
disorder. Vibrations of harmony attract and encourage harmonious events; vibrations of disequilibrium create, as it were, a
disequilibrium in circumstances (illnesses, accidents, etc.). This
--
and energy. Where does this disharmony come from and
when will it be set right?
--
Each one carries in himself the seeds of this disharmony,
and his most urgent work is to purify himself of it by a constant
--
a sort of disequilibrium and chaos. Does this mean that
it is preparing for the manifestation of a new force, for
--
It is an interesting discovery.
19 April 1966
--
have here, is the moral constraint of an external discipline.
Here one is free and the only constraint is the one that one
--
which is causing disorder, confusion and falsehood to spring
up everywhere in a refusal to be transformed.
--
How can one practise yogic disciplines without believing in God or the Divine?31
Why? It is very easy. Because these are only words. When one
--
her and throw her into the Ganges because they were displeased
with her. If one believes in the Divine, one cannot do things like
--
it is the Divine under a certain aspect - a rather distorted one,
but still...
--
oneself into activity, the mental disturbance begins again!
One can have a quiet mind without being in a complete state
of silence; one can carry on an activity without being disturbed.
The ideal is to be able to act without coming out of the mental
--
is coordinated and disciplined, the protection acts. But when an
individual acts independently, the protection acts only in the
--
Sincerity, courage, discipline, endurance, absolute faith in the
Divine work and unshakable trust in the Divine Grace. All
--
conscience, who has lost it by having disregarded it too
often?
--
which can quite easily take possession of one who has disregarded the advice of his conscience.
But all this is a mental approximation of the Truth. It is not
--
The other day I had a discussion with X about Sri
Aurobindo's Action. He said that had there been an enlightened person like Vivekananda, the work could have
--
with the instruments She has at her disposal. Finally he
told me that he had no opinion on the subject. "My
01.10 - Nicholas Berdyaev: God Made Human, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
There is another aspect of personality as viewed by Berdyaev which involves a bias of the more orthodox Christian faith: the Christ is inseparable from the Cross. So he says: "There is no such thing as personality if there is no capacity for suffering. Suffering is inherent in God too, if he is a personality, and not merely an abstract idea. God shares in the sufferings of men. He yearns for responsive love. There are divine as well as human passions and therefore divine or creative personality must always suffer to the end of time. A condition of anguish and distress is inherent in it." The view is logically enforced upon the Christian, it is said, if he is to accept incarnation, God becoming flesh. Flesh cannot but be weak. This very weakness, so human, is and must be specially characteristic of God also, if he is one with man and his lover and saviour.
Eastern spirituality does not view sorrow and sufferingevilas an integral part of the Divine Consciousness. It is born out of the Divine, no doubt, as nothing can be outside the Divine, but it is a local and temporal formation; it is a disposition consequent upon certain conditions and with the absence or elimination of those conditions, this disposition too disappears. God and the Divine Consciousness can only be purity, light, immortality and delight. The compassion that a Buddha feels for the suffering humanity is not at all a feeling of suffering; pain or any such normal human reaction does not enter into its composition; it is the movement of a transcendent consciousness which is beyond and purified of the normal reactions, yet overarching them and entering into them as a soothing and illumining and vivifying presence. The healer knows and understands the pain and suffering of his patient but is not touched by them; he need not contract the illness of his patient in order to be in sympathy with him. The Divine the Soulcan be in flesh and yet not smirched with its mire; the flesh is not essentially or irrevocably the ooze it is under certain given conditions. The divine physical body is composed of radiant matter and one can speak of it even as of the soul that weapons cannot pierce it nor can fire burn it.
***
01.10 - Principle and Personality, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Religious bodies that are formed through the bhakti and puja for one man, social reconstructions forced by the will and power of a single individual, have already in the inception this grain of incapacity and disease and death that they are not an integrally self-conscious creation, they are not, as a whole, intelligent and wide awake and therefore constantly responsive to the truths and ideals and realities for which they exist, for which at least, their founder intended them to exist. The light at the apex is the only light and the entire structure is but the shadow of that light; the whole thing has the aspect of a dark mass galvanised into red-hot activity by the passing touch of a dynamo. Immediately however the solitary light fails and the dynamo stops, there is nothing but the original darkness and inertiatoma asit tamasa gudham agre.
Man, however great and puissant he may be, is a perishable thing. People who gather or are gathered round a man and cling to him through the tie of a personal relation must fall off and scatter when the man passes away and the personal tie loses its hold. What remains is a memory, a gradually fading memory. But memory is hardly a creative force, it is a dead, at best, a moribund thing; the real creative power is Presence. So when the great man's presence, the power that crystallises is gone, the whole edifice crumbles and vanishes into air or remains a mere name.
--
We do not speak like politicians or banias; but the very truth of the matter demands such a policy or line of action. It is very well to talk of principles and principles alone, but what are principles unless they take life and form in a particular individual? They are airy nothings, notions in the brain of logicians and metaphysicians, fit subjects for discussion in the academy, but they are devoid of that vital urge which makes them creative agencies. We have long lines of philosophers, especially European, who most scrupulously avoided all touch of personalities, whose utmost care was to keep principles pure and unsullied; and the upshot was that those principles remained principles only, barren and infructuous, some thing like, in the strong and puissant phrase of BaudelaireLa froide majest de la femme strile. And on the contrary, we have had other peoples, much addicted to personalitiesespecially in Asiawho did not care so much for abstract principles as for concrete embodiments; and what has been the result here? None can say that they did not produce anything or produced only still-born things. They produced living creaturesephemeral, some might say, but creatures that lived and moved and had their days.
But, it may be asked, what is the necessity, what is the purpose in making it all a one man show? Granting that principles require personalities for their fructuation and vital functioning, what remains to be envisaged is not one personality but a plural personality, the people at large, as many individuals of the human race as can be consciously imbued with those principles. When principles are made part and parcel of, are concentrated in a single solitary personality, they get "cribbed and cabined," they are vitiated by the idiosyncrasies of the man, they come to have a narrower field of application; they are emptied of the general verities they contain and finally cease to have any effect.
01.11 - Aldous Huxley: The Perennial Philosophy, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
"To its heights we can always come. For those of us who are still splashing about in the lower ooze, the phrase has a rather ironical ring. Nevertheless, in the light of even the most distant acquaintance with the heights and the fullness, it is possible to understand what its author means. To discover the Kingdom of God exclusively within oneself is easier than to discover it, not only there, but also in the outer worlds of minds and things and living creatures. It is easier because the heights within reveal themselves to those who are ready to exclude from their purview all that lies without. And though this exclusion may be a painful and mortificatory process, the fact remains that it is less arduous than the process of inclusion, by which we come to know the fullness as well as the heights of spiritual life. Where there is exclusive concentration on the heights within, temptations and distractions are avoided and there is a general denial and suppression. But when the hope is to know God inclusivelyto realise the divine Ground in the world as well as in the soul, temptations and distractions must not be avoided, but submitted to and used as opportunities for advance; there must be no suppression of outward-turning activities, but a transformation of them so that they become sacramental."
The neatness of the commentary cannot be improved upon. Only with regard to the "ironical ring" of which Huxley speaks, it has just to be pointed out, as he himself seems to understand, that the "we" referred to in the phrase does not mean humanity in general that 'splashes about in the lower ooze' but those who have a sufficiently developed inner spiritual life.
--
We fear Mr. Huxley has completely missed the point of the cryptic sentence. He seems to take it as meaning that human kindness and morality are a means to the recovery of the Lost Way-although codes of ethics and deliberate choices are not sufficient in themselves, they are only a second best, yet they mark the rise of self-consciousness and have to be utilised to pass on into the unitive knowledge that is Tao. This explanation or amplification seems to us somewhat confused and irrelevant to the idea expressed in the apophthegm. What is stated here is much simpler and transparent. It is this that when the Divine is absent and the divine Knowledge, then comes in man with his human mental knowledge: it is man's humanity that clouds the Divine and to reach the' Divine one must reject the human values, all the moralities, sarva dharmn, seek only the Divine. The lesser way lies through the dualities, good and evil, the Great Way is beyond them and cannot be limited or measured by the relative standards. Especially in the modern age we see the decline and almost the disappearance of the Greater Light and instead a thousand smaller lights are lighted which vainly strive to dispel the gathering darkness. These do not help, they are false lights and men are apt to cling to them, shutting their eyes to the true one which is not that that one worships here and now, nedam yadidam upsate.
There is a beautiful quotation from the Chinese sage, Wu Ch'ng-n, regarding the doubtful utility of written Scriptures:
01.11 - The Basis of Unity, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
In India the spirit of renascence came very late, late almost by three centuries; and even then it could not flood the whole of the continent in all its nooks and corners, psychological and physical. There were any number of pockets (to use a current military phrase) left behind which guarded the spirit of the past and offered persistent and obdurate resistance. Perhaps, such a dispensation was needed in India and inevitable also; inevitable, because the religious spirit is closest to India's soul and is its most direct expression and cannot be uprooted so easily; needed, because India's and the world's future demands it and depends upon it.
Only, the religious spirit has to be bathed and purified and enlightened by the spirit of the renascence: that is to say, one must learn and understand and realize that Spirit is the thing the one thing needfulTamevaikam jnatha; 'religions' are its names and forms, appliances and decorations. Let us have by all means the religious spirit, the fundamental experience that is the inmost truth of all religions, that is the matter of our soul; but in our mind and life and body let there be a luminous catholicity, let these organs and instruments be trained to see and compare and appreciate the variety, the numberless facets which the one Spirit naturally presents to the human consciousness. Ekam sat viprh bahudh vadanti. It is an ancient truth that man discovered even in his earliest seekings; but it still awaits an adequate expression and application in life.
II
India's historical development is marked by a special characteristic which is at once the expression of her inmost nature and the setting of a problem which she has to solve for herself and for the whole human race. I have spoken of the diversity and divergence of affiliations in a modern social unit. But what distinguishes India from all other peoples is that the diversity and divergence have culminated here in contradictoriness and mutual exclusion.
The first extremes that met in India and fought and gradually coalesced to form a single cultural and social whole were, as is well known, the Aryan and the non-Aryan. Indeed, the geologists tell us, the land itself is divided into two parts structurally quite different and distinct, the Deccan plateau and the Himalayan ranges with the Indo-Gangetic plain: the former is formed out of the most ancient and stable and, on the whole, horizontally bedded rocks of the earth, while the latter is of comparatively recent origin, formed out of a more flexible and weaker belt (the Himalayan region consisting of a colossal flexing and crumpling of strata). The disparity is so much that a certain group of geologists hold that the Deccan plateau did not at all form part of the Asiatic continent, but had drifted and dashed into it:in fact the Himalayas are the result of this mighty impact. The usual division of an Aryan and a Dravidian race may be due to a memory of the clash of the two continents and their races.
However, coming to historical times, we see wave after wave of the most heterogeneous and disparate elementsSakas and Huns and Greeks, each bringing its quota of exotic materialenter into the oceanic Indian life and culture, lose their separate foreign identity and become part and parcel of the common whole. Even so,a single unitary body was formed out of such varied and shifting materialsnot in the political, but in a socio-religious sense. For a catholic religious spirit, not being solely doctrinal and personal, admitted and embraced in its supple and wide texture almost an infinite variety of approaches to the Divine, of forms and norms of apprehending the Beyond. It has been called Hinduism: it is a vast synthesis of multiple affiliations. It expresses the characteristic genius of India and hence Hinduism and Indianism came to be looked upon as synonymous terms. And the same could be defined also as Vedic religion and culture, for its invariable basis the bed-rock on which it stood firm and erectwas the Vedas, the Knowledge seen by the sages. But there had already risen a voice of dissidence and discord that of Buddha, not so much, perhaps, of Buddha as of Buddhism. The Buddhistic enlightenment and discipline did not admit the supreme authority of the Vedas; it sought other bases of truth and reality. It was a great denial; and it meant and worked for a vital schism. The denial of the Vedas by itself, perhaps, would not be serious, but it became so, as it was symptomatic of a deeper divergence. Denying the Vedas, the Buddhistic spirit denied life. It was quite a new thing in the Indian consciousness and spiritual discipline. And it left such a stamp there that even today it stands as the dominant character of the Indian outlook. However, India's synthetic genius rose to the occasion and knew how to bridge the chasm, close up the fissure, and present again a body whole and entire. Buddha became one of the Avataras: the discipline of Nirvana and Maya was reserved as the last duty to be performed at the end of life, as the culmination of a full-length span of action and achievement; the way to Moksha lay through Dharma and Artha and Kama, Sannyasa had to be built upon Brahmacharya and Garhasthya. The integral ideal was epitomized by Kalidasa in his famous lines about the character of the Raghus:
They devoted themselves to study in their boyhood, in youth they pursued the objects of life; when old they took to spiritual austerities, and in the end they died united with the higher consciousness.
--
History abounds in instances of racial and cultural immixture. Indeed, all major human groupings of today are invariably composite formations. Excepting, perhaps, some primitiveaboriginal tribes there are no pure races existent. The Briton, the Dane, the Anglo-Saxon, and the Norman have combined to form the British; a Frenchman has a Gaul, a Roman, a Frank in him; and a Spaniard's blood would show an Iberian, a Latin, a Gothic, a Moorish element in it. And much more than a people, a culture in modern times has been a veritable cockpit of multifarious and even incongruous elements. There are instances also in which a perfect fusion could not be accomplished, and one element had to be rejected or crushed out. The complete disappearance of the Aztecs and Mayas in South America, the decadence of the Red Indians in North America, of the Negroes in Africa as a result of a fierce clash with European peoples and European culture illustrate the point.
Nature, on the whole, has solved the problem of blood fusion and mental fusion of different peoples, although on a smaller scale. India today presents the problem on a larger scale and on a higher or deeper level. The demand is for a spiritual fusion and unity. Strange to say, although the Spirit is the true bed-rock of unitysince, at bottom, it means identityit is on this plane that mankind has not yet been able to really meet and coalesce. India's genius has been precisely working in the line of a perfect solution of this supreme problem.
Islam comes with a full-fledged spiritual soul and a mental and vital formation commensurable with that inner being and consciousness. It comes with a dynamic spirit, a warrior mood, that aims at conquering the physical world for the Lord, a temperament which Indian spirituality had not, or had lost long before, if she had anything of it. This was, perhaps, what Vivekananda meant when he spoke graphically of a Hindu soul with a Muslim body. The Islamic dispensation, however, brings with it not only something complementary, but also something contradictory, if not for anything else, at least for the strong individuality which does not easily yield to assimilation. Still, in spite of great odds, the process of assimilation was going on slowly and surely. But of late it appears to have come to a dead halt; difficulties have been presented which seem insuperable.
If religious toleration were enough, if that made up man's highest and largest achievement, then Nature need not have attempted to go beyond cultural fusion; a liberal culture is the surest basis for a catholic religious spirit. But such a spirit of toleration and catholicity, although it bespeaks a widened consciousness, does not always enshrine a profundity of being. Nobody is more tolerant and catholic than a dilettante, but an ardent spiritual soul is different.
To be loyal to one's line of self-fulfilment, to follow one's self-law, swadharma, wholly and absolutelywithout this no spiritual life is possible and yet not to come into clash with other lines and loyalties, nay more, to be in positive harmony with them, is a problem which has not been really solved. It was solved, perhaps, in the consciousness of a Ramakrishna, a few individuals here and there, but it has always remained a source of conflict and disharmony in the general mind even in the field of spirituality. The clash of spiritual or religious loyalties has taken such an acute form in India today, they have been carried to the bitter extreme, in order, we venture to say, that the final synthesis might be absolute and irrevocable. This is India's mission to work out, and this is the lesson which she brings to the world.
The solution can come, first, by going to the true religion of the Spirit, by being truly spiritual and not merely religious, for, as we have said, real unity lies only in and through the Spirit, since Spirit is one and indivisible; secondly, by bringing down somethinga great part, indeed, if not the wholeof this puissant and marvellous Spirit into our life of emotions and sensations and activities.
--
India did not and could not stop at mere cultural fusionwhich was a supreme gift of the Moguls. She did not and could not stop at another momentous cultural fusion brought about by the European impact. She aimed at something more. Nature demanded of her that she should discover a greater secret of human unity and through progressive experiments apply and establish it in fact. Christianity did not raise this problem of the greater synthesis, for the Christian peoples were more culture-minded than religious-minded. It was left for an Asiatic people to set the problem and for India to work out the solution.
***
01.12 - Goethe, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
One view considers Evil as coeval with Good: the Prince of Evil is God's peer, equal to him in all ways, absolutely separate, independent and self-existent. Light and Darkness are eternal principles living side by side, possessing equal reality. For, although it is permissible to the individual to pass out of the Darkness and enter into Light, the Darkness itself does not disappear: it remains and maintains its domain, and even it is said that some human beings are meant eternally for this domain. That is the Manichean principle and that also is fundamentally the dualistic conception of chit-achit in some Indian systems (although the principle of chit or light is usually given a higher position and priority of excellence).
The Christian too accepts the dual principle, but does not give equal status to the two. Satan is there, an eternal reality: it is anti-God, it seeks to oppose God, frustrate his work. It is the great tempter whose task it is to persuade, to inspire man to remain always an earthly creature and never turn to know or live in God. Now the crucial question that arises is, what is the necessity of this Antagonist in God's scheme of creation? What is the meaning of this struggle and battle? God could have created, if he had chosen, a world without Evil. The orthodox Christi an answer is that in that case one could not have fully appreciated the true value and glory of God's presence. It is to manifest and proclaim the great victory that the strife and combat has been arranged in which Man triumphs in the end and God's work stands vindicated. The place of Satan is always Hell, but he cannot drag down a soul into his pit to hold it there eternally (although according to one doctrine there are or may be certain eternally damned souls).
--
The angels weave the symphony that is creation. They represent the various notes and rhythmsin their higher and purer degrees that make up the grand harmony of the spheres. It is magnificent, this music that moves the cosmos, and wonderful the glory of God manifest therein. But is it absolutely perfect? Is there nowhere any flaw in it? There is a doubting voice that enters a dissenting note. That is Satan, the Antagonist, the Evil One. Man is the weakest link in the chain of the apparently all-perfect harmony. And Satan boldly proposes to snap it if God only let him do so. He can prove to God that the true nature of his creation is not cosmos but chaos not a harmony in peace and light, but a confusion, a Walpurgis Night. God acquiesces in the play of this apparent breach and proves in the end that it is part of a wider scheme, a vaster harmony. Evil is rounded off by Grace.
The total eradication of Evil from the world and human nature and the remoulding of a terrestrial life in the substance and pattern of the Highest Good that is beyond all dualities is a conception which it was not for Goe the to envisage. In the order of reality or existence, first there is the consciousness of division, of trenchant separation in which Good is equated with not-evil and evil with not-good. This is the outlook of individualised consciousness. Next, as the consciousness grows and envelops the whole existence, good and evil are both embraced and are found to form a secret and magic harmony. That is the universal or cosmic consciousness. And Goethe's genius seems to be an outflowering of something of this status of consciousness. But there is still a higher status, the status of transcendence in which evil is not simply embraced but dissolved and even transmuted into a supreme reality of which it is an aberration, a reflection or projection, a lower formulation. That is the mystery of a spiritual realisation to which Goe the aspired perhaps, but had not the necessary initiation to enter into.
***
01.12 - Three Degrees of Social Organisation, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
But Right is not the only term on which an ideal or even a decent society can be based. There is another term which can serve equally well, if not better. I am obviously referring to the conception of duty. I tis an old world conception; it isa conception particularly familiar to the East. The Indian term for Right is also the term for dutyadhikara means both. In Europe too, in more recent times, when after the frustration of the dream of a new world envisaged by the French Revolution, man was called upon again to rise and hope, it was Mazzini who brought forward the new or discarded principle as a mantra replacing the other more dangerous one. A hierarchy of duties was given by him as the pattern of a fulfilled ideal life. In India, in our days the distinction between the two attitudes was very strongly insisted upon by the great Vivekananda.
Vivekananda said that if human society is to be remodelled, one must first of all learn not to think and act in terms of claims and rights but in terms of duties and obligations. Fulfil your duties conscientiously, the rights will take care of themselves; it is such an attitude that can give man the right poise, the right impetus, the right outlook with regard to a collective living. If instead of each one demanding what one considers as one's dues and consequently scrambling and battling for them, and most often not getting them or getting at a ruinous pricewhat made Arjuna cry, "What shall I do with all this kingdom if in regaining it I lose all my kith and kin dear to me?"if, indeed, instead of claiming one's right, one were content to know one's duty and do it as it should be done, then not only there would be peace and amity upon earth, but also each one far from losing anything would find miraculously all that one most needs and must have,the necessary, the right rights and all.
--
We may perhaps view the three terms Right, Duty and Dharma as degrees of an ascending consciousness. Consciousness at Its origin and in its primitive formulation is dominated by the principle of inertia (tamas); in that state things have mostly an undifferentiated collective existence, they helplessly move about acted upon by forces outside them. A rise in growth and evolution brings about differentiation, specialisation, organisation. And this means consciousness of oneself of the distinct and separate existence of each and everyone, in other words, self-assertion, the claim, the right of each individual unit to be itself, to become itself first and foremost. It is a necessary development; for it signifies the growth of self consciousness in the units out of a mass unconsciousness or semi-consciousness. It is the expression of rajas, the mode of dynamism, of strife and struggle, it is the corrective of tamas.
In the earliest and primitive society men lived totally in a mass consciousness. Their life was a blind obedienceobedience to the chief the patriarch or pater familiasobedience to the laws and customs of the collectivity to which one belonged. It was called duty; it was called even dharma, but evidently on a lower level, in an inferior formulation. In reality it was more of the nature of the mechanical functioning of an automaton than the exercise of conscious will and deliberate choice, which is the very soul of the conception of duty.
01.13 - T. S. Eliot: Four Quartets, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Yes, by the force of this secret knowledge he has discovered, this supreme skill in action, as it is termed in the Eastern lore, I that the poet at last comes out into the open, into the light and happiness of the Dawn and the Day:
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
--
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
--
The Divine Love is a greater fire than the low smouldering fire that our secular unregenerate life is. One has to choose and declare his adhesion. Indeed, the stage of conversion, the crucial turn from the ordinary life to the spiritual life Eliot has characterised in a very striking manner. We usually say, sometimes in an outburst of grief, sometimes in a spirit of sudden disgust and renunciation that the world is dark and dismal and lonesome, the only thing to do here is to be done with it. The true renunciation, that which is deep and abiding, is not, however, so simple a thing, such a short cut. So our poet says, but the world is not dark enough, it is not lonesome enough: the world lives and moves in a superficial half-light, it is neither real death nor real life, it is death in life. It is this miserable mediocrity, the shallow uncertainty of consciousness that spells danger and ruin for the soul. Hence the poet exclaims:
. . . . Not here
--
But Thompson was not an intellectual, his doubts and despondencies were not of the mental order, he was a boiling, swelling life-surge, a geyser, a volcano. He, too, crossed the Night and saw the light of Day, but in a different way. Well, I he did not march into the day, it was the Day that marched I into him! Yes, the Divine Grace came and seized him from behind with violence. A modern, a modernist consciousness cannot expect that indulgence. God meets him only halfway, he has to work up himself the other half. He has laid so many demands and conditions: the knots in his case are not cut asunder but slowly disengaged.
The modern temper is especially partial to harmony: it cannot assert and reject unilaterally and categorically, it wishes to go round an object and view all its sides; it asks for a synthesis and reconciliation of differences and contraries. Two major chords of life-experience that demand accord are Life and Death, Time and Eternity. Indeed, the problem of Time hangs heavy on the human consciousness. It has touched to the quick philosophers and sages in all ages and climes; it is the great question that confronts the spiritual seeker, the riddle that the Sphinx of life puts to the journeying soul for solution.
--
Our poet is too self-conscious, he himself feels that he has not the perfect voice. A Homer, even a Milton possesses a unity of tone and a wholeness of perception which are denied to the modern. To the modern, however, the old masters are not subtle enough, broad enough, psychological enough, let us say the word, spiritual enough. And yet the poetic inspiration, more than the religious urge, needs the injunction not to be busy with too many things, but to be centred upon the one thing needful, viz., to create poetically and not to discourse philosophically or preach prophetically. Not that it is impossible for the poet to swallow the philosopher and the prophet, metabolising them into the substance of his bone and marrow, of "the trilling wire in his blood", as Eliot graphically expresses. That perhaps is the consummation towards which poetry is tending. But at present, in Eliot, at least, the strands remain distinct, each with its own temper and rhythm, not fused and moulded into a single streamlined form of beauty. Our poet flies high, very high indeed at times, often or often he flies low, not disdaining the perilous limit of bathos. Perhaps it is all wilful, it is a mannerism which he cherishes. The mannerism may explain his psychology and enshrine his philosophy. But the poet, the magician is to be looked for elsewhere. In the present collection of poems it is the philosophical, exegetical, discursive Eliot who dominates: although the high lights of the subject-matter may be its justification. Still even if we have here doldrums like
That the past has another pattern, and ceases to be a mere sequence
Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy Encouraged by superficial notions of evolution, Which becomes, in the popular mind, a means of disowning the past.17
we have also high flights like the lines I have already quoted:
--
Here the poet is almost grimly tense, concentrated and has not allowed himself to be dissipated by thinkings and arguments, has confined himself wholly to a living experience. That is because the poet has since then moved up and sought a more rarefied air, a more even and smooth temper. The utter and absolute poetic ring of the Inferno is difficult to maintain in the Para diso, unless and until the poet transforms himself wholly into the Rishi, like the poet of the Gita or the Upanishads.
"East Coker"
01.14 - Nicholas Roerich, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
Roerich discovered and elaborated his own technique to reveal that which is secret, express that which is not expressed or expressible. First of all, he is symbolical and allegorical: secondly, the choice of his symbols and allegories is hieratic, that is to say, the subject-matter refers to objects and events connected with saints and legends, shrines and enchanted places, hidden treasures, spirits and angels, etc. etc.; thirdly, the manner or style of execution is what we may term pantomimic, in other words, concrete, graphic, dramatic, even melodramatic. He has a special predilection for geometrical patterns the artistic effect of whichbalance, regularity, fixity, soliditywas greatly utilised by the French painter Czanne and poet Mallarm who seem to have influenced Roerich to a considerable degree. But this Northerner had not the reticence, the suavity, the tonic unity of the classicist, nor the normality and clarity of the Latin temperament. The prophet, the priest in him was the stronger element and made use of the artist as the rites andceremoniesmudras and chakrasof his vocation demanded. Indeed, he stands as the hierophant of a new cultural religion and his paintings and utterances are, as it were, gestures that accompany a holy ceremonial.
A Russian artist (Monsieur Benois) has stressed upon the primitivealmost aboriginalelement in Roerich and was not happy over it. Well, as has been pointed out by other prophets and thinkers, man today happens to be so sophisticated, artificial, material, cerebral that a [all-back seems to be necessary for him to take a new leap forward on to a higher ground. The pure aesthete is a closed system, with a consciousness immured in an ivory tower; but man is something more. A curious paradox. Man can reach the highest, realise the integral truth when he takes his leap, not from the relatively higher levels of his consciousness his intellectual and aesthetic and even moral status but when he can do so from his lower levels, when the physico-vital element in him serves as the springing-board. The decent and the beautiful the classic grace and aristocracyform one aspect of man, the aspect of "light"; but the aspect of energy and power lies precisely in him where the aboriginal and the barbarian find also a lodging. Man as a mental being is naturally sattwic, but prone to passivity and weakness; his physico-vital reactions, on the other hand, are obscure and crude, simple and vehement, but they have life and energy and creative power, they are there to be trained and transfigured, made effective instruments of a higher illumination.
0.11 - Letters to a Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
goodwill; all its movements are ignorant and so they distort and
disfigure the Divine Presence.
--
Each time that you discover in yourself something that denies
or resists, throw it into the flame of Agni, which is the fire of
--
of the disciples of the Ashram all belong to the same family. In spite of this, there is often a lack of collaboration
among us. Why is that, Mother?
--
longer be necessary and will disappear.
4 September 1967
--
and distinctions. Each one follows his own path and has his
own experiences. Nevertheless, Sri Aurobindo has often said
--
to follow a discipline to obtain it?
Spontaneity in feelings and action comes from a permanent contact with the psychic, which brings order into the thoughts and
--
To make a dishonest man honest is an even more impossible
miracle.
--
is calling You, and You answer. Doesn't this disturb Your
sleep or Your rest?
--
the more dishonest one is?
It is because material wealth is controlled by the adverse forces
--
the disposal of the Divine for the welfare of all.
4 January 1968
--
The disciples of the Ashram have a sure and easy way to
put their money at the disposal of the Divine: they offer
it to the Mother.
--
without distorting it.
Similarly, a sincere consciousness lets divine vibrations
through without distorting them.
8 July 1968
--
good Guru and what a good disciple!
Speed is not necessarily a sign of superiority.
0.12 - Letters to a Student, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The discovery of the psychic being is a definite and very
concrete fact, as all who have had the experience know.
--
than their present one and that it will survive the disappearance
of this body.
It is not a theory to be discussed - it is an in disputable
experience for one who has had it.
--
development and discipline of the consciousness.
Blessings.
--
obstacles. But it first has to be disciplined, and this it consents
to only when the Divine is its master.
0.13 - Letters to a Student, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
as they are necessary or important to oneself. In French, selfrealisation (réalisation du Soi) means discovering the divine
centre in one's being. In English, self-fulfilment is generally taken
--
generosity; weakness disappears and strength and endurance
take its place; cowardice is replaced by courage and energy.
--
I have never discussed with my friends the question
of knowing why we are here on earth, but I have thought
0.14 - Letters to a Sadhak, #Some Answers From The Mother, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
incomprehensible disorders and even diseases is increasing and
becoming a problem for medical science.
--
The purpose of individual existence is the joy of discovering the
Divine and uniting with Him. When one has understood this,
--
character quite distinct from the mind, something like a feeling
that comprehends itself and acts.
--
try to enter deep within to discover the Divine Presence in the
depths of your consciousness, beyond all mental activity.
--
To know why we live: discovery of the Divine and conscious
union with Him.
--
ordinary law of suffering, disappointment and sorrow.
It is only in the last category - if one has chosen it in all
--
one is courting disaster.
31 January 1972
--
prepared, the ego has to disappear and give way to the psychic
being, which has slowly been formed by divine intervention in
--
either to get converted or disappear.
8 February 1972
0 1954-08-25 - what is this personality? and when will she come?, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The following text is an extract from a 'Wednesday Class,' when every Wednesday Mother would answer questions raised by the disciples and children at the Ashram Playground.
(Mother reads to the disciples an excerpt from Sri Aurobindos THE MOTHER, in which he describes the different aspects of the Creative Powerwhat is India is called the Shakti, or the Motherwhich have presided over universal evolution.)
There are other great Personalities of the Divine Mother, but they were more difficult to bring down and have not stood out in front with so much prominence in the evolution of the earth-spirit. There are among them Presences in dispensable for the supramental realization,most of all one who is her Personality of that mysterious and powerful ecstasy and Ananda1 which flows from a supreme divine Love, the Ananda that alone can heal the gulf between the highest heights of the supramental spirit and the lowest abysses of Matter, the Ananda that holds the key of a wonderful divines Life and even now supports from its secrecies the work of all the other Powers of the universe.
--
(A disciple:) Sweet Mother, what is this Personality and when will It manifest?
My answer is ready.
--
What? (the disciple repeats his question) Oh! You can always try!
The world is recreated from minute to minute. If you knew how I mean if you could change your natureyou could recreate a new world this very minute!
--
Oh! But you see, from an occult standpoint, it is a selection. From an external standpoint you could say that there are people in the world who are far superior to you (and I would not disagree!), but from an occult standpoint, it is a selection. There are It can be said that without a doubt the majority of young people here have come because it was promised them that they would be present at the Hour of Realization but they just dont remember it! (Mother laughs) I have already said several times that when you come down on earth, you fall on your head, which leaves you a little dazed! (laughter) Its a pity, but after all, you dont have to remain dazed all your lives, do you? You should go deep within yourselves and there find the immortal consciousness then you can see very well, you can very clearly remember the circumstances in which you you aspired to be here for the Hour of the Works realization.
But actually, to tell you the truth, I think your lives are so easy that you dont exert yourselves very much! How many among you have truly an INTENSE need to find their psychic beings? To find out truly who they are? To find out what their roles are, why they are here? You just let yourselves drift. You even complain when things arent easy enough! You just take things as they come. And sometimes, should an aspiration arise in you and you encounter some difficulty in yourself, you say, Oh, Mother is there! Shell take care of it for me! And you think about something else.
--
But as I said, bit by bit things changed. However, this had one advantage: we were too much outside of life. So there were a number of problems which had never arisen but which would have suddenly surged up the moment we wanted a complete manifestation. We took on all these problems a little prematurely, but it gave us the opportunity to solve them. In this way we learned many things and surmounted many difficulties, only it complicated things considerably. And in the present situation, given such a large number of elements who havent even the slightest idea why theyre here (!) well, it demands a far greater effort on the disciples part than before.
Before, when there were we started with 35 or 36 people but even when it got up to 150, even with 150it was as if they were all nestled in a cocoon in my consciousness: they were so near to me that I could constantly guide ALL their inner or outer movements. Day and night, at each moment, everything was totally under my control. And naturally, I think they made a great deal of progress at that time: it is a fact that I was CONSTANTLY doing the sadhana2 for them. But then, with this baby boom The sadhana cant be done for little sprouts who are 3 or 4 or 5 years old! Its out of the question. The only thing I can do is wrap them in the Consciousness and try to see that they grow up in the best of all possible conditions. However, the one advantage to all this is that instead of there being such a COMPLETE and PASSIVE dependence on the disciples part, each one has to make his own little effort. Truly, thats excellent.
I dont know to whom I was mentioning this today (I think it was for a Birthday3 No, I dont know now. It was to someone who told me he was 18 years old. I said that between the ages of 18 and 20, I had attained a constant and conscious union with the Divine Presence and that I had done this ALL ALONE, without ANYONES help, not even books. When a little later I chanced upon Vivekanandas Raja Yoga, it really seemed so wonderful to me that someone could explain something to me! And it helped me realize in only a few months what would have otherwise taken years.
--
So some of you people have been here since the time you were toddlerseverything has been explained to you, the whole thing has been served to you on a silver platter (not only with words, but through psychic aid and in every possible way), you have been put on the path of this inner discovery and then you just go on drifting along: When it comes, it will come.If you even spare it that much thought!
So thats how it is.
But Im not at all discouraged, I just find it rather laughable. Only there are other far more serious things; for example, when you try to deceive yourselves that is not so pretty. One should not mix up cats and kings. You should call a cat a cat and a king a king and human instinct, human instinctand not speak about things divine when they are utterly human, nor pretend to have supramental experiences when you are living in a blatantly ordinary consciousness.
If you look at yourselves straight in the face and you see what you are, then if by chance you should resolve to But what really astounds me is that you dont even seem to feel an intense NEED to do this! But how can we know? Because you DO know, you have been told over and over again, it has been drummed into your heads. You KNOW that you have a divine consciousness within you. And yet you can go on sleeping night after night, playing day after day, doing your lessons ad infinitum and still not be not have a BURNING desire and will to come into contact with yourselves!With yourselves, yes, the you just there, inside (motion towards the center of the chest) Really, its beyond me!
As soon as I found outand no one told me, I found out through an experienceas soon as I found out that there was a discovery to be made within myself, well, it became THE MOST IMPORTANT thing in the world. It took precedence over everything else!
And when, as I told you, I chanced upon a book or an individual that could give me just a little clue and tell me, Here. If you do such and such, you will find your pathwell I charged into it like a cyclone and nothing could have stopped me.
--
(To the disciple handling the microphone:) Its over now.
(Mother gets up to go, but while leaving, She says to the children around her:) If you had made just one little decision to try to feel your psychic being, my time would not have been wasted.
--
Sadhana: yogic discipline or effort.
Mother received each disciple individually on his birthday.
The Mother of Ananda, or the Creative Power's aspect of Joy.
0 1955-03-26, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I dont know what mud is stirring about in me, but everything is obscured, and I cannot dissociate myself from these vital waves.
Mother, without Mahakalis grace, I shall never be able to get out of this mechanical round, to shatter these old formations, ever the same, which keep coming back. Mother, I beg of you, help. me to BREAK this shell in which I am suffocating. Deliver me from myself, deliver me in spite of myself. Alone, I am helpless; sometimes I cannot even call you! May your force come and burn all my impurities, shatter my resistances.
0 1955-04-04, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
When I am not immediately engrossed in work, I have to confront a thousand little temptations and daily difficulties that come from my contact with other beings and a life that does indeed remain in life. Here, even more, there is the feeling of an impossible struggle, and all these little difficulties seem to gnaw away at me; scarcely has one hole been filled when another opens up, or the same one reappears, and there is never any real victoryone has constantly to begin everything again. Finally, it seems to me that I really live only one hour a day, during the evening distribution at the playground.2 It is scarcely a life and scarcely a sadhana!
Consequently, I understand much better now why in the traditional yogas one settled all these difficulties once and for all by escaping from the world, without bothering to transform a life that seems so untransformable.
--
By continuing this daily little ant-like struggle and by having to confront the same desires, the same distractions every day, it seems to me I am wasting my energy in vain. Sri Aurobindos Yoga, which is meant to include life, is so difficult that one should come to it only after having already established the solid base of a concrete divine realization. That is why I want to ask you if I should not withdraw for a certain time, to Almora,3 for example, to Brewsters place,4 to live in solitude, silence, meditation, far away from people, work and temptations, until a beginning of Light and Realization is concretized in me. Once this solid base is acquired, it would be easier for me to resume my work and the struggle here for the true transformation of the outer being. But to want to transform this outer being without having fully illumined the inner being seems to me to be putting the cart before the horse, or at least condemning myself to a pitiless and endless battle in which the best of my forces are fruitlessly consumed.
In all sincerity, I must say that when I was at Brewsters place in Almora, I felt very near to that state in which the Light must surge forth. I quite understand the imperfection of this process, which involves fleeing from difficulties, but this would only be a stage, a strategic retreat, as it were.
--
I know that you do not like to write, Mother, but couldnt you say in a few words if you approve of my project or what I should do? In spite of all my rebellions and discouragements and resistances, I am your child. O Mother, help me!
Signed: Bernard
--
No doubt it would be better to go to Almora for a whilenot for too long, I hope, for it is needless to say how much the work will be disrupted by this departure
(Another handwritten version)
--
Every evening at the Playground, the disciples passed before Mother one by one to receive symbolically some food.
In the Himalayas.
0 1955-06-09, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
If only I could see a distinct error blocking my path which I could clearly attack But I feel that I am not responsible, that it is not my personal fault if I remain without aspiration, stagnating. I feel like a battlefield of contending forces that are beyond me and against which I can do NOTHING. Oh Mother, it is not an excuse for a lack of will, or at least I dont think so I profoundly feel like a helpless toy, totally helpless.
If the divine force, if your grace, does not intervene to shatter this obscure resistance that is drawing me downwards in spite of myself, I dont know what will become of me Mother, I am not blackmailing you, I am only expressing my helplessness, my anguish.
0 1955-09-15, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Otherwise, Mother, there is this block before me that is obscuring all the rest and taking away my taste for everything. I would like to leave, Mother, but not in revolt; may it be an experience to go through that receives your approval. I would not like to be cut off from you by your displeasure or your condemnation, for this would seem to me terrible and leave me no other recourse but to plunge into the worst excesses in order to forget.
Mother, I would like you to forgive me, to understand me and, above all, not to deprive me of your Love. I would like you to tell me if I may leave for a few weeks and how you feel about it. It seems to me that I am profoundly your child, in spite of all this??
0 1955-10-19, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Generally, when these movements are made in the right way, they are followed by a perfect identification, a dissolution of the ego, bringing about a sublime felicity.
***
0 1956-03-19, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Note written by Mother in French. At this period, Mother's back was already bent. This straightening of her back seems to be the first physiological effect of the 'Supramental Manifestation' of February 29, which is perhaps the reason why Mother noted down the experience under the name 'Agenda of the Supramental Action on Earth.' It was the first time Mother gave a title to what would become this fabulous document of 13 volumes. The experience took place during a 'translation class' when, twice a week, Mother would translate the works of Sri Aurobindo into French before a group of disciples.
AGENDA OF THE SUPRAMENTAL ACTION ON EARTH
0 1956-03-20, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Mother appeared on her balcony daily at about 6 a.m. to give a few moments of meditation to her disciples before the beginning of the day's work.
***
0 1956-03-21, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
But the age of Communism, too, will pass. For Communism as it is preached is not constructive, it is a weapon to combat plutocracy. But when the battle is over and the armies are disbanded for want of employment, then Communism, having no more utility, will be transformed into something else that will express a higher truth.
We know this truth, and we are working for it so that it may reign upon earth.
0 1956-05-02, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I knew some people who came here a long time ago, something like (Oh, I dont recall anymore, but quite a long time ago!), certainly more than twenty years ago; the first time someone died in the Ashram, they expressed a considerable dissatisfaction: But I came here because I thought this yoga would make me immortal! If you can still die, then why did I come here?
Well, its the same thing. People take the train to come herethere were about a hundred and fifty more people than usual1simply because they want to benefit. But this may be exactly why they have not benefited from it! Because This [the supramental consciousness] has not come to make people benefit in any way whatsoever!
--
The number of disciples is increasing now day by day. What does this indicate?
But inevitablyit will increase more and more! Which is why I cannot do what I used to do when there were one hundred and fifty people in the Ashram. If they had just a little bit of common sense, they would understand that I cannot have the same relationship with people now (just imagine, 1,800 people these last days!), so I cannot have the same relationship with 1,845 people (exactly, I believe) as with thirty or even a hundred. That seems an easy enough logic to understand.
--
(Turning to the disciple) So you may tell them this: be sincere and you will be helped.
Mother, very recently a text has been circulating which says, What has just now happened, with this Victory, is not a descent but a manifestation. And it is no longer merely an individual event: the Supermind has sprung forth into the universal play.
0 1956-08-10, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
In fact, following the 'Supramental Manifestation' of February 29, 1956, all of Mother's physical difficulties increased, as though all the obscurities in the physical consciousness were surging forth beneath the pressure of the new light. The same observation applies to the disciples who were around Mother and undoubtedly to the world as a whole. A strange 'mysterious acceleration' was beginning to take hold of the world.
***
0 1956-09-12, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
This text was noted down by a disciple from memory. On the original manuscript submitted for her approval, Mother wrote, 'This account is quite correct,' and She signed the text. Words added or corrected by Mother are in italics.
(During the Wednesday class)
0 1956-09-14, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
My friends keep telling me that I am not ready and that, like R,1 whom they knew, I should go and spend some time in society. They say that my idea of going to the Himalayas is absurd, and they advise me to return to Brazil for a few years to stay with W W is an elderly American millionaire the only good rich man I knowwho wanted to make me an heir, as it were, to his financial affairs and who treats me rather like a son. He was quite disappointed when I came back to India. My friends tell me that if I have to go through a period in the outside world, the best way to do it is to remain near someone who is fond of me, while at the same time ensuring a material independence for the future.
These questions of money do not interest me. In fact, nothing interests me except this something I feel within me. The only question for me is to know whether I am truly ready for the Yoga, or if my failings are not the sign of some immaturity. Mother, you alone can tell me what is right.
--
Go to Brazil, to this good rich man, make him understand the importance of our work, the extent to which his fortune would be used to the utmost for the good of all and for the earths salvation were he to put it, even partially, at the disposal of our action. Win this victory over the power of money, and by so doing you will be freed from all your personal difficulties. Then you can return here with no apprehension, and you will be ready for the transformation.
Reflect upon this, take your time, tell me very frankly how you feel about it and whether it appears to you, as it does to me, to be a door opening onto a path that will bring you back, free and strong at last to me.
--
A former disciple who left the Ashram, and subsequently committed suicide.
***
0 1956-10-07, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Z asked me, Why didnt you stop it?1 I replied, Probably because I am not omnipotent! Then he insisted: No, thats not it. I make no distinction between your will and the divine will and I know that you dont either. So why didnt you stop it?
And suddenly, I understood.
0 1956-10-08, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I wanted to take this little rose (Tenderness for the Divine), for I consider it to be the manifestation nearest to divine Love. Its disinterested, spontaneous, intimate.
This is what I wanted to take with me to my super-heaven, as the most precious thing in the human heart.
0 1956-10-28, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
So far, your whole life has revolved around yourself; all you have done, even the apparently most disinterested or least egoistic act, has been done with a view to your own personal growth or illumination. It is time to live for something other than yourself, something other than your own individuality.
Open a new chapter in your existence. Live, no longer for your own realization or the realization of your ideal, however exalted it may be, but to serve an eternal work that transcends your individuality on all sides.
0 1957-04-09, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Thus I am so tense that I do not even want to close my eyes to meditate for fear of yielding. And I fall into all kinds of errors that horrify me, simply because the pressure is too strong at times, and I literally suffocate. Mother, I am not cut out to be a disciple.
I realize that all the progress I was able to make during the first two years has been lost and I am just as before, worse than beforeas if all my strength were in ruin, all faith in myself undoneso much so that at times I curse myself for having come here at all.
0 1957-04-22, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The book is finished.1 I would like to give it to you personally, if it would not disturb you, whenever you wish.
Your child,
0 1957-07-03, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
She clearly remembered where her room was, but each time she set out to go there, either the staircase disappeared or things were so changed that she could no longer find her way! So she went here and there, up and down, searched, went in and out but it was impossible to find the way to her room! Since all of this assumed a physical appearanceas I said, a very familiar and very common appearance, as is always the case in these symbolic visions there was somewhere (how shall I put it?) the hotels administrative office and a woman who seemed to be the manager, who had all the keys and who knew where everyone was staying. So the daughter went to this person and asked her, Could you show me the way to my room?But of course! Easily! Everyone around the manager looked at her as if to say, How can you say that? However, she got up, and with authority asked for a key the key to the daughters roomsaying, I shall take you there. And off she went along all kinds of paths, but all so complicated, so bizarre! The daughter was following along behind her very attentively, you see, so as not to lose sight of her. But just as they should have come to the place where the daughters room was supposed to be, suddenly the manageress (let us call her the manageress), both the manageress and her key vanished! And the sense of this vanishing was so acute that at the same time, everything vanished!
So to help you understand this enigma, let me tell you that the mother is physical Nature as she is, and the daughter is the new creation. The manageress is the worlds organizing mental consciousness as Nature has developed it thus far, that is, the most advanced organizing sense to have manifested in the present state of material Nature. This is the key to the vision.
--
The symbolism is quite clear in that all the possibilities are there, all the activities are there, but in disorder and confusion. They are neither coordinated nor centralized nor unified around the central and unique truth and consciousness and will. So this brings us back precisely to this question of a collective yoga and of a collectivity capable of realizing it. What should this collectivity be?
It is certainly not an arbitrary construction of the type built by men, where everything is put pell-mell, without any order, without reality, and which is held together by only illusory ties. Here, these ties were symbolized by the hotels walls, while actually in ordinary human constructions (if we take a religious community, for example), they are symbolized by the building of a monastery, an identity of clothing, an identity of activities, an identity even of movementor to put it more precisely: everyone wears the same uniform, everyone gets up at the same time, everyone eats the same thing, everyone says his prayers together, etc.; there is an overall identity. But naturally, on the inside there remains the chaos of many disparate consciousnesses, each one following its own mode, for this kind of group identification, which extends right up to an identity of beliefs and dogma, is absolutely illusory.
Yet it is one of the most common types of human collectivityto group together, band together, unite around a common ideal, a common action, a common realization but in an absolutely artificial way. In contrast to this, Sri Aurobindo tells us that a true communitywhat he terms a gnostic or supramental communitycan be based only upon the INNER REALIZATION of each one of its members, each realizing his real, concrete oneness and identity with all the other members of the community; that is, each one should not feel himself a member connected to all the others in an arbitrary way, but that all are one within himself. For each one, the others should be as much himself as his own bodynot in a mental and artificial way, but through a fact of consciousness, by an inner realization.
--
So, the best way to use these meditations (and they are going to increase, since we are now also going to replace the distributions with short meditations) is to go deep within yourselves, as far as you can, and find the place where you can feel, perceive and perhaps even create an atmosphere of oneness wherein a force of order and organization can put each element in its true place, and out of the chaos existing at this hour, make a new, harmonious world surge forth.
The Supramental Manifestation, (Cent. Ed. XVI, pp. 33-36.)
0 1957-07-18, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
If I must have some new experience outside, this one has the advantage of being short-termed and not far away from India, and it is also in an interesting milieu. The only disadvantage is that I would have to pay for the trip as far as Kabul. But I dont want to do anything that displeases you or of which you do not really approve. In the event you might feel this to be a worthwhile experience, I would have to leave by the beginning of August.
I place this in your hands, sincerely.
0 1957-10-08, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
There is no question of my abandoning the path and I remain convinced that the only goal in life is spiritual. But I need things to help me along the way: I am not yet ripe enough to depend upon inner strength alone. And when I speak of the forest or a boat, it is not only for the sake of adventure or the feeling of space, but also because they mean a discipline. Outer constraints and difficulties help me, they force me to remain concentrated around that which is best in me. In a sense, life here is too easy. Yet it is also too hard, for one must depend on ones own discipline I do not yet have that strength, I need to be helped by outer circumstances. The very difficulty of life in the outside world helps me to be disciplined, for it forces me to concentrate all my vital strength in effort. Here, this vital part is unemployed, so it acts foolishly, it strains at the leash.
I doubt that a new experience outside can really resolve things, but I believe it might help me make it to the next stage and consolidate my inner life. And if you wish, I would return in a year or two.
0 1957-10-17, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And this new vibration in the body has allowed me to understand the mechanism of the transformation. It is not something that comes from a higher Will, not a higher consciousness that imposes itself upon the body: it is the body itself awakening in its cells, a freedom of the cells themselves, an absolutely new vibration that sets disorders righteven disorders that existed prior to the supramental manifestation.
Naturally, all this is a gradual process, but I am hopeful that little by little this new consciousness will grow, gain ground and victoriously resist the old forces of destruction and annihilation, and this Fatality we believed to be so inexorable.
0 1957-10-18, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I need a practical method corresponding to my present possibilities and to results of which I am presently capable. I feel that my efforts are dispersed by concentrating sometimes here, sometimes therea feeling of not knowing exactly what to do to break through and get out of all this. Would you point out some particular concentration to which I could adhere, a particular method that I would stick to?
I am well aware that a supple attitude is recommended in the Yoga, yet for the time being, it seems to me that one well-defined method would help me hold on1this practical aspect would help me. I will do it methodically, obstinately, until it cracks for good.
--
This unique method was to be the mantra, as Mother herself would discover.
***
0 1957-11-13, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Take upon yourself always all the necessities of progress and dissolve them in the ecstasy of Unity. Then you will be divine.
***
0 1957-12-21, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
This physical consciousness records all it sees, all your reactions, your thoughts, all the factswithout preference, without prejudice, without personal will. Nothing escapes it. Its work is almost mechanical. Therefore I know what to tell or to ask you according to the integral truth of your being and its present possibilities. Ordinarily, in the normal man, the physical consciousness does not see things as they are, for three reasons: because of ignorance, because of preference, and because of an egoistic will. You color what you see, eliminate what displeases you. In short, you see only what you desire to see.
Now, I recently had a very striking experience: a discrepancy occurred between my physical consciousness and the consciousness of the world. In some instances decisions made in the Light and the Truth produced unexpected results, upheavals in the consciousness of others that were neither foreseen nor desired, and I did not understand. No matter how hard I tried, I could not understand and I emphasize this word understand. At last, I had to leave my highest consciousness and pull myself down into the physical consciousness to find out what was happening. And there, in my head, I saw what appeared to be a little cell bursting, and suddenly I understood: the recording had been defective. The physical consciousness had neglected to register certain of your lower reactions. It could not have been through preference or through personal will (these things were eliminated from my consciousness long, long ago). But I saw that this most material consciousness was already completely permeated with the transforming supramental truth, and it could no longer follow the rhythm of normal life. It was much more attuned to the true consciousness than to the world! I couldnt possibly blame it for lagging behind; on the contrary, it was in front, too far ahead! There was a discrepancy between the rhythm of the transformation of my being and the worlds own rhythm. The supramental action on the world is slow, it does not act directlyit acts by infiltration, by traversing the successive layers, and the results are slow to come about. So I had to pull myself violently down in order to wait for the others.
One must at times know how not to know.
--
Humility, a perfect humility, is the condition for all realization. The mind is so cocksure. It thinks it knows everything, understands everything. And if ever it acts through idealism to serve a cause that appears noble to it, it becomes even more arrogant more intransigent, and it is almost impossible to make it see that there might be something still higher beyond its noble conceptions and its great altruistic or other ideals. Humility is the only remedy. I am not speaking of humility as conceived by certain religions, with this God that belittles his creatures and only likes to see them down on their knees. When I was a child, this kind of humility revolted me, and I refused to believe in a God that wants to belittle his creatures. I dont mean that kind of humility, but rather the recognition that one does not know, that one knows nothing, and that there may be something beyond what presently appears to us as the truest, the most noble or disinterested. True humility consists in constantly referring oneself to the Lord, in placing all before Him. When I receive a blow (and there are quite a few of them in my sadhana), my immediate, spontaneous reaction, like a spring, is to throw myself before Him and to say, Thou, Lord. Without this humility, I would never have been able to realize anything. And I say I only to make myself understood, but in fact I means the Lord through this body, his instrument. When you begin living THIS kind of humility, it means you are drawing nearer to the realization. It is the condition, the starting point.
***
0 1958-01-01, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And suddenly, as if resounding from every corner of the earth, I heard these great notes which are sometimes heard in the subtle physicalra ther like those of Beethovens Concerto in Dwhich come at moments of great progress, as though fifty orchestras were bursting forth all at once without a single discordant note, to sound the joy of this new communion of Nature and Spirit, the meeting of old friends who, after a long separation, find each other once more.
Then came these words: O Nature, Material Mother, thou hast said that thou wilt collaborate, and there is no limit to the splendor of this collaboration.
0 1958-01-22, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The diamond light of Bliss has the power to melt all hostile forces. Nothing can resist it. No consciousness, no being, no hostile will can draw near it without immediately being dissolved, for it is the Divine light in its pure creative power.
***
0 1958-02-03b - The Supramental Ship, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I found myself upon an immense ship, which is the symbolic representation of the place where this work is being carried out. This ship, as big as a city, is thoroughly organized, and it had certainly already been functioning for quite some time, for its organization was fully developed. It is the place where people destined for the supramental life are being trained. These people (or at least a part of their being) had already undergone a supramental transformation because the ship itself and all that was aboard was neither material nor subtle-physical, neither vital nor mental: it was a supramental substance. This substance itself was of the most material supramental, the supramental substance nearest the physical world, the first to manifest. The light was a blend of red and gold, forming a uniform substance of luminous orange. Everything was like that the light was like that, the people were like thateverything had this color, in varying shades, however, which enabled things to be distinguished from one another. The overall impression was of a shadowless world: there were shades, but no shadows. The atmosphere was full of joy, calm, order; everything worked smoothly and silently. At the same time, I could see all the details of the education, the training in all domains by which the people on board were being prepared.
This immense ship had just arrived at the shore of the supramental world, and a first batch of people destined to become the future inhabitants of the supramental world were about to disembark. Everything was arranged for this first landing. A certain number of very tall beings were posted on the wharf. They were not human beings and never before had they been men. Nor were they permanent inhabitants of the supramental world. They had been delegated from above and posted there to control and supervise the landing. I was in charge of all this since the beginning and throughout. I myself had prepared all the groups. I was standing on the bridge of the ship, calling the groups forward one by one and having them disembark on the shore. The tall beings posted there seemed to be reviewing those who were disembarking, allowing those who were ready to go ashore and sending back those who were not and who had to continue their training aboard the ship. While standing there watching everyone, that part of my consciousness coming from here became extremely interested: it wanted to see, to identify all the people, to see how they had changed and to find out who had been taken immediately as well as those who had to remain and continue their training. After awhile, as I was observing, I began to feel pulled backwards and that my body was being awakened by a consciousness or a person from here1and in my consciousness, I protested: No, no, not yet! Not yet! I want to see whos there! I was watching all this and noting it with intense interest It went on like that until, suddenly, the clock here began striking three, which violently jerked me back. There was the sensation of a sudden fall into my body. I came back with a shock, but since I had been called back very suddenly, all my memory was still intact. I remained quiet and still until I could bring back the whole experience and preserve it.
The nature of objects on this ship was not that which we know upon earth; for example, the clothes were not made of cloth, and this thing that resembled cloth was not manufacturedit was a part of the body, made of the same substance that took on different forms. It had a kind of plasticity. When a change had to be made, it was done not by artificial and outer means but by an inner working, by a working of the consciousness that gave the substance its form or appearance. Life created its own forms. There was ONE SINGLE substance in all things; it changed the nature of its vibration according to the needs or uses.
--
As for the people I saw aboard ship, I recognized them all. Some were here in the Ashram, some came from elsewhere, but I knew them as well. I saw everyone, but as I realized that I would not remember everyone when I came back, I decided not to give any names. Besides, it is unnecessary. Three or four faces were very clearly visible, and when I saw them, I understood the feeling that I have had here, on earth, while looking into their eyes: there was such an extraordinary joy On the whole, the people were young; there were very few children, and their ages were around fourteen or fifteen, but certainly not below ten or twelve (I did not stay long enough to see all the details). There were no very old people, with the exception of a few. Most of the people who had gone ashore were of a middle ageagain, except for a few. Several times before this experience, certain individual cases had already been examined at a place where people capable of being supramentalized are examined; I had then had a few surprises which I had noted I even told some people. But those whom I disembarked today I saw very distinctly. They were of a middle age, neither young children nor elderly people, with only a few rare exceptions, and this quite corresponded to what I expected. I decided not to say anything, not to give any names. As I did not stay until the end, it would be impossible for me to draw an exact picture, for it was neither absolutely clear nor complete. I do not want to say things to some and not say them to others.
What I can say is that the criterion or the judgment was based EXCLUSIVELY on the substance constituting the peoplewhe ther they belonged completely to the supramental world or not, whether they were made of this very special substance. The criterion adopted was neither moral nor psychological. It is likely that their bodily substance was the result of an inner law or an inner movement which, at that time, was not in question. At least it is quite clear that the values are different.
--
But instead of feeling grieved, morose, rebellious, discontent, I had rather the feeling of what I spoke of at the end: of such a ridiculous absurdity that for several days I was seized with an uncontrollable laughter whenever I saw things and people! Such a tremendous laughter, so absolutely inexplicable (except to me), because of the ridiculousness of these situations.
When I invited you on a voyage into the unknown, a voyage of adventure,2 I did not know just how true were my words! And I can promise those who are ready to embark upon this adventure that they will make some very astonishing discoveries.
Indeed, one of the people near Mother had pulled Her out of the experience.
0 1958-04-03, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I was waiting for things to be well established in me before writing you again. An important change has occurred: it seems that something in me has clickedwhat Sri Aurobindo calls the central will, perhapsand I am living literally in the obsession of divine realization. This is what I want, nothing else, it is the only goal in life, and at last I have understood (not with the head) that the outer realization in the world will be the consequence of the inner realization. So thousands of times a day, I repeat, Mother, I want to be your instrument, ever more conscious, I want to express your truth, your light. I want to be what you want, as you want, when you want. There is in me now a kind of need for perfection, a will to abolish this ego, a real understanding that to become your instrument means at the same time to find the perfect plenitude of ones personality. So I am living in an almost constant state of aspiration, I feel your force constantly, or nearly so, and if I am distracted a few minutes, I experience a void, an uneasiness that calls me back to you.
And at the same time, I saw that it is you who is doing everything, you who aspires in me, you who wants the progress, and that all I myself am in this affair is a screen, a resisting obstacle. O Mother, break this screen that I may be wholly transparent before you, that your transforming force may purify all the secret recesses in my being, that nothing may remain but you and you alone. O Mother, may all my being be a living expression of your light, your truth.
0 1958-05-10, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
From the negative point of view I mean the difficulties to be overcomeone of the most serious obstacles is that the ignorant and falsifying outer consciousness, the ordinary consciousness legitimizes all the so-called physical laws, causes, effects and consequences, all that science has discovered physically and materially. All this is an unquestionable reality to the consciousness, a reality that remains independent and absolute even in the face of the eternal divine Reality.
And it is so automatic that it is unconscious.
When it is a question of movements like anger, desire, etc., you recognize that they are wrong and must disappear, but when material laws are in questionlaws of the body, for example, its needs, its health, its nourishment, all those things they have such a solid, compact, established and concrete reality that it appears absolutely unquestionable.
Well, to be able to cure that, which of all the obstacles is the greatest (I mean the habit of putting spiritual life on one side and material life on the other, of acknowledging the right of material laws to exist), one must make a resolution never to legitimize any of these movements, at any cost.
--
Tapasya: yogic discipline or askesis.
May 1, 1958.
0 1958-05-11 - the ship that said OM, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Something quite curious took place during a recent meditation. I no longer recall when exactly, but it was at a time when there were many visitors, for the courtyard was full. After perhaps no more than a few minutes, I suddenly heard a distinct voice, coming from my right, say OM, like that. And then a second time, OM. What an impact it had upon me! I felt an emotion here (gesture towards the heart) as I have not felt for years and years and years. And all, all, all was filled with light, with forceit was absolutely marvelous. It was an invocation, and during the whole meditation the Presence was resplendent.
I said to myself, Who could have done that? I was not sure if only I had heard it, so I asked. The reply was, But it was the ship leaving! There was actually a ship which had left during the night3that is in support of those who said it was a ship. But for me, it was SOMEONE because I felt someone there and I thought, Oh! If someone, in the ardor of his soul, said that in this what I could call an atheistic silence. Because people here are so afraid of following tradition, of being the slaves of the old things, that they cast out anything closely or remotely resembling religion.
--
Mother is referring to her 'Darshan' when four times a year She appeared on her balcony high above the assembled mass of disciples and visitors on the street below. The 'darshan days' were February 21, April 24, August 15 and November 24.
Tamas: in Indian psychology, inertia and obscurity.
0 1958-05-30, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
As a matter of fact, my tendency is more and more towards something in which the role of these hostile forces will be reduced to that of an examinerwhich means that they are there to test the sincerity of your spiritual quest. These elements have a reality in their action and for the workthis is their great reality but when you go beyond a certain region, it all grows dim to such a degree that it is no longer so well defined, so distinct. In the occult world, or rather if you look at the world from the occult point of view, these hostile forces are very real, their action is very real, quite concrete, and their attitude towards the divine realization is positively hostile; but as soon as you go beyond this region and enter into the spiritual world where there is no longer anything but the Divine in all things, and where there is nothing undivine, then these hostile forces become part of the total play and can no longer be called hostile forces: it is only an attitude that they have adoptedor more precisely, it is only an attitude adopted by the Divine in his play.
This again belongs to the dualities that Sri Aurobindo speaks of in (The Synthesis of Yoga, these dualities that are being reabsorbed. I dont know if he spoke of this particular one; I dont think so, but its the same thing. Its again a certain way of seeing. He has written of the Personal-Impersonal duality, Ishwara-Shakti, Purusha-Prakriti but there is still one more: Divine and anti-divine.
0 1958-06-06 - Supramental Ship, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
As for the latest experience,1 I cant say for sure that no one has ever had it, because someone like Ramakrishna, individuals like that, could have had it. But I am not sure, for when I had this experience (not of the divine Presence, which I had already felt in the cells for a long time, but the experience that the Divine ALONE is acting in the body, that He has BECOME the body, yet all the while retaining his character of divine omniscience and omnipotence) well, the whole time it remained actively like that, it was absolutely impossible to have the LEAST disorder in the body, and not only in the body, but IN ALL THE SURROUNDING MATTER. It was as if every object obeyed without even needing to decide to obey: it was automatic. There was a divine harmony in EVERYTHING (it took place in my bathroom upstairs, certainly to demonstrate that it exists in the most trivial things), in everything, constantly. So if that is established in a permanent way, there CAN NO LONGER be illness it is impossible. There can no longer be accidents, there can no longer be illness, there can no longer be disorders, and everything should harmonize (probably in a progressive way) just as that was harmonized: all the objects in the bathroom were full of a joyful enthusiasmeverything obeyed, everything!
As it was the first experience, it started to fade slightly when I began having contact with people; but I really had the feeling that it was a first experience, new upon earth. For I have experienced an absolute identity of the will with the divine Will ever since 1910, it has never left me. It isnt that, its SOMETHING ELSE. It is MATTER BECOMING THE DIVINE. And it really came with the feeling that this thing was happening for the first time upon earth. It is difficult to say for sure, but Ramakrishna died of cancer, and now that I have had the experience, I know in an ABSOLUTE way that this is impossible. If he had decided to go because the Divine wanted him to go, it would have been an orderly departure, in total harmony and with a total will, whereas this illness is a means of disorder.
Is this experience of May 1 related to the Supramental Manifestation of 1956? Is it a supramental experience?
--
Its action will be somewhat similar to what is described in the Last Judgment, which is an entirely symbolic expression of something that makes us discern between what belongs to the world of falsehood which is destined to disappear and what belongs to this same world of ignorance and inertia but is transformable. One will go to one side and the other to the other side. All that is transformable will be permeated more and more with this new substance and this new consciousness to such an extent that it will rise towards it and serve as a link between the two but all that belongs incorrigibly to falsehood and ignorance will disappear. This was also prophesied in the Gita: among what we call the hostile or anti-divine forces, those capable of being transformed will be uplifted and go off towards the new consciousness, whereas all that is irrevocably in darkness or belongs to an evil will shall be destroyed and vanish from the Universe. And a whole part of humanity that has responded to these forces rather too zealously will certainly vanish with them. And this is what was expressed in this concept of the Last Judgment.
May 1, 1958.
0 1958-07-02, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
When the Grace acts on the collectivity, each thing, each element, each principle, is put in its place as the result of a karmic logic in the universal movement. This is what gives us the impression of disorder and confusion as we see it.
When the Grace acts on the individual, it gives to each the maximum position according to what he is and what he has realized.
0 1958-07-06, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
You see, this is how it happened: theres this Ganesh2 We had a meditation (this was more than thirty years ago) in the room where Prosperity3 is now distributed. There were eight or ten of us, I believe. We used to make sentences with flowers; I arranged the flowers, and each one made a sentence with the different flowers I had put there. And one day when the subject of prosperity or wealth came up, I thought (they always say that Ganesh is the god of money, of fortune, of the worlds wealth), I thought, Isnt this whole story of the god with an elephant trunk merely a lot of human imagination? Thereupon, we meditated. And who should I see walk in and park himself in front of me but a living being, absolutely alive and luminous, with a trunk that long and smiling! So then, in my meditation, I said, Ah! So its true that you exist!Of course I exist! And you may ask me for whatever you wish, from a monetary standpoint, of course, and I will give it to you!
So I asked. And for about ten years, it poured in, like this (gesture of torrents). It was incredible. I would ask, and at the next Darshan, or a month or several days later, depending, there it was.
--
But yesterday, in fact, I was looking (with all these mantras and these prayers and this whole vibration that has descended into the atmosphere, creating a state of constant calling in the atmosphere), and I remembered the old movements and how everything now has changed! I was also thinking of the old disciplines, one of which is to say, I am That.7 People were told to sit in meditation and repeat, I am That, to reach an identification. And it all seemed to me so obsolete, so chil dish, but at the same time a part of the whole. I looked, and it seemed so absurd to sit in meditation and say, I am That! I, what is this I who is That; what is this I, where is it? I was trying to find it, and I saw a tiny, microscopic point (to see it would almost require some gigantic instrument), a tiny, obscure point in an im-men-sity of Light, and that little point was the body. At the same timeit was absolutely simultaneous I saw the Presence of the Supreme as a very, very, very, VERY immense Being, within which was I in an attitude of (I was only a sensation, you see), an attitude (gesture of surrender) like this. There were no limits, yet at the same time, one felt the joy of being permeated, enveloped and of being able to widen, widen, widen indefinitelyto widen the whole being, from the highest consciousness to the most material consciousness. And then, at the same time, to look at this body and to see every cell, every atom vibrating with a divine, radiant Presence with all its Consciousness, all its Power, all its Will, all its Loveall, all, really and a joy! An extraordinary joy. And one did not disturb the other, nothing was contradictory and everything was felt at the same time. That was when I said, But truly! This body had to have the training it has had for more than seventy years to be able to bear all that without starting to cry out or dance or leap up or whatever it might be! No, it was calm (it was exultant, but it was very calm), and it remained in control of its movements and its words. In spite of the fact that it was really living in another world, it could apparently act normal due to this strenuous training in self-control by the REASONby the reasonover the whole being, which has tamed it and given it such a great cohesive power that I can BE in the experience, I can LIVE this experience, and at the same time respond with the most amiable of smiles to the most idiotic questions!
And then, it always ends in the same way, by a canticle to the action of the grace: O, Lord! You are truly marvelous! All the experiences I have needed to pass through You have given to me, all the things I needed to do to make this body ready You have made me do, and always with the feeling that it was You who was making me do itand with the universal disapproval of all the right-minded humanity!
About one million dollars.
--
The room where, on the first of each month, Mother distributed to the disciples their needs for the month.
Asuras: the demons or dark forces of the mental plane.
--
In effect, according to tradition, the first divine forces that emanated for the creation were the Asuras, who turned into demons. The gods were created later to repair the disorder engendered by the demons.
So'ham, the traditional mantra of the Vedantic path, which declares that the world is an illusion.
0 1958-07-19, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
It is mans mental consciousness that has filled all Nature with the idea of sin and all the misery it brings. Animals are not at all unhappy in the way we are. Not at all, not at all, exceptas Sri Aurobindo saysthose that are corrupted. Those that are corrupted are those that live with men. Dogs have the sense of sin and guilt, for their whole aspiration is to resemble man. Man is the god. Hence there is dissimulation, hypocrisy: dogs lie. But men admire that. They say, Oh! How intelligent they are!
They have lost their divinity.
--
It is an ascending curve, but a curve that swerves away from the Divine. So naturally, one has to climb much higher to find a higher Divine, since it is a conscious Divine, whereas the others are divine spontaneously and instinctively, without being conscious of it. All our moral notions of good and evil, all of that, are what we have thrown over the creation with our distorted and perverted consciousness. It is we who have invented it.
We are the distorting intermediary between the purity of the animal and the divine purity of the gods.
***
0 1958-07-21, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Human beings dont know how to keep energy. When something happensan accident or an illness, for example and they ask for help, a double or a triple dose of energy is sent. If they happen to be receptive, they receive it. This energy is given for two reasons: to restore order out of the disorder caused by the accident or illness, and to impart a transformative force to repair or change the source of the illness or accident.
But instead of using the energy in this way, they immediately throw it out. They start stirring about, reacting, working, speaking They feel full of energy and they throw it all out! They cant keep anything. So naturally, since the energy was not sent to be wasted like that but for an inner use, they feel absolutely flat, run down. And it is universal. They dont know, they do not know how to make this movementto turn within, to use the energy (not to keep it, it doesnt keep), to use it to repair the damage done to the body and to go deeply within to find the reason for this accident or illness, and there to change it by an aspiration, an inner transformation. Instead of that, right away they start speaking, stirring about, reacting, doing this or that!
--
Not to waste energy means to utilize it towards the ends for which it was given. If energy is given for the transformation, for the sublimation of the being, it must be used for that; if energy is given to restore something that has been disrupted in the body, it must be used for that.
Naturally, if a special work is given to someone along with the energy to do this work, its very good as long as it is being used towards the end for which it was given.
0 1958-08-08, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
What problems come up! If there were a plague or cholera, for example, would the supramental Force in the cells, the supramental realization, be able to restore order out of the disorder that allows the epidemic to be? I dont mean on an individual levelindividually, if you are in a certain consciousness, you can remain untouched I am not speaking of that, I am speaking impersonally, as it were.
We know nothing. We believe we know, but as soon as it is a question of that (the body), we know nothing. As soon as we are in the subtle physical, we know everything, we live in bliss but here, we know nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing.
0 1958-08-09, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Anusuya: wife of the rishi Atri and endowed with a great inner force. In her husband's absence, three gods came (Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva) disguised as brahmins and asked her for something to eat. Then they refused to eat unless she served them naked. Since they were brahmins, she could not send them away without feeding them, so by her inner power, she changed them into babies and served them naked. This film was shown at the Ashram Playground on August 5, 1958.
***
0 1958-08-29, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
[Satprem would later part company with this Swami and follow a thorough tantric discipline with another guru who will henceforth be called X in the Agenda.]
The mantra written upon each of the souvenirs1 from the Himalayas has a strong power of evoking the Supreme Mother.
0 1958-08-30, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
[The disciple who managed the Ashram 'Atelier': mechanical workshop, maintenance garage, automobile service, etc.]
It was just at four oclock in the morning, and it woke me up. It was exactly like this I was apparently in my bathroom, and I had to open the door between the bathroom and Sri Aurobindos room; the moment I put my hand on the doorknob, I knew with an absolute certainty that destruction was awaiting me behind the door. It had the form or image of those great invaders of India, those who had swooped down upon India and destroyed everything in their wake But it was only an impression.
--
A young disciple who worked in the Atelier.
***
0 1958-09-16 - OM NAMO BHAGAVATEH, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I had a mantra in French before coming to Pondicherry. It was Dieu de bont et de misricorde [God of kindness and mercy], but what it means is usually not understoodit is an entire program, a universal program. I have been repeating this mantra since the beginning of the century; it was the mantra of ascension, of realization. At present, it no longer comes in the same way, it comes rather as a memory. But it was deliberate, you see; I always said Dieu de bont et de misricorde, because even then I understood that everything is the Divine and the Divine is in all things and that it is only we who make a distinction between what is or what is not the Divine.
My experience is that, individually, we are in relationship with that aspect of the Divine which is not necessarily the most in conformity with our natures, but which is the most essential for our development or the most necessary for our action. For me, it was always a question of action because, personally, individually, each aspiration for personal development had its own form, its own spontaneous expression, so I did not use any formula. But as soon as there was the least little difficulty in action, it sprang forth. Only long afterwards did I notice that it was formulated in a certain way I would utter it without even knowing what the words were. But it came like this: Dieu de bont et de misricorde. It was as if I wanted to eliminate from action all aspects that were not this one. And it lasted for I dont know, more than twenty or twenty-five years of my life. It came spontaneously.
0 1958-10-01, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
It was so strong, so strong that it was really inexpressible. The negative experience of no longer being an individual, or in other words, the dissolution of the ego, took place a long time ago and still takes place quite often: the ego completely vanishes. But this was a positive experience of being not just the universe in its totality, but something elseineffable, yet concrete, absolutely concrete! Unutterable1and yet utterly concrete: the divine Person beyond the Impersonal.
The experience lasted for only a few minutes. And I knew, then, that all our words all our words are empty. But circumstances were such that I had to speak
0 1958-10-04, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
For people here in the Ashram, my work is not the same. It is more like a kind of atmosphere that extends everywherea very conscious atmospherewhich I let work for each one according to his need. I dont have a special action for each person, unless something requires my special attention. When I would tune into you while you were travelling, I clearly saw your image appear before me, as though you were looking at me, but now that you have returned here, I no longer see it. Rather, I receive a sensation or an impression; and as these sensations and impressions are innumerable, its rather like one element among many. It no longer imposes itself in such an entirely distinct way nor does it appear before me in the same manner, as a clear image of yourself, as though you wanted to know something.
As soon as I am alone, I enter into a very deep concentration,a state of consciousness, a kind of universal activity. Is it deep? What is it? It is far beyond all the mental regions, far, far beyond, and it is constant. As soon as I am alone or resting somewhere, thats how it is.
--
When you asked me if X4 were thinking of me, I consulted my atmosphere and saw that it was true, that even many times a day Xs thoughts were coming. So I know that he is concentrating on me, or something: it simply passes through me, and I answer automatically. But I dont particularly pay attention to X, unless you ask me a question about him, in which case I deliberately tune into him, then observe and determine whether its like this or like that. Whereas this vision the other day was something that thrust itself on me; I was in another region altogether, in my inner contemplation, my concentrationa very strong concentrationwhen I was forced to enter into contact with this being whose vision I had and who was obviously a very powerful being. After telling me what he had to tell me, he went away in a very peculiar way, not at all suddenly as most people appear and disappear, not at all like that. When I first saw him, there was a living form the being himself was there but upon leaving (probably to see the effect, to find out whether he had truly succeeded in making himself understood), he left behind a kind of image of himself. Afterwards, this image blurred and it left only a silhouette, an outline, then it disappeared altogether leaving only an impression. That was the last thing I saw. So I kept the impression and analyzed it to find out exactly what was involved; all this was filed away, and then it was over. I began my concentration once again.
I intentionally carry everybody in my active consciousness for the work, and I do the work consciously; but the extent to which people in the world, or those who are here in the Ashram, are conscious of this or receive the results depends upon them, though not exclusively.
--
There is an interdependence between the individual progress and the collective progress, between that which works and that which is worked upon. It proceeds like this (gesture of intermeshing), and as one progresses, the other progresses. The progress above not only hastens the progress below but brings the two nearer together, thus changing the distance in the relationship; that is, the distance will not remain the same, the ratio between the progress here and the progress above wont always be identical.
The progress above follows a certain trajectory, and in some cases the distance increases, in others it decreases (although on the whole, the distance remains relatively unchanged), but my feeling is that the collective receptivity will increase as the action becomes increasingly supramentalized. And the need for an individual receptivitywith all its distortions and alterations and limitationswill decrease in importance as the supramental influence increasingly imposes its power. This influence will impose itself in such a way that it will no longer be subject to the defects in receptivity.
***
--
Before, I always had the negative experience of the disappearance of the ego, of the oneness of Creation, where everything implying separation disappearedan experience that, personally, I would call negative. Last Wednesday, while I was speaking (and thats why at the end I could no longer find my words), I seemed suddenly to have left this negative phenomenon and entered into the positive experience: the experience of BEING the Supreme Lord, the experience that nothing exists but the Supreme Lordall is the Supreme Lord, there is nothing else. And at that moment, the feeling of this infinite power that has no limit, that nothing can limit, was so overwhelming that all the functions of the body, of this mental machine that summons up words, all this was I could no longer speak French. Perhaps the words could have come to me in Englishprobably, because it was easier for Sri Aurobindo to express himself in English, and thats how it must have happened: it was the part embodied in Sri Aurobindo (the part of the Supreme that was embodied in Sri Aurobindo for its manifestation) that had the experience. This is what joined back with the Origin and caused the experience I was well aware of it. And that is probably why its transcription through English words would have been easier than through French words (for at these moments, such activities are purely mechanical, rather like automatic machines). And naturally the experience left something behind. It left the sense of a power that can no longer be qualified,5 really. And it was there yesterday evening.
The difficultyits not even a difficulty, its just a kind of precaution that is taken (automatically, in fact) in order to For example, the volume of Force that was to be expressed in the voice was too great for the speech organ. So I had to be a little attentive that is, there had to be a kind of filtering in the outermost expression, otherwise the voice would have cracked. But this isnt done through the will and reason, its automatic. Yet I feel that the capacity of Matter to contain and express is increasing with phenomenal speed. But its progressive, it cant be done instantly. There have often been people whose outer form broke because the Force was too strong; well, I clearly see that it is being dosed out. After all, this is exclusively the concern of the Supreme Lord, I dont bother about itits not my concern and I dont bother about itHe makes the necessary adjustments. Thus it comes progressively, little by little, so that no fundamental disequilibrium occurs. It gives the impression that ones head is swelling so tremendously it will burst! But then if there is a moment of stillness, it adapts; gradually, it adapts.
Only, one must be careful to keep the sense of the Unmanifest sufficiently present so that the various things the elements, the cells and all thathave time to adapt. The sense of the Unmanifest, or in other words, to step back into the Unmanifest.6 This is what all those who have had experiences have done; they always believed that there was no possibility of adaptation, so they left their bodies and went off.
--
But how many people know how to use it in this way? Very few, which is why they have to be taught. What I call teach is to show, to give the example. We want to be the example of true living in the world. Its a challenge I am placing before the whole financial world: I am telling them that they are in the process of withering and ruining the earth with their idiotic system; and with even less than they are now spending for useless thingsmerely for inflating something that has no inherent life, that should be only an instrument at the service of life, that has no reality in itself, that is only a means and not an end (they make an end of something that is only a means)well then, instead of making of it an end, they should make it the means. With what they have at their disposal they could oh, transform the earth so quickly! Transform it, put it into contact, truly into contact, with the supramental forces that would make life bountiful and, indeed, constantly renewedinstead of becoming withered, stagnant, shrivelled up: a future moon. A dead moon.
We are told that in a few millions or billions of years, the earth will become some kind of moon. The movement should be the opposite: the earth should become more and more a resplendent sun, but a sun of life. Not a sun that burns, but a sun that illuminesa radiant glory.
--
When the disciple became a Sannyasi and travelled in the Himalayas with the tantric Swami
In this vision, the d. ceased tantric guru of the guru who initiated Satprem appeared to Mother in a dark blue light and 'imposed' himself on her to tell her certain things.
The disciple's tantric guru.
We believe that Mother used the word 'qualified' in the sense of restrict, limit Or modifya limitless Power.
0 1958-10-06, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(The disciple complains of his difficulties)
Difficulties are sent to us exclusively to make the realization more perfect.
--
So this habit of cringing, of being discouraged or even feeling ill at ease or abusing oneself, saying, There, Ive done it again All this is absolute foolishness.
Rather, simply say, We do not know how to do things as they should be done, well then, let them be done for us and come what may! If we could only see how everything that looks like a difficulty, an error, a failure or an obstacle is simply there to help us make the realization more perfect.
0 1958-10-10, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(The disciple asks to know what he must do and what his place is in the universal manifestation)
In all religious and especially occult initiations, the ritual of the different ceremonies is prescribed in every detail; all the words pronounced, all the gestures made have their importance, and the least infraction of the rule, the least fault committed can have fatal consequences. It is the same in material lifeif one had the initiation into the true way of living, one could transform physical existence.
--
Those who have what I would call the more outer relationship compared to the other (although it is not really so)the relationship of yoga, of sadhanaconsider the others superstitious; and the others, who have faith OI perception, or the Grace to have understood what Sri Aurobindo meant (perhaps even before knowing what he said, but in any event, after he said it), discard the others as ignorant unbelievers! And there are all the gradations in between, so it really becomes quite funny!
It opens up extraordinary horizons; once you have understood this, you have the keyyou have the key to many, many things: the different positions of each of the different saints, the different realizations and it resolves all the incoherencies of the various manifestations on earth.
--
Sadhana: yogic discipline. Sadhak: seeker.
Mother added: 'The most beautiful part of the experience is missing... When I try to formulate something in too precise a way, all the vastness of the experience evaporates. The entire world is being revealed in all its organization down to the minutest details but everything simultaneouslyhow can that be explained? It's not possible.'
0 1958-10-17, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
'If mankind only caught a glimpse of what infinite enjoyments, what perfect forces, what luminous reaches of spontaneous knowledge, what wide calms of our being lie waiting for us in the tracts which our animal evolution has not yet conquered, they would leave all and never rest till they had gained these treasures. But the way is narrow, the doors are hard to force, and fear, distrust and scepticism are there, sentinels of Nature to forbid the turning away of our feet from less ordinary pastures.'
Cent. Ed. Vol. XVII, p. 79
0 1958-10-25 - to go out of your body, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Concerning the disciple's tantric guru)
When X does his puja, I clearly see the particular form of the Mother he is invoking I see her descending.
--
So they sit down (they are told to interiorize, to go within themselves), and they panic!Naturally they feel that they that they are disappearing: there is nothing! There is no consciousness!
Purusha: the Being or the Self that witnesses and supports the Becoming.
0 1958-11-04 - Myths are True and Gods exist - mental formation and occult faculties - exteriorization - work in dreams, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Shortly afterwards, the disciple again brings up the topic of August 9, where Mother had said that the gods are a good deal worse than human beings)
It should be said that we are speaking of the Puranic gods, because the Christians, for example, do not understand what this can mean. They have an entirely different conception of the gods.
--
They are beings who belong to the progressive creation of the universe and who have themselves presided over its formation from the most etheric or subtle regions to the most material regions. They are a descent of the divine creative Spirit that came to repair the mischief in short, to repair what the Asuras had done. The first makers created disorder and darkness, an unconsciousness, and then it is said that there was a second lineage of makers to repair that evil, and the gods gradually descended through realities that were ever moreone cant say dense because it isnt really dense, nor can one even say material, since matter as we know it does not exist on these planesthrough more and more concrete substances.
All these zones, these planes of reality, received different names and were classified in different ways according to the occult schools, according to the different traditions, but there is an essential similarity, and if we go back far enough into the various traditions, hardly anything but words differ, depending upon the country and the language. The descriptions are quite similar. Moreover, those who climb back up the ladderor in other words, a human being who, through his occult knowledge, goes out of one of his bodies (they are called sheaths in English) and enters into a more subtle bodyin order to ACT in a more subtle body and so forth, twelve times (you make each body come out from a more material body, leaving the more material body in its corresponding zone, and then go off through successive exteriorizations), what they have seen, what they have discovered and seen through their ascensionwhe ther they are occultists from the Occident or occultists from the Orientis for the most part analogous in description. They have put different words on it, but the experience is very analogous.
There is the whole Chaldean tradition, and there is also the Vedic tradition, and there was very certainly a tradition anterior to both that split into two branches. Well, all these occult experiences have been the same. Only the description differs depending upon the country and the language. The story of creation is not told from a metaphysical or psychological point of view, but from an objective point of view, and this story is as real as our stories of historical periods. Of course, its not the only way of seeing, but it is just as legitimate a way as the others, and in any event, it recognizes the concrete reality of all these divine beings. Even now, the experiences of Western occultists and those of Eastern occultists exhibit great similarities. The only difference is in the way they are expressed, but the manipulation of the forces is the same.
--
So very probably there was a tradition anterior to both. I have recollections (for me, these are always things I have LIVED), very clear, very distinct recollections of a time that was certainly VERY anterior to the Vedic times and to the Cabala, to the Chaldean tradition.
But now, there is only a very small number of people in the West who know that it isnt merely subjective or imaginative (the result of a more or less unbridled imagination), and that it corresponds to a universal truth.
--
Naturally, children know a great dealif they have not been spoiled. There are many children who return to the same place night after night and continue living a life they have begun there. When these faculties are not spoiled with age, they can be preserved within one. There was a time when I was especially interested in dreams, and I could return exactly to the same place and continue some work I had begun there, visit something, for example, or see to something, some work of organization or some discovery or exploration; you go to a certain place, just as you go somewhere in life, then you rest a while, then you go back and begin againyou take up your work just where you left it, and you continue. You also notice that there are things entirely independent of you, certain variations which were not at all created by you and which occurred automatically during your absence.
But then, you must LIVE these experiences yourself; you yourself must see, you must live them with enough sincerity to see (by being sincere and spontaneous) that they are independent of any mental formations. Because one can take the opposite line and make an intensive study of the way mental formations act upon eventswhich is very interesting. But thats another field. And this study makes you very careful, very prudent, because you start noticing to what extent you can delude yourself. Therefore, both one and the other, the mental formation and the occult reality, must be studied to see what the ESSENTIAL difference is between them. The one exists in itself, entirely independent of what we think about it, and the other
--
(Later, the disciple asks Mother for some clarification on the essential difference between the occult reality and mental formations)
Once you have worked in this field, you realize that when you have studied a subject, when you have mentally understood something, it gives a special tonality to the experience. The experience may be quite spontaneous and sincere, but the simple fact of having known this subject and of having studied it gives a particular tonality; on the other hand, if you have learned nothing of the subject, if you know nothing at all, well, when the experience comes, the notation of it is entirely spontaneous and sincere. It can be more or less adequate, but it is not the result of a former mental formation.
--
(Then the disciple asks for details on going out of each successive body into the next, more subtle one)
There are subtle bodies and subtle worlds that correspond to these bodies; it is what the psychological method calls states of consciousness, but these states of consciousness really correspond to worlds. The occult process consists in becoming aware of these various inner states of being, or subtle bodies, and of mastering them sufficiently to be able to make one come out of the other, successively. For there is a whole hierarchy of increasing subtletiesor decreasing, depending upon the direction and the occult process consists in making a more subtle body come out from a denser body, and so forth, right to the most ethereal regions. You go out through successive exteriorizations into more and more subtle bodies or worlds. Each time it is rather like passing into another dimension. In fact, the fourth dimension of the physicists is only the scientific transcription of an occult knowledge.
0 1958-11-11, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
When I write something, I dont expect people to understand it, but I try to avoid the least possible distortion of the experience or the image in this kind of shrinking towards expression.
What is this spring?
0 1958-11-14, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I feel disguised.1 And I detest hypocrisy I have many faults, but not that one.
So I believe it would be better for me to leave.
0 1958-11-15, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Concerning an experience Mother had on November 13 in regard to the disciple's difficulties)
Truly speaking, perhaps one is never rid of the hostile forces as long as one has not permanently emerged into the Light, above the lower hemisphere. There, the term hostile forces loses its meaning; they become only forces of progress, they force you to progress. But to see things in this way, you have to get out of the lower hemisphere, for below, they are very real in their opposition to the divine plan.
--
It is precisely this state of perfect Harmony beyond all attacks that will become possible with the supramental realization. It is what all those who are destined for the supramental transformation will realize. The hostile forces know it well; in the supramental world, they will automatically disappear. Having no more utility, they will be dissolved without our having to do anything, simply through the presence of the supramental force. So now they are being unleashed with a fury in a negation of everything, everything.
The link between the two worlds has not yet been built, but it is in the process of being built; this was the meaning of the experience of February 3 1958, 1: to build a link between the two worlds. For both worlds are indeed therenot one above the other, but within each other, in two different dimensions. Only, there is no communication between them; they overlap, as it were, without being connected. In the experience of February 3, I saw certain people from here (and from elsewhere) who already belong to the supramental world in a part of their being, but there is no connection, no link. But now the hour has come in universal history for this link to be built.
0 1958-11-20, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Mother tries to find the origin of the disciple's difficulties)
I dont have all the information, otherwise certainly Two things made me see I saw them the other day. First of all, when you didnt understand my letter, for I wrote it to a part of you that without any doubt should have understood; I was referring to something other than what is seen and known by this part of you which is this center, this knot of revolt that seems to resist everything, that really remains knotted, in spite of your experiences and the strides you have made, as well as your openings. And what made me see is especially the fact that it resists experiences, it is not touched by experiences; this was the point that did not understand what I wrote. Because the part of you that had the experience must necessarily understand what I wrote, without the shadow of a doubt.
--
I had the last vision yesterday evening. You were much taller than you are now; you were wearing the orange robe, and you were backed up against a door of bronze, a bronze door like the door of a temple or a palace but at the same time it was symbolic (it was a fact, it actually took place like this, but at the same time it was symbolic). And unfortunately, it didnt last because I was disturbed. But it contained the key.
I was VERY HAPPY with the vision, for there was a great POWER, though it was rather terrible. But it was magnificent. When I saw that, I This vision was given to me because I had concentrated with a will to find the solution, a true solution, an enduring and permanent solution that is, I had this spontaneous gratitude which goes out to the Grace when it brings some effective help. Only, what followed was interrupted by someone who came to call me and that cut it short, but it will return.
0 1958-11-22, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And ifit can happenif the second attempt also miscarries, if the conditions make the experience the soul is seeking still more difficult for example, if one is in a body with an inadequate will or some distortion in the thought, or an egoism too too hardened, and it ends in suicide, it is dreadful. I have seen this many times, it creates a dreadful karma that can be repeated for lifetimes on end before the soul can conquer it and manage to do what it wants. And each time, the conditions become more difficult, each time it requires a still greater effort. And people who know this say, You cannot get out! In fact, it is this kind of desire to escape which pushes you into more foolish things3 that result in a still greater accumulation of difficulty. There are momentsmoments and circumstanceswhen no one is there to help you, and then things become so horrible, the circumstances become so abominable.
But if the soul has had but ONE call, but ONE contact with the Grace, then in your next life you are put in the conditions, once, whereby EVERYTHING can be swept away at one stroke. And at this present moment on earth, you cannot imagine the number of people I have met that is, the number of soulswho had reached out towards this possibility with such an intensity and they have all found themselves on my path.
--
It is difficult without a strong will; and above all, above all the capacity to resist the temptation, which was the fatal temptation throughout all ones livesbecause its power builds up. Each defeat gives it renewed force. But a tiny victory can dissolve it.
Oh, the most terrible of all is when one does not have the strength, the courage, something indomitable! How many times do they come to tell me, I want to die, I want to flee, I want to die.I say, But die, then, die to yourself! No one is asking you to let your ego survive! Die to yourself since you want to die! Have that courage, the true courage, to die to your egoism.
But because it is karma, one must, one must DO something oneself. Karma is the construction of the ego; the ego MUST DO something, everything cannot be done for it. This is it, THIS is the thing: karma is the result of the egos actions, and only when the ego abdicates is the karma dissolved. One can help it along, one can assist it, give it strength, bestow courage upon it, but the ego must then make use of it.
(silence)
--
And then, more and more, I felt that if what I saw, as I saw it, could be realized I saw two things: a journeynot at all a pilgrimage as it is commonly understooda journey towards solitude in arduous conditions, and a sojourn in a very severe solitude, facing the mountains, in arduous physical conditions. The contact with this majesty of Nature has a great influence upon the ego at certain moments: it has the power to dissolve it. But all this complication, all these organized pilgrimages, all that it brings in the whole petty side of human life which spoils everything
Yes, that whole journey was odious
--
But when you returned the second time, from the Himalayas, you didnt have the same flame as when you returned the first time. And I understood that this kind of difficult karma still clung to you, that it had not been dissolved. I had hoped that your contact with the mountains but in a true solitude (I dont mean that your body had to be all alone, but there should not have been all kinds of outer, superficial things) Anyway, it didnt happen. So it means that the time had not come.
But when here the difficulties returned and because of their obstinacy, their appearance of an inevitable fatality I concluded that it was a karma, although I knew it with certainty only now.
--
The first tantric guru whom the disciple joined in Ceylon and with whom he travelled in the Himalayas.
Original English.
--
The disciple wanted to leave for the forest, the Congo, to do the most unlikely things there.
***
0 1958-11-27 - Intermediaries and Immediacy, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Concerning the disciple's karma and the tantric discipline that he is following to dissolve this karma, Mother wonders why She herself had not been able to dissolve it directly and why it was necessary to resort to intermediaries)
I am used to seeing the process or the working of things more from a spiritual point of view, something more universal, whereas this needs to be seen from a detailed, occult point of view.
--
And when I studied this, when I looked at this science of processes, of intermediaries, suddenly I clearly understood the working of karma, which I had not understood before. I had worked and intervened quite often to change someones karma, but sometimes I had to wait, without exactly knowing why the result was not immediate. I simply used to wait without worrying about the reasons for this slowness or delay. Thats how it was. And generally it ended, as I said, with the exact vision of the karmas source, its initial cause; and scarcely would I have this vision when the Power would come, and the thing would be dissolved. But I didnt bother about finding out why it was like that.
One day I had mentioned this to X1 when he was showing me or describing to me the different movements of the pujas, the procedure, the process of the puja. I said to him, Oh, I see! For the action to be immediate, for the result to be immediate, one must acknowledge, for example, the role or the participation of certain spirits or certain forces and enter into a friendly relationship or collaboration with these forces in order to obtain an immediate result, is it not so? Then he told me, Yes, otherwise it leaves an indefinite time to the play of the forces, and you dont know when you will get the result of your puja.
That interested me very much. Because one of the obstacles I had felt was that although the Force was acting well, there was a time lag that appeared inevitable, a time element in the work which seemed unavoidablea play left to the forces of Nature. But with their knowledge of the processes, the tantrics can dispense with all that. So I understood why those who have studied, who are initiated and follow the prescribed methods are apparently more powerfulmore powerful even than those who are conscious in the highest consciousness.
What interested me is that in their case (those who follow tantric or other initiations), what is doubtful is whether or not they can succeed in receiving the response of the true Power, the divine power, the supreme power; they do everything they can, but this question still remains. Whereas for me, it is the opposite situation: the Power is there, I have it, but how can I make it act here in matter? The process for making it act immediately was missingthough not totally; I know from the psychological standpoint, but there is something other than the psychological power, there is the whole play of conscious, individualized forces that are everywhere in Nature and that have the right to exist. Since it was created this way, it must express something of the supreme Will, otherwise He wouldnt have made use of intermediaries but in His plan, it is obvious that the intermediary has a legitimate place.
--
It remains to be seen if all this has first to be mastered before there is even the possibility of holding the Supramental, of FIXING it in the manifestation. That is the great difference. For example, those with the power to materialize forces or beings lack the capacity to fix them, for these are fluid things which act and are then dissolved. That is the difference with the physical world where it is this condensation of energy that makes things (Mother strikes the arms of her chair) stable. All the things in the extraphysical realms are not stable, they are fluidfluid and consequently uncertain.3
The disciple's tantric guru.
The deceased guru of the disciple's guru.
A few days later, the disciple left on a journey, then Mother fell 'ill.' It was to be the first great turning in her yoga: the beginning of the yoga of the cells.
***
0 1958-11-28, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
As it is, the physical body is really only a very disfigured shadow of the eternal life of the Self, but this physical body is capable of a progressive development; the physical substance progresses through each individual formation, and one day it will be able to build a bridge between physical life as we know it and the supramental life that is to manifest.
***
0 1958-12-04, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Otherwise, if you consider it preferable to wait, I could go join Swami in Rameswaram, discarding all my little personal reactions towards him. And I would try my best to find again the Light of the first time and return to you stronger. I dont know. I will do what you say. All this really has to change. I dont know, moreover, whether Swami wishes to have me.
Mother, I need you, I need you. Forgive me and tell me what I should do.
0 1958-12-24, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Your last letter was a great comfort to me. If you were not there, with me, everything would be so absurd and impossible. I am again disturbing you because Swami tells me that you are worried and that I should write to you. Not much has changed, except that I am holding on and am confident. Yesterday, I again suffered an agonizing wave, in the temple, and I found just enough strength to repeat your name with each beat of my heart, like someone drowning. I remained as motionless as a pillar of stone before the sanctuary, with only your name (my mantra would not come out), then it cleared. It was brutal. I am confident that with each wave I am gaining in strength, and I know you are there. But I am aware that if the enemy is so violent it is because something in me responds, or has responded, something that has not made its surrender that is the critical point. Mother, may your grace help me to place everything in your hands, everything, without any shadow. I want so much to emerge into the Light, to be rid of all this once and for all.
I am following Swamis instructions to the letter. Sometimes it all seems to lack warmth and spontaneity, but I am holding on. I might add that we are living right next to the bazaar, amidst a great racket 20 hours a day, which does not make things easier. So I repeat my mantra as one pounds his fists against the walls of a prison. Sometimes it opens a little, you send me a little joy, and then everything becomes better again.
--
I have received your letter of the 24th. You did well to write, not because I was worried, but I like to receive news for it fixes my work by giving me useful material details. I am glad that X is doing something for you. I like this man and I was counting upon him. I hope he will succeed. Perhaps his work will be useful here, too for I have serious reasons to believe that this time occult and even definite magic practices aimed directly against my body have been mixed in with the attacks. This has complicated things somewhat, so as yet I have not resumed any of my usual activities I am still upstairs resting, but in reality fighting. Yesterday, the Christmas distribution took place without me, and it is likely that it will be the same for January 1st. The work, too, has been completely interrupted. And I do not yet know how long this will last.
Keep me posted on the result of Xs action; it interests me very much
0 1958 12 - Floor 1, young girl, we shall kill the young princess - black tent, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Two or three days after I retired to my room upstairs,1 early in the night I fell into a very heavy sleep and found myself out of the body much more materially than I do usually. This degree of density in which you can see the material surroundings exactly as they are. The part that was out seemed to be under a spell and only half conscious. When I found myself at the first floor where everything was absolutely black, I wanted to go up again, but then I discovered that my hand was held by a young girl whom I could not see in the darkness but whose contact was very familiar. She pulled me by the hand telling me laughingly, No, come, come down with me, we shall kill the young princess. I could not understand what she meant by this young princess and, rather unwillingly, I followed her to see what it was. Arriving in the anteroom which is at the top of the staircase leading to the ground floor, my attention was drawn in the midst of all this total obscurity to the white figure of Kamala2 standing in the middle of the passage between the hall and Sri Aurobindos room. She was as it were in full light while everything else was black. Then I saw on her face such an expression of intense anxiety that to comfort her I said, I am coming back. The sound of my voice shook off from me the semi-trance in which I was before and suddenly I thought, Where am I going? and I pushed away from me the dark figure who was pulling me and in whom, while she was running down the steps, I recognized a young girl who lived with Sri Aurobindo and me for many years and died five years back. This girl during her life was under the most diabolical influence. And then I saw very distinctly (as through the walls of the staircase) down below a small black tent which could scarcely be perceived in the surrounding darkness and standing in the middle of the tent the figure of a man, head and face shaved (like the sannyasin or the Buddhist monks) covered from head to foot with a knitted outfit following tightly the form of his body which was tall and slim. No other cloth or garment could give an indication as to who he could be. He was standing in front of a black pot placed on a dark red fire which was throwing its red dish glow on him. He had his right arm stretched over the pot, holding between two fingers a thin gold chain which looked like one of mine and was unnaturally visible and bright. Shaking gently the chain he was chanting some words which translated in my mind, She must die the young princess, she must pay for all she has done, she must die the young princess.
Then I suddenly realized that it was I the young Princess and as I burst into laughter, I found myself awake in my bed.
--
A disciple
***
0 1959-01-06, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
His action here has been very effective and really very interesting. I still do not know whether someone has really done black magic, and the villain has yet to appear before me. But already several days ago the malefic influence completely disappeared without leaving any trace in the atmosphere. Also their mantric intervention did not stop at that, for it has had another most interesting result. I am preparing a long letter for Swami to explain all this to him
The pain on the left side has not entirely gone and there have been some complications which have delayed things. But I feel much better. In fact, I am rebuilding my health, and I am in no hurry to resume the exhausting days as before. It is quiet upstairs for working, and I am going to take advantage of this to prepare the Bulletin1 at leisure. As I had not read over the pages on the message that we had prepared for the 31st, I have revised and transformed them into an article. It will be the first one in the February issue. I am now going to choose the others. I will tell you which ones I have chosen and in what order I will put them.
0 1959-01-14, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
This morning, X told me that he would be most happy to continue his action upon you if it would help your work; he has continued it anyway, even after knowing that the malefic influence was expelled from the Ashram. By the way, X told me that this evil spirit is continuing to circle around the Ashram, but beyond its borders. Therefore, if you agree, it would be necessary for him to come to Pondicherry one of these days to come to grips directly with the evil one and finish him off in such a way that he can no longer come to disturb the sadhaks, or your work, upon the slightest pretext. Then X could force this spirit to appear before him, and thereby free the atmosphere from its influence. Anyway, this trip to Pondicherry would not take place in the near future, and it would be easy to give him an official excuse: seminars on the Tantra Shastra that will interest all the Sanskritists at the Ashram. Moreover, Xs work would be done quietly in his room when he does his daily puja. From here, from Rameswaram, it is rather difficult to attract Pondicherrys atmosphere and do the work with precision. Of course, nothing will be done without your express consent. Swami is writing you on his own to tell you of the revelation that X received from his [deceased] guru concerning your experience and the schemings of certain Ashram members.
In this regard, perhaps you know that X is the tenth in the line of Bhaskaraya (my spelling of this name is perhaps not correct), the great Tantric of whom you had a vision, who could comm and the coming of Kali along with all her warriors. It is from X that Swami received his initiation.
--
I am taking advantage of this situation to work. I have chosen the articles for the Bulletin. They are as follows: 1) Message. 2) To keep silent. 3) Can there be intermediary states between man and super-man? 4) The Anti-Divine. 5) What is the role of the spirit? 6) Karma (I have touched this one up to make it less personal). 7) The Worship of the Supreme in Matter. Now I would like to prepare the first twelve Aphorisms3 for printing. But as you have not yet revised the last two, I am sending them to you. Could you do them when you have finished what you are doing for the Bulletin? It is not urgent, take your time. Do not disturb your real work for this in any way. For, in my eyes, this work of inner liberation is much more important.
You will find in this letter a little money. I thought you might need it for your stamps, etc.
0 1959-01-21, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I will therefore give you initiation this Friday or Saturday, on the day of the full moon or the day before. This first stage will last three months during which you will have to repeat 1 lakh2 times the mantra that I will give you. At the end of three months, I will come to see you in Pondicherryor you will come here for a fortnight, and as soon as I have received the message from my guru, I will give you the second stage that will last three months as well. At the end of these three months, you will receive the full initiation. X warned me that the first stage I am to receive provokes attacks and tests but that all this disappears with the second stage. Forewarned is forearmed. For what reason I do not know, but X told me that the particular nature of my initiation should remain secret and that he will say nothing about it to Swami, and he added (in speaking of the speed of the process), But you will not be less than the Swami. (!!) There, I wanted you to knowbesides, you were present in Xs vision. All this happened at a time when I was in the most desperate crisis I have ever known. Sweet Mother, there is no end to expressing my gratitude to you, and yet with the least trial, I am reduced to nothing. Why have you so much grace for me?
I would like very much to return to Pondicherry for the February Darshan and once again begin working for you. Today I am sending a second lot to Pavitra and tomorrow I will start on the Aphorisms, for I do not want to make you wait any longer. I will send a third and final lot to Pavitra by the end of the month, in time for printing. I am very touched, sweet Mother, by your attention and the money you are sending me.
--
Sweet Mother, do not waste time writing to me; you have so many things to do and I feel a little awkward disturbing you so often.
***
--
I was waiting to answer your letter of the 21st until the Friday and Saturday you mentioned had gone by. And then I felt that you were returning the Aphorisms, so I waited a bit more. I have just received them along with your letter of the 23rd, but I have not yet looked at them. Besides, if you intend returning for the February darshan, I think it would be preferable for us to revise the whole book together. There will not be very much work on my side since the Wednesday and Friday classes were discontinued in the beginning of December, and I still do not know when they will resume.3 Right now, I am translating the Aphorisms all alone and it seems to go quickly and well. This could also be revised and the book on the Dhammapada prepared for publication.
For the time being, I am going downstairs only in the mornings at 6 for the balcony darshan and I immediately come back up without seeing anyone then in the afternoons, I go down once more at about 3 to take my bath and at 4:30 I come back up again. I do not yet know what will happen next month. I shall have to find some way to meet you so that we can work together I am going to think it over.
0 1959-01-27, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
My body would also like to have a mantra to repeat. Those it has are not enough for it anymore. It would like to have one to hasten its transformation. It is ready to repeat it as many times as needed, provided that it does not have to be out loud, for it is very rarely alone and does not want to speak of this to anyone. Truly, the Ashram atmosphere is not very favorable for this kind of thing. You will have to take precautions so as not to be disturbed or interrupted in an inopportune way. Domestic servants, curious people, so-called friends can all serve as instruments of the hostile forces to put a spoke in the wheels. I will do my best to protect you, but you will have a lot to do yourself and will have to be as firm as an iron rod.
I am not writing you all this to discourage you from coming. But I want you to succeed; for me that is more important than anything else, no matter what the price. So, know for certain that I am with you all the time and more so especially when you repeat your mantra
In constant communion in the effort towards victory; my love and my force never leave you.
0 1959-03-10 - vital dagger, vital mass, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(The disciple returned to the Ashram, but as he was very quickly seized again by his mania for the road, the Agenda of 1959, alas, is strewn with great gaps and is almost nonexistent. The following conversation is in regard to one of Mother's commentaries on the Dhammapada: 'Evil')
I spent a nighta night of battlewhen, for some reason or other, a multitude of vital formations of all kinds entered into the room: beings, things, embryos of beings, residues of beingsall kinds of things And it was a frightful assault, absolutely disgusting.
In this swarming mass, I noticed the presence of some slightly more conscious willswills of the vital plane and I saw how they try to awaken a reaction in the consciousness of human beings to make them think or want, or if possible, do certain things.
--
But had that not happened I was watching, not exactly with curiosity, but in order to learnto learn what kind of atmosphere people live in! And it is ALWAYS like that! They are always pestered by HORDES of little formations that are absolutely swarming and disgusting, each one making its nasty little suggestion.
Take these movements of anger, for example, when someone is carried away by his passion and does things which, in his normal state, he would never do: he is not doing it, it is done by these little formations which are there, swarming in the atmosphere, just waiting for an occasion to rush in.
0 1959-03-26 - Lord of Death, Lord of Falsehood, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The power of this Titan comes from an Asura. There are four Asuras. Two have already been converted, and the other two, the Lord of Death and the Lord of Falsehood, made an attempt at conversion by taking on a physical bodythey have been intimately associated with my life. The story of these Asuras would be very interesting to recount The Lord of Death disappeared; he lost his physical body, and I dont know what has become of him.1 As for the other, the Lord of Falsehood, the one who now rules over this earth, he tried hard to be converted, but he found it disgusting!
At times he calls himself the Lord of Nations. It is he who sets all wars in motion, and only by thwarting his plans could the last war be won This one does not want to be converted, not at all. He wants neither the physical transformation nor the supramental world, for that would spell his end. Besides, he knows We talk to each other; beyond all this, we have our relationship. For after all, you see (laughing), I am his mother! One day he told me, I know you will destroy me, but meanwhile, I will create all the havoc possible.
--
In the end, only the Supramental will have the power to destroy it. When the hour comes, all this will disappear, without any need to do anything.
It was Theon.
0 1959-05-25, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The disciple's tantric guru.
***
0 1959-05-28, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I did not utter the words that you heard I wanted to speak to you of my experience during the night, but I was paralyzed because I clearly felt that you no longer understood me. As soon as I received your letter, I concentrated on you in an effort to help you, and when night fell, just at the hour I enter into contact with X, I called for his helpwhereupon he sent me this little Kali whom he had already sent once before. So I went to your house, I took you in my arms and pressed you tightly to my heart to keep you as sheltered as possible from blows, and I let Kali do her warrior dance against this titan who is always trying to possess you, creating this rebelliousness in you. She must have at least partially succeeded in her work, because very early in the morning the titan went away somewhat discomfited, but while leaving, he flung this at me as he went by: You will regret it, for you would have had less trouble if he had left. I flung his suggestion back in his face with a laugh and told him, Take that, along with all the rest of your ugly person! I have no need of it! And the atmosphere cleared up.
I wanted to tell you all this, but I couldnt because you were still far away from me and it would have seemed like boasting. Also the misunderstanding created by the distance made you hear other words than those I uttered.
***
0 1959-06-03, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Regarding me, this is more or less what he said: First of all, I want an agreement from you so that under any circumstances you never leave the Ashram. Whatever happens, even if Yama1 comes to dance at your door, you should never leave the Ashram. At the critical moment, when the attack is the strongest, you should throw everything into His hands, then and then only the thing can be removed (I no longer know whether he said removed or destroyed ). It is the only way. SARVAM MAMA BRAHMAN [Thou art my sole refuge]. Here in Rameswaram, we are going to meditate together for 45 days, and the Asuric-Shakti may come with full strength to attack, and I shall try my best not only to protect but to destroy, but for that, I need your determination. It is only by your own determination that I can get strength. If the force comes to make suggestions: lack of adventure, lack of Nature, lack of love, then think that I am the forest, think that I am the sea, think that I am the wife (!!) Meanwhile, X has nearly doubled the number of repetitions of the mantra that I have to say every day (it is the same mantra he gave me in Pondicherry). X repeated to me again and again that I am not merely a disciple to him, like the others, but as if his son.
This was a first, hasty conversation, and we did not discuss things at length. I said nothing. I have no confidence in my reactions when I am in the midst of my crises of complete negation. And truly speaking, at the time of my last crisis in Pondicherry, I do not know if it was really Xs occult working that set things right, for personally (but perhaps it is an ignorant impression), I felt that it was thanks to Sujata and her childlike simplicity that I was able to get out of it.
In any event, since I left Pondicherry, I have been living like a kind of robot (it began in the train); I am empty, void of the least feeling for whomever it may be. I keep going by a kind of acquired momentum, but actually I feel completely anesthetized.
--
Certainly his political rage is not only understandable but justified. However, when one begins looking at things from the external viewpoint of the manifestation, they are not as simple as that. I cannot speak of all this in detail, but as an example I can tell you that here in Pondicherry, those who are maneuvering (and not without some hope) to oust the Congress are our worst enemies, the enemy of all that is disinterested and spiritual, and if they come to power, they would be capable of anything in their hate.
For all these world events, I always leave it to the Divine vision and wisdom, and I say to the Supreme: Lord, may Thy Will be done.
0 1959-06-07, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
2) X gave me certain details about his powers of prediction, but perhaps it would be better not to speak of this in a letter. On that occasion, he told me that he did not want to keep any secrets from me: I want you to know everything. I want you to be chief disciple in my tradition. When the time comes, you will understand what I mean. With you I have full connection, not only connection in my mind, but in my blood and body.
On another occasion, he said to me, I am ALWAYS taking care of you. And when I asked him why he was taking such trouble for me, he replied, Because I have orders. This attention that comes to me from you and him surprises me, for I do not feel that I am good, and upon the least occasion I know that I am seriously prepared to quit everything because something in me is profoundly revolted by this excess of suffering, by a lack of love and flowering, by an excess of solitude. Yesterday evening, it was still fully there, with all my approval, and at such a time no one in the world can hold me back. It is this POINT OF SUFFERING that makes me want to turn my back on everything. Not to commit suicide: to turn my back.
0 1959-06-09, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
In spite of all my revolts, I need you, I need truth, Light, and love. I feel I have already known all this, had all this, and that I have been dispossessed. Perhaps that is why I suffer.
Mother, lead me towards you, I am blind and without strength.
0 1959-06-13a, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I have received your last two letters of the 10th and 11th. I told X what you wrote about this trip to France and that your finances are in an almost desperate state. He replied with perfect assurance, Soon it will increase, very soon it will change. I am obviously hesitant to accept your generous offer and I do not know what I should do. I had never thought of returning to France, except in a distant future. I dont know why X told me that I should return there, except perhaps because he felt who my mother is. I know that she is sad, that she believes me lost to her and thinks she will die without seeing me again. It would surely be a great joy to her. But other than that, I have no desire to go there, for each time I go to France, I feel like I am entering a prison. Naturally I would be happy for my mothers joy; she is a great soul, but is this reason enough?
Sunday, 14th
0 1959-06-25, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I had said nothing to X about these various dreams before he told me the story of my last three existences: three times I committed suicide the first by fire, the second by hanging, and the third by throwing myself into the void. During the first of these last three existences, I was married to a very good woman, but for some reason I abandoned my wife and I was wandering here and there in search of something. Then I met a sannyasi who wanted to make me his disciple, but I could not make up my mind, I was neither this side nor that side, whereupon my wife came to me and pleaded with me to take her back. Apparently I rejected herso she threw herself into the fire. Horror-stricken, I followed her, throwing myself into the fire in turn. That was when I created a connection with certain beings [of the other worlds] and I fell under their power. For two other lives, under the influence of these beings, the same drama was repeated with a few variations.
During the second of these last three existences, I was married to the same woman whom I again abandoned under the influence of the same monk, and I again remained between two worlds wandering here and there. Again my wife came to plead with me and again I pushed her away. She hung herself, and I hung myself in turn.
0 1959-10-06 - Sri Aurobindos abode, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
For the West, with all its outward development, a few centuries may be needed before the junction between the two worlds can be made. And yet these two worlds the physical world and the world of Truthare not distant from one another. They are as if superimposed. The world of Truth is there, close by, like a lining of the other.
Shortly before the 15th of August I had a unique experience that exemplifies all this.1 For the first time the supramental light entered directly into my body, without passing through the inner beings. It entered through the feet (a red and gold colormarvelous, warm, intense), and it climbed up and up. And as it climbed, the fever also climbed because the body was not accustomed to this intensity. As all this light neared the head, I thought I would burst and that the experience would have to be stopped. But then, I very clearly received the indication to make the Calm and Peace descend, to widen all this body-consciousness and all these cells, so that they could contain the supramental light. So I widened, and as the light was ascending, I brought down the vastness and an unshakable peace. And suddenly, there was a second of fainting.
--
In fact, when I walk back and forth in my room, I dont cut myself off from the rest of the worldalthough it would be so much more convenient! All kinds of things come to mesuggestions, wills, aspirations. But automatically I make a movement of offering: things come to me and just as they are about to touch my head, I turn them upwards and offer them to the Light. They dont enter into me. For example, if someone speaks to me while I am saying my japa, I hear quite well what is being said, I may even answer, but the words remain a little outside, at a certain distance from the head. And yet sometimes, there are things that insist, more defined wills that present themselves to me, so then I have to do a little work, but all that without a pause in the japa. If that happens, there is sometimes a change in the quality of my japa, and instead of being fully the power, fully the light, it is certainly something that produces results, but results more or less sure, more or less long to fructify; it becomes uncertain, as with all things of this physical world. Yet the difference between the two japas is imperceptible; its not a difference between saying the japa in a more or less mechanical way and saying it consciously, because even while I work I remain fully conscious of the japa I continue to repeat it putting the full meaning into each syllable. But nevertheless, there is a difference. One is the all-powerful japa; the other, an almost ordinary japa There is a difference in the inner attitude. Perhaps for the japa to become true, a kind of joy, an elation, a warmth of enthusiasm has to be added but especially joy. Then everything changes.
Well, it is the same thing, the same imperceptible difference, when it comes to entering the world of Truth. On one side there is the falsehood, and on the other, close by, like the lining of this one, the true life. Only a little difference in the inner quality, a little reversal, is enough to pass to the other side, into the Truth and Light.
0 1959-10-15, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Sweet Mother, I have such a yearning for everything in my consciousness to harmonize and for the tantric discipline, the japa, etc., not to separate me from you. I want to be your child, open to you, without any contradictions. I would like so much to find your almost physical Presence within me again, as before. May all be clear, pure, one.
I would wish to be like Sujata, completely transparent, your child with her at your feet. Mother, help me. I need you. Sujata is healing something that was very painful in me, as though it were flayed or wounded, and which threw me into revolt. With this calming influence, I would like to begin a new life of self-giving. This change of residence is for me like the symbol of another change. Oh, Mother! may the painful road be over, and may all be achieved in the joy of your Will.
0 1960-01-28, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Of all forms of ego, you might think that the physical ego is the most difficult to conquer (or rather, the body ego, because the work was already done long ago on the physical ego). It might be thought that the form of the body is a point of concentration, and that without this concentration or hardness, physical life would not be possible. But thats not true. The body is really a wonderful instrument; its capable of widening and of becoming vast in such a way that everything, everything the slightest gesture, the least little taskis done in a wonderful harmony and with a remarkable plasticity. Then all of a sudden, for something quite stupid, a draft, a mere nothing, it forgetsit shrinks back into itself, it gets afraid of disappearing, afraid of not being. And everything has to be started again from scratch. So in the yoga of matter you start realizing how much endurance is needed. I calculated it would take 200 years to say ten crore of my japa. Well, Im ready to struggle 200 years if necessary, but the work will be done.
Sri Aurobindo had made it clear to me when I was still in France that this yoga in matter is the most difficult of all. For the other yogas, the paths have been well laid, you know where to tread, how to proceed, what to do in such-and-such a case. But for the yoga of matter, nothing has ever been done, never, so at each moment everything has to be invented.
--
'It wants to live only to conquer.' Then the next day, Mother sent the following note to the disciple: 'Friday, 1.29.60yesterday, when I left you, the experience was there, but in my hurry to leave, the words did not come correctly, or rather they were incomplete (I had said, 'to live only to conquer'). What my body was experiencing was, 'Live to win the Lord's Victory.'
***
0 1960-01-31, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Letter from Mother to the disciple concerning her former commentaries on the 'Dhammapada' at the Playground)
When I began the readings from the Dhammapada, I had hoped that my listeners would take enough interest in the practical spiritual side for me to read only one verse at a time. But quite quickly, I saw they found this very boring and were making no effort to benefit from the meditation. The only solution then was to treat the matter as an intellectual study, which is why I started reading chapter by chapter.
0 1960-03-03, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
When I came down that evening for distribution,2 at first I was annoyed. I had said that I didnt want anybody in the hall, precisely because I wanted to establish an atmosphere of concentration, the immobility of the Spirit but there were at least thirty people in there, those who had decorated the hall, thirty of them stirring, stirring about, a mass of little vibrations. And before I could even say scat I had hardly taken my seatsomeone put the tray of medals on my lap and they started filing past.
But what is surprising is that in a flash, no one was there any longer. No one, you understand I was gone. Perhaps I was everywhere (but in fact I am always everywhere, I am always conscious of being everywhere at the same time), though normally there is the sense of the body, a physical center, but that evening there was no more center! Nothing, no one, not even the sense that there was no onenothing. I was gone. There was indeed something handing out the medals which felt the joy of giving the medal, the joy of receiving it, the joy of mutually looking at each other. It was simply the joy of the action taking place, the joy of looking, this joy everywhere, but me?Nothing, no one, gone. Only later, afterwards, did I see what had happened, for everything had disappeared, even the higher mind that understands and organizes things (by understand I mean contain, which contains things). That also was gone. And this lasted the entire distribution. Only when that [the body] had gone back upstairs to the room did the consciousness of what is me return.
There is a line by Sri Aurobindo in Savitri which expresses this very well: to annul oneself so that only the Supreme Lord may be.
--
On this first anniversary of the Supramental Manifestation, Mother distributed medals commemorating the occasion to the disciples filing past.
***
0 1960-03-07, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
My words are a bit disjointed but Im not in the mood to give an articulate discourse. Which is a way of saying, once again, how happy I amand grateful.
With my warmest regards,
0 1960-04-07, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
A few lines to tell you that I miss you. I truly realize more and more that I shall never be happy until I have disappeared in you entirely. There must be nothing left but That. I understand well enough, but Im so blocked, so thick. In any case, I think of you a lot and I really only live by this something that pulls me deep within. If that were not there, it would all be so absurd.
Ive booked my ticket to Rameswaram for the evening of the 13th, so I will probably reach there on the 15th.
0 1960-04-13, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Yesterday was distribution. I am putting six handkerchiefs in this envelope for you and to give to others if you wish. I am also enclosing the April 24 message.
Always with you, in love and joy.
0 1960-05-06, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
At times I sense theres an extraordinary secret to discover, just there at my finger tips; I feel that I am going to catch the Thing, to know
Sometimes, for a second, I see the Secret; there is an opening, and again it closes. Then once again it is unveiled for a second and I come to know a little more. Yesterday the Secret was there completely clear, wide open. But its not something that can be explained: words are silly, it must be experienced.
0 1960-05-16, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Tamas: inertia. Later, Mother would discover that this is not tamas but something else.
***
0 1960-05-21 - true purity - you have to be the Divine to overcome hostile forces, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
When X is here, I get the impression that things are going backwards instead of forwards. But once hes left, I suddenly leap ahead. And then I perceive that the progress is a real progress, that things won have really been won and they dont come undone again. That is Xs true power, a very material power. For I often feel that things could come into being, they could be realized in the consciousness above (and the vision is there, the Power is there, I have it the invisible power over the earth). But when you come down to the material plane, everything is uncertain. Whereas with X, once things have come down, they no longer dissipate. This is certainly why the Supreme put him on my path.
For example, there was one difficulty he helped me resolve. I have always been literally pestered, constantly, night and day, by all kinds of thoughts coming from peopleall kinds of calls, questions, formations2 that have naturally to be answered. For I have trained myself to be conscious of everything, always. But it disturbed me in the work, particularly when I needed absolute concentration and I could never cut myself off from people or cut myself off from the world. I had to answer all these calls and these questions, I had to send the necessary force, the necessary light, the healing power, I constantly had to purify all these formations, these thoughts, these wills, these false movements that were falling on me.
What was needed was to effect a shift, a sort of transference upwards, a lifting up of all these things that come to meso that each one, each thing, each circumstance could directly and automatically receive the force from above, the light, the response from above, and I would be a mere intermediary and a channel of the Light and the Force.
--
Formations, in occult language, refer to all the psychological movements and impulses, conscious or unconscious, constantly emanating from the disciples and others, and which leave an imprint in the subtle atmosphere or a wandering entity seeking to fulfill itself.
***
0 1960-05-24 - supramental flood, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
It happened last night. For approximately three hours, the physical ego disintegrated for the first time in such a total way.
Nothing remained but the Force, nothing remained but Sat-Chit-Ananda,1 and not only in the consciousness but in the physical sensation the divine Satchidananda spreading in a constant flood throughout the universe.
--
After all that, towards the end of the night, at two in the morning, only a kind of faint suggestion was left: How can this statewhich I knew in trance, in samadhi, and which necessitates lying downbecome constant in a physical body which moves about? There is something to discover there. And what form will it take? For in my consciousness, you see, it is constantly like that, this universal flood, but the problem is IN THE BODY: its the problem of the Force in its most material form.
And during the time my experience lasted, I had no feeling of anything exceptional, but rather simply the fact that after all its preparation, the body consciousness was ready for a total identification with Thatin my consciousness its always the same, a perpetual, constant and eternal state in that it never leaves me. Its like that, and it never varies. What diminishes the immensity of the Vibration are the limitations of the material consciousness which can color it and even sometimes change it by giving it a personal appearance. Thus, when I see someone and speak to him, for example, when my eyes concentrate on the person, I have almost the sensation of this flood flowing from me towards the person or of it passing through me to go onto the person. There is an awareness of the eyes, the body. And it is this which limits or even changes a little the immensity of the thing But already this feeling has almost disappeared; this immensity seems to be acting almost constantly. There are moments when I am less interiorized, when I am more on the surface, and it feels like its passing through a bodymoments when the body consciousness comes back a little. And this is what diminishes the thing.
This experience last night also enabled me to understand what X had felt during one of our meditations. He had explained his experience by way of saying that I was this mystic tree whose roots plunge into the Supreme and whose branches spread forth over the world,3 and he said that one of these branches had entered into himand it had been a unique experience. He had said, this is the Mother.
0 1960-05-28 - death of K - the death process- the subtle physical, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
I think they do it here (apart from entirely sanitary considerations in the case of people who have died from nasty diseases), here in India, mainly because they are very afraid of all these little entities that come from desires, impulsesthings which are dispersed in the air and which make ghosts and all kinds of things. All desires, all attachments, all those things are like pieces that break off (each one goes its own way, you see), then these pieces gain strength in the surrounding atmosphere, and when they can fasten on to someone, they vampirize him. Then they keep on trying to satisfy their desires.
The world, the terrestrial atmosphere, is full of filth.
--
I think that many of these entities are dispersed by fire that creates havoc.
I know one person, a boy who died here, who was burned before he had left! He had a weak heart, and not enough care was taken that is, they probably should not have operated on him. He was our engineer. He died in the hospital. Not a serious operation, an appendicitis, but his heart could not take up its natural movement.
0 1960-06-03, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Im a bit discouraged. Every night I slip into a black abyss from which I wake up in the morning drained. Not one second of conscious sleep. It takes me an hour to recuperate from my sleep. In fact, I am constantly on edge and the least thing exhausts my body.
But thats nothing. I would bear all the exhaustion quite willingly if there were at least a touch of something conscious. But nothing, as if I were as thick as a Paris concierge!
0 1960-06-04, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(The disciple complains of his bad nights)
If you wake up tired in the morning, it is due to tamas, nothing elsea dreadful mass of tamas. I became aware of this when I started doing the yoga of the body. And its inevitable as long as the body is not transformed.
Myself, I go to bed very early, at eight oclock. Its still quite noisy everywhere, but I dont mind; at least Im sure of no longer being disturbed. First you must stretch out flat and relax all your muscles, all your nervesyou can learn this easilybecome like a dishrag on the bed, as I call it; there should be nothing left. And if you can also do that with the mind, you get rid of a lot of idiotic dreams that make you more tired when you wake up than when you went to bed; they are the result of the cellular activity of the brain going on uncontrollably, which is very tiring. Therefore, relax fully, bring everything to a complete, tensionless calm in which everything has stopped. But this is only the beginning.
Once Im relaxed, I have developed the habit of repeating my mantra. But its very strange with these mantras I dont know how it is for others; Im speaking of my own mantra, the one I myself foundit came spontaneously. Depending on the occasion, the time, depending on what I might call the purpose for repeating it, it has quite different results. For example, I use it to establish the contact while walking back and forth in my roommy mantra is a mantra of evocation; I evoke the Supreme and establish the contact with the body.
This is the main reason for my japa. Theres a power in the sound itself, and by forcing the body to repeat the sound, you force it to receive the vibration at the same time. But Ive noticed that if something in the bodys working gets disturbed (a pain or disorder, the onset of some illness) and I repeat my mantra in a certain waystill the same words, the same mantra, but said with a certain purpose and above all in a movement of surrender, surrender of the pain, the disorder, and a call, like an openingit has a marvelous effect. The mantra acts in just the right way, in this way and in no other. And after a while everything is put back in order. And simultaneously, of course, the precise knowledge of what lies behind the disorder and what I must do to set it right comes to me. But quite apart from this, the mantra acts directly upon the pain itself.
I also use my mantra to go into trance. After relaxing on the bed and making as total a self-offering as possible of everything, from top to bottom, and after removing as fully as possible all resistance of the ego, I start repeating the mantra.1 After repeating it two or three times, I am in trance (at the beginning it took longer). And from this trance I pass into sleep; the trance lasts as long as necessary and, quite naturally, spontaneously, I pass into sleep. And when I come back, I remember everything. The sleep was like a continuation of the trance. And essentially, the only reason for sleep is to allow the body to assimilate the results of the trance, then to allow these results to be accepted throughout and to let the body do its natural nights work of eliminating toxins. My periods of sleep practically dont exist sometimes they are as short as half an hour or 15 minutes. But in the beginning, I had long periods of sleep, one or even two hours in succession. And when I woke up, I did not feel this residue of heaviness which comes from sleep the effects of the trance continued.
0 1960-06-07, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(the disciple grimaces)
Are you sure? Believe it or not, but Im not so sure.
--
I dont know (In a disgusted tone) Really I dont know. It feels like only some dynamite could make all that move.
Huh?
--
So then I thought, This surely must have had some effect (on the disciple). What has happened? I am I was literally in peace.
And thats really how it was Hmm, maybe thats what its like for an infant shut up in his mothers womb, so he kicks about in every direction and for a long time. Hes had enough of being shut in.
--
(Mother looks at the disciple)
Good.
--
The disciple is still complaining about his nights.
The disciple means in meditationto imagine Mother in her physical form or to use her physical form as an 'object' of meditation. In fact, he was very afraid of getting caught.
***
0 1960-06-11, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
The same thing occurs, there is the same difference, when I say something and when I see it (for example, when I look at one of those essential problems that will be solved only when the world changes). When I look at that in silence, there is a power of life and truthwhich evaporates when its put into words. It becomes diminished, impoverished and of course distorted. When you write or speak, the experience disintegrates, its inevitable.
We need a new language.
0 1960-06-Undated, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Isnt this reason enough to be discouraged? In any case, these questions are stirring in meand the vital is not happy [nor the mental, nor the physical].
Excuse me if I speak too frankly.
0 1960-07-12 - Mothers Vision - the Voice, the ashram a tiny part of myself, the Mothers Force, sparkling white light compressed - enormous formation of negative vibrations - light in evil, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Its form was elongated, slanting downwards (it always has this form). At the top it looked like a head, then the lines disappeared down below. It had no openings. And then, it was surrounded by various dark sheaths, a very dark purple which is the color of protection. A sparkling light was entering into itit kept entering, but without making any holes. It passed right through everything, through the purplethrough everything. It passed through and entered inside, where there were sparklings of every color, like a cascade. There are always these cascades of forcesimilar to a cascading stream whose waters neither flow on nor disappear, but accumulate: an accumulation of energies, a condensation. And they accumulate without taking up any more space through a kind of compression. And inside, its moving, vibrating, vibrating, vibrating, it keeps coming and comingyou dont know where it comes from, but it keeps coming and accumulating.
It was a force with a sparkling white light at its center, the light which is the force of the Divine Mother, and as soon as it was well packed and concentrated inside, or condensed, it took on all the colorsvibrations of every color Like a materialization these colors were like a materialization of the Divine Force when it enters matter. (Just as matter is a condensation of energy, well, this seemed to be a condensation of Divine Force. Thats really the impression it gave.)
It reminded me of tantric things. I have seen tantric formations and how forces are systematically separated by themeach vibration, each color. Its very interesting. They are all one, and yet each is distinct. That is, they are separated in order to be distinguished and for each one to be used individually. Each one represents a particular action for obtaining something in particular. This is the special knowledge the tantrics have, I believe. Or its the reflection of their knowledge. And my impression is that when they do their pujas or say their mantras, what they are trying to do is recombine all that into the white light. Im not sure. I know they use each one separately for a separate purpose, but when they speak of their puja succeeding, it may mean that they have been able to recombine the light. But I say this very guardedly. For I would have to see X do his puja one day to really knowfrom afar Im not so sure. Its merely an impression.
This is what I am constantly seeing now, but along with this Divine Force or this Divine Consciousness that Sri Aurobindo speaks of when he says, Mothers Force is with you. When it comes, it is sparkling white, perfectly white and perfectly luminous. And as it accumulates inside, it makes living vibrations of every color. And it goes on and on and on. Sometimes it lasts half an hour, three-quarters of an hour, an hournothing goes out. And it keeps constantly entering. And it piles up. Its as if it is all being accumulated or compressed together.
--
If no vibrations ever disappear, then what happens with all these horrible things coming from every corner of the world? Dont they pile up? Dont the bad vibrations take on a more and more enormous volume in the end?
They are transformed. And at times they are transformed almost immediately.
--
Our consciousness shrinks from these things which belong to the past and which are no longer in their place, so we feel disgust and revulsionbecause we are ignorant. But if we can raise ourselves above and be in contact with That the supreme Lightwhich is ALWAYS just behind, then this Light seems all the more supreme because it is so much its own opposite.
Then you know.
0 1960-07-23 - The Flood and the race - turning back to guide and save amongst the torrents - sadhana vs tamas and destruction - power of giving and offering - Japa, 7 lakhs, 140000 per day, 1 crore takes 20 years, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Down below, the water was having a grand time; it was it was hopeless. But here, along this path, there was still a hope, even even after the water had passed; I probably had a certain power at my disposal to help others cross these fissured places. But because I woke up, I didnt see what it was. So that stopped everything. Probably because I woke up rather abruptly, I could not see what it meant.
All this is a translation in human language, actually, because really it was
--
Ah, that, weve already had some. From all around, people are proclaiming that in 1962, there will be some people have even foreseen the end of the earth, but thats foolish! For the earth was built with a certain purpose, and before things are done, it will not disappear.
But there may be some changes.
--
The disciple was doing about five hours of japa a day at this time, then later seven hoursuntil it cracked.
One crore = 10,000,000.
0 1960-07-26 - Mothers vision - looking up words in the subconscient, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Coming at the end of the night as it did, it means that its an exploration in some part or another of a subconscious mental activity. And you can make so many discoveries there it is unbelievable! But its lovely. And rarely unpleasant. There was a time when it was very unpleasant, oppressive, full of effort and resistance. I would want to go somewhere, but it would be impossible; I toiled and struggled, but everything would go wrong the straight paths would suddenly plunge into an abyss, and Id have to cross the abyss. For years it was like that. Just recently, I looked back over this whole period But now it is over. Now its something its lovely, its enjoyable, its a little it has a childlike simplicity.
However, its not a personal subconscient, but a its more than the Ashram. For me, the Ashram is not a separate individualityexcept in that vision the other day,1 which is what surprised me. Its hardly that. Rather, it is still this Movement of everything, of everything that is included. So its like entering into the subconscient of the whole earth, and it takes on forms which are quite familiar images to me, but they are absolutely symbolic and very, very funny! It took a moment to see that vainquons is spelled q-u-o-n-s. And I wasnt sure! I meant to ask Pavitra for a dictionary which gives verb conjugations, for then if Im stuck on something while writing, I can look it up.
0 1960-08-10 - questions from center of Education - reading Sri Aurobindo, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And finally, Sweet Mother, what I would really like to know is the purpose of our Center of Education. Is it to teach the works of Sri Aurobindo? And only these? All the works or some only? Or is it to prepare the students to read the works of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother? Is it to prepare them for the Ashram life or for outside occupations as well? So many opinions are floating in the air, and even the old disciples from whom we expect some knowledge make so many contradictory statements
(Laughing, to Pavitra:) I suppose thats for you!
--
I SEE this state of mind, this mental attitude Oh! Its its so repugnant. People are so afraid of taking sides, so afraid of appearing biased; they are so afraid of appearing to have faith, so afraid Oh, its disgraceful.
And I will keep hammering that into your heads till I enter right into them.
0 1960-08-20, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Getting up to leave, Mother holds in her hands the first copy of LOrpailleur which the disciple has just received from France and offered to Her)
Shall I take your book or ? Dont you want it?
--
(Just at the doorstep, as She is leaving, Mother tells the disciple that She had seen three books, a trilogy, and the third one would be about Her. And She adds:)
Sri Aurobindo came during my japa to tell me, I will help him all through.
--
This note has disappeared.
Original English.
0 1960-08-27, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
On top of that, there are all the people who want to see me. Now everyone wants to see me! And since they are happy after coming once, they ask to come again! If I were very disagreeable and told them (Mother laughs) but that cant be done.
We should not allow all this to upset us. There is but one thing to doremain in a state of constant peace, constant equanimity, for things are not they are not very pleasant. Oh, if you only knew all the letters they write me if you knew, first of all, the tremendous pile of stupidities that need never be written at all; then, added to that, such a display of ignorance, egoism, bad will, total incomprehension and unequalled ingratitude, and all this so candid, my child! They heap all this on me daily, you know, and it comes from the most unexpected quarters.
If this were to affect me (Mother laughs), I would long ago have been who knows where. I dont care at all, not at all, really not at allit doesnt bother me, it makes me smile.
0 1960-09-02, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
In conclusion, he said, Where is the Mother and where is X? meaning, I suppose, that all separation had disappeared.
With love.
0 1960-09-20, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Sri Aurobindo and I had discussed the matter in 1914 (quite a long time ago), for we had seen two possibilities: what we are now doing, or to withdraw into solitude and isolation until we had not only attained the Supermind, but begun the material transformation as well. And Sri Aurobindo rightfully said that we could not isolate ourselves, for as you progress, you become more and more universalized, and consequently you take the burden upon yourself2 in any case.
And life itself has responded by bringing people forward to form a nucleus. Of course, we clearly saw that this would make the work a bit more complex and difficult (it gives me a heavy responsibility, an enormous material work), but from the overall point of view for the Workits in dispensable and even inevitable. And in any case, as we were later able to verify, each one represents simultaneously a possibility and a special difficulty to resolve. I have even said, I believe, that each one here is an impossibility.3
But this way of seeing is too far removed from the state of mind and spiritual education in which X has lived,4 of course, for him to understand. Nor am I in favor of proselytizing (to convince X); it would disturb him quite needlessly. He has not come here for that. He came here for something special, something I wanted which he brought, and I have learnt it. Now its excellent, he is a part of the group in his own fashion, thats all. And in a certain way, his presence here is having a very good effect on a whole category of people who had not been touched but who are now becoming more and more favorably inclined. It was difficult to reach all the traditionalists, for example, the people attached to the old spiritual forms; well, they seem now to have been touched by something.
When Amrita,5 seized with zeal, wanted to make him understand what we were doing here and what Sri Aurobindo had wanted, it almost erupted into an unpleasant situation. So after that, I decided to identify myself with him to see I had never done this, because normally I only do it when I am responsible for someone, in order to truly help someone, and Ive never felt any responsibility in regard to X. So I wanted to see his inner situation, what could and could not be done. That was the day you saw him coming down from our meditation in an ecstatic state, when he told you that all separation between him and me had dropped awayit was to be expected, I anticipated as much!
--
Actually, it was very different at that time because I was not even aware of any resistance or any difficulty in the outer being; it was automatic, the work was done automatically. Later on, when I had to do both thingswhat he had been doing as well as what I was doingit became rather complicated and I realized there were many what we could call gapsthings which had to be worked out, transformed, set right before the total work could be done without hindrance. So then I began. And several times I thought how unfortunate it was that I had never studied or pursued certain ancient Indian disciplines. Because, for example, when Sri Aurobindo and I were working to bring down the supramental forces, a descent from the mental plane to the vital plane, he was always telling me that everything I did (when we meditated together, when we worked)all my movements, all my gestures, all my postures, all my reactionswas absolutely tantric, as if I had pursued a tantric discipline. But it was spontaneous, it did not correspond to any knowledge, any idea, any will, nothing, and I thought it was like that simply because, as He knew, naturally I followed.
Later on, when Sri Aurobindo left his body, I said to myself, If only I knew what he had known, it would be easier! So when Swami and later X came, I thought, I am going to take advantage of this opportunity. I had written to Swami that I was working on transforming the cells of the body and that I had noticed the work was going faster with Xs influence. So it was understood that X would help when he came thats how things began, and this idea has remained with X. But I have raced on I dont wait. Ive raced on, Ive gone like wildfire. And now the situation is reversed. What I wanted to find out, I found out. I experienced what I wanted to experience, but he is still He is very kind, actually, he wants really to help me. So, when I identified with him the other day during our meditation, I realized that he wanted to give silence, control and perfect peace to the physical mind. My own trick, if you will, is to have as little relationship with the physical mind as possible, to go up above and stay therethis (Mother indicates her forehead), silent, motionless, turned upwards, while That (gesture above the head) sees, acts, knows, decidesall is done from there. Only there can you feel at ease.
--
But this experience with X was really interesting. I learned many things that day, many things If you concentrate long enough on any one point, you discover the Infinite (and in his own experience he found the infinite), what could be called your own Infinite. But this is not what WE want, not this; what we want is the direct and integral contact between the manifested universe and the Infinite out of which this universe has emerged. So then it is no longer an individual or personal contact with the Infinite, its a total contact. And Sri Aurobindo insists on this, he says that its absolutely impossible to have the transformation (not the contact, but the supramental transformation) without becoming universalized that is the first condition. You cannot become supramental before being universal. And to be universal means to accept everything, be everything, become everythingreally to accept everything. And as for all those who are shut up in a system, even if it belongs to the highest regions of thought, it is not THAT.
But to each his destiny, to each his work, to each his realization, and to want to change someones destiny or someones realization is very wrong. For it simply throws him off balance thats all it does.
--
It gives discipline. Its an almost subconscious discipline of the character more than of thought.
Especially at the beginning, Sri Aurobindo used to shatter to pieces all moral ideas (you know, as in the Aphorisms, for example). He shattered all those things, he shattered them, really shattered them to pieces. So theres a whole group of youngsters7 here who were brought up with this idea that we can do whatever we want, it doesnt matter in the least!that they need not bother about all those concepts of ordinary morality. Ive had a hard time making them understand that this morality can be abandoned only for a higher one So, one has to be careful not to give them the Power too soon.
Its an almost physical discipline. Moreover, I have seen that the japa has an organizing effect on the subconscient, on the inconscient, on matter, on the bodys cellsit takes time, but by persistently repeating it, in the long run it has an effect. It is the same principle as doing daily exercises on the piano, for example. You keep mechanically repeating them, and in the end your hands are filled with consciousness it fills the body with consciousness.
I have a hard time making X understand that I have work to do when Im with him. He doesnt understand that one can work.
Of course not! A disciplined work, which to us seems important, is to him basically an ignorance. What is true to such a person is a contemplative, ecstatic lifealong with a sentiment of compassion and charity, so that nonetheless you spend a bit of your time helping out the poor brutes! But the true thing is ecstatic contemplation. As for those who are advanced and yet still attach some importance to workits irrational!
The only way I can make him understand that I have work to do is to tell him, Mother asked me to do it; then he keeps quiet.
--
Afterwards, I kept very still so as not to disturb it. I didnt speak, above all I refrained from thinking and held it, held it tight against me I said to myself, make it last, make it last, make it last
Later on, I heard Sri Aurobindo saying that there were two people here to whom he had done this and as soon as there was silence, they panicked: My God, Ive gone stupid!! And they threw it all overboard by starting to think again.
--
From the material point of view, its almost hellish the noise, the smella nauseating smell. I had to apply all my will not to be physically disturbed they made me climb up narrow little stairs, go down, climb back up, look into deep pits. At some places there werent even guardrails, so I had really to control myself.
I was watching all this sugar canepiles of sugar canewhich is thrown into the machine, and then it travels along and falls down to be crushed, crushed, and crushed some more. And then it comes back up to be distilled. And then I saw all this is living when its thrown in, you see, its full of its vital force, for it has just been cut. As a result, the vital force is suddenly hurled out of the substance with an extreme violence the vital force comes out the English word angry is quite expressive of what I meanlike a snarling dog. An angry force.10
So I saw this I saw it moving about. And it kept coming and coming and coming, accumulating, piling up (they work 24 hours a day, six days a weekonly on the seventh do they rest). So I thought that this angry force must have some effect on the peoplewho knows, maybe this is what creates accidents. For I could see that once the sugar cane was fully crushed and had gone back up the chute, this force that had been beaten out was right there. And this worried me a little; I thought that there must be a certain danger in doing such a thing! What saves them is their ignorance and their insensitivity. But Indians are never entirely insensitive in the way Westerners arethey are much more open in their subconscious.
--
New Horizon Sugar Mills, which belongs to a disciple. The inauguration was on September 15.
Original English.
The disciple who manages the sugar factory.
***
0 1960-10-11, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And its true, those things I saw this morning which seemed so above all stupid and ugly (Ive never had a sense of morality at any time in my life, thank God! But stupid and ugly things have always seemed Ive always done my best to distance myself from them, even when I was very small). And now I see that these things which seem not only ridiculous but, well, almost shameful were considered, as I recall, remarkably noble earlier on and they represented an exceptionally lofty attitude in life the very same things. So then I understood that its quite simply a question of proportion.
And thats how the world isthings which now seem totally unacceptable to us, things we CANNOT tolerate, were quite all right in the past.
0 1960-10-15, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Each thing carries within itself its own truthits absolute truth, so luminous and so clear. And if you are in contact with THAT, then everything falls into place so wonderfully; but men are NOT in contact with that, they are always in contact through their thought: what they think of something, what they feel about something, the meaning they attach to it (or sometimes its worse)but the highest they go is always the thought they have of it. Thats what creates all this mixture and all this disorderthings in themselves are very good, and then they get confused.
Z's work involved seeing Mother everyday to watch over her health and her food.
0 1960-10-22, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
But I wasnt speaking to you with words Everything I see at night has a special color and a special vibration. Its strange, but it looks sketched When I said that to you, for example, there was a kind of patch,1 a white patch, as I recallwhite, exactly like a piece of white papera patch with a pink border around it, then this same blue light I keep telling you aboutdeep blueencircling the rest, as it were. And beyond that, it was swarminga swarming of black and dark gray vibrations in a terrible agitation. When I saw this, I said to you, You must repeat your mantra once in my presence so that I may see if there is anything I can do about this swarming. And then I dont know whyyou objected, and this objection was red, like a tongue of fire lashing out from the white, like this (Mother draws an arabesque). So I said, No, dont worry, it doesnt matter, I wont disturb a thing2! (Mother laughs mischievously)
All this took place in a realm which is constantly active, everywhere; it is like a permanent mental transcription of everything that physically takes place They arent actually thoughts; when I see this, I dont really get the impression of thinking, but its a transcription its the result of thoughts on a certain mental atmosphere which records things.
--
The experience I havewhat I mean by I is this aggregate here (Mother indicates her body), this particular individualityis that the more quiet and calm it is, the more work it can do and the faster the work can be done. What is most disturbing and time consuming are all these agitated vibrations that fall on me (truly speaking, each person who comes throws them on me). And this is what makes the work difficultit stirs up a whirlwind. And you cant do anything in this whirlwind, its impossible. If you try to do something material, your fingers stumble; if you try to do something intellectual, your thoughts get all entangled and you no longer see clearly. Ive had the experience, for example, of wanting to look up a word in the dictionary while this agitation was in the atmosphere, and everything jumps up and down (yet the lighting is the same and Im using the same magnifying glass), I no longer see a thing, its all jumping! I go page by page, but the word simply doesnt exist in the dictionary! Then I remain quiet, I do this (Mother makes a gesture of bringing down the Peace) and after half a minute I open the dictionary: the very spot, and the word leaps out at me! And I see clearly and distinctly. Consequently I have now the in disputable proof that if you want to do anything properly, you must FIRST be calm but not only be calm yourself; you must either isolate yourself or be capable of imposing a calm on this whirlwind of forces that comes upon you all the time from all around.
All the teachers are wanting to quit the schoolweary! Which means theyll begin the year with half the teachers gone. They live in constant tension, they dont know how to relax thats really what it is. They dont know how to act without agitation.
--
I didnt notice you being bothered by these things of the physical mind you had mentioned. However, I had first done this (gesture of cleansing the atmosphere), right at the beginning, so that nothing would come to disturb us Did you feel anything?
I felt that you were there. I felt your Force.
--
If you want to prevent these disturbances in your physical mind, then when you sit for japa You know my Force, dont you? Well then, wrap it around you, like this, twelve times, from top to bottom.
Original English.
0 1960-10-25, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
S has a nephew in Bombay, and one day towards the end of August or beginning September, he told me an extraordinary story about this nephew, who had disappeared (he showed me his photographhe looks rather like a medium). He returned home two days later, I believe. Hed been found in a train in a hypnotic state; fortunately someone shook him and he suddenly woke up: Why am I here? What am I doing here? (He had no intention of travelling, you see; he had simply left his house to visit a neighbor in Bombay.) So he returned home without knowing what had happened to him. And he was quite bizarre, really rather off.
A few days later, this nephew had to go somewhere, I dont know where; he went down to the railway station and didnt return. Impossible to find out what had happened to him, he was nowhere to be found. Several days had passed when the family decided to send me his photograph and to tell me the story, adding that it was surely a sequel to the previous occurrence (there must be some people doing hypnotism), and then they asked me where he was and what had become of him.
--
About two weeks later (in other words, ten days or so before September 26), some more news the boys older brother, who lives in Ahmedabad (not Bombay), came to visit his mother, father and grandmo ther (theres also a grandmo ther), and he asked about his brother. He had come with a friend. Your brother has disappeared, they explained, we dont know what has happened to him. So the two of them decided to search for him: Well find him .
The day before their departure, the elder brothers friend said he was going to visit the grandmo ther (she lives some hundred yards away). He went outand didnt return. disappeared.
So of course they were terribly worried; they wondered what had happened. I had someone write to X, I concentrated, and four days later the boy (the brothers friend, that is) returned in a lamentable state: white, emaciated, barely able to speak. Then he recounted his story:
--
But I was mainly interested by the fact that I felt the danger these people representednot because they were brigands, but because they had some powerbrigands with a power and from what I saw, it was not merely an hypnotic power. There must have been a tantric force in it, otherwise they would not have been so powerful, and especially so powerful from a distance. I had said to myself, They MUST be caught. Which was why (the Force kept on working, you see). And yesterday, the newspaper said that a gang of five men, eight women and half a dozen children had been arrested by the police in Allahabad for using what the newspaper called mesmeric means to rob people, attack them, etc. (They were operating in Poona, Bombay and Ahmedabad, but they were caught in Allahabad). Probably when they realized that the boy was gone, they got frightened and fled to the North. And they were arrested in Allahabad I had made a very strong formation and had said, They MUST be caught.
As of now, I have no other news Theyve been caught, so they cant do any wrong OUTWARDLY, but still their power is there. Were going to have to be And everyone here says the same thinglike a black veil of unconsciousness that has fallen upon us. Even those who arent accustomed to such things have felt it. Im presently cleaning the whole placeits not easy. Everything is upside down.
--
I dont know whats going to happen to them They must have killed quite a few people. If thats discovered, theyll get what they deserve and well be rid of themtheyll become little disembodied demons! Its less dangerous.
Unless they reincarnate somewhere else. Some people are always ready to accept demons, thats the trouble!
--
I also saw him that night. You fools with your small crackers, he said, I will show you what real crackers are!6and those flashes of lightning, such an astonishing violence Oh, he proclaimed all kinds of things, disasters, what not But these are very complex matters and its better not to go into detail.
(Some days later, Mother added the following:)
--
What about you, is your health better? (the disciple had not been well)
When you have to slip in seven hours of japa a day, it makes your life a bit strange!
--
Even tiny, the tiniest mental or vital reactionsso tiny that to our ordinary consciousness they dont appear to have the LEAST importanceact upon the bodys cells and can create disorders You see, when you observe carefully, you suddenly become aware of a very slight uneasiness, a mere nothing (when youre busy, you dont even notice it), and then if you follow this uneasiness to see what it is, you perceive that it comes from something quite imperceptible and insignificant to our active consciousness but its enough to create an uneasy feeling in the body.
Which is whyunless you are intentionally and constantly in what here is called the Brahmic consciousness it is practically impossible to control. And this is what gives the impression of certain things happening in the body independently of not only of our will but of our consciousness BUT IT IS NOT TRUE.
Only, there is all that comes from outside thats what is most dangerous. Constantly, constantlywhen you eat, you catch it oh, what a mass of vibrations! The vibrations of the thing you eat when it was living (they always remain), the vibrations of the person who cooked it, vibrations of All the time, all the time, they never stopyou breathe, they enter. Of course, when you start talking to someone or mixing with people, then you become a bit more conscious of what is coming, but even just sitting still, uninvolved with othersit comes! There is an almost total interdependenceisolation is an illusion. By reinforcing your own atmosphere (Mother gestures, as if building a wall around her), you can hold these things off TO A CERTAIN EXTENT, but simply this effort to keep them at a distance creates (Im thinking in English and speaking in French) disturbances.8 Anyway, now all this has been SEEN.
But I know in an absolute way that once this whole mass of the physical mind is mastered and the Brahmic consciousness is brought into it in a continuous way, you CAN you become the MASTER of your health.
--
Its a discipline, a tremendous tapasya.9
But its good to know in order to avoid this feeling of being crushed when things are still completely outside your control, this sense of fatality people havetheyre born, they live, they die: Nature is crushing and we are the playthings of something much bigger, much stronger than us that is the Falsehood.
--
When I say to someone, I shall take care of you, do you know what I do? I join his body to mine. And then all the work is done in me (as far as possibleessentially its possible, but there is a relativity because of time; but as far as possible ). So I find it very interesting to make cross-references and find out the results of my interventionnot so I can boast (theres nothing much to boast about), but for the sake of the SCIENTIFIC study of the problem: to know how to proceed, how to discriminate, what is active and what isnt, what are the guide lines, etc.
And even if at the moment you dont feel very good, you are able to say, It doesnt matter; what we have to do, well do (this fear of not being able to do what has to be done is the most irksome), if at that moment you can sincerely say to yourself, No, I trust in the Divine Grace no, I will do what I have to do, and Ill be given the power to do it, or the power to do it will be created in me then that is the true attitude.
--
The disciple's tantric guru.
In occult language, a 'formation' is a concentration of power towards a specific end. In this case, the tantric guru's formation to save the nephew.
--
Tapasya: asceticism, austerities, severe discipline.
Asuras: demons of the mental plane.
0 1960-10-30, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(After a meditation with Mother on the occasion of the disciple's birthday. At the outset of the conversation, Mother had given the disciple a small leather wallet with an Egyptian fresco depicted on it.)
Let me see the wallet (Mother looks at it) Ah, so that has nothing to do with it!
--
But I found this interesting, so I began looking, and I LIVED the scene, all kinds of scenes of initiation, worship, etc., for quite some time. When that lifted, a light much stronger than the last time (during the last meditation) came down, in a wonderful silence. (I might add that the first thing I did, at the beginning, was to try to establish a silence around you, to insulate you from other things so as to keep your mind quiet; it kept jumping a little, but once this light came down ) And it came down with a very hieratic quality and (how can I put this?) Egyptian in charactervery occult, very occult, very, very distinct, very specific, like this (gesture indicating a block of silence descending).
And then there came a long moment of absolutely motionless contemplation with something that now escapes meit may come back.
Then suddenly I went into a little trance. And in it I saw you, but you were physically, you were on one plane, and then I saw another man on a different plane (I saw him quite concretely; he was rather tall, broad-shoulderednot so tall as broad, with a dark, European suit). And he took your hands and started shaking them enthusiastically!but you were quite indifferent, just as you are now, dressed in Indian fashion and sitting cross-legged. He took both your hands and started shaking them! And then I distinctly heard the words: Congratulations, its a great success!it had to do with your book.3 And at the same time, I saw all sorts of people and things who were touched by your bookall kinds of people, obviously French, or Westerners in any case women, men. There was even one woman (she must have been an actress or a singer or anyway, someone whose life was she was even dressed for the stage, with some kind of tightsa beautiful girl!) and she said to someone, Ah, it has even given me a taste for the spiritual life! It was extremely interesting All kinds of things of this nature. And then once again I came out of this trance and In the end, I tried to do some certain thing for you and it turned out well. It turned out quite well.
But then, just before that, there was this powdering of golden light coming down. And as it descended, it was white with a touch of gold (but it was white) and it came down in a column, with such POWER! And then, just at the end, this powdering of gold came and settled into this white light which had remained there the whole timeoh, it was so abundant. A great power of realization. I had a hard time coming out of it! At the start, I had decided to come out of it at half past, so I came out, but still not completely
--
The physical vibration is important. The circumstances relating to the work of transformation make the physical vibration important. I feel it, for as soon as I want to do something with someone on the physical plane (physical, mind you), it all comes into the body. And the body is simply seized I see that absolutely physical vibrations are being used all the time. Its really so different. All the work which is done at a distance (gesture indicating action stemming from the mind)it acts, of course, but
You know, even now, all this (Mother touches her body, her hands) feels so vibrant and alive that its difficult to sense its limits as if it extends beyond the body in all directions. It no longer has any limits.
--
My impression is that in a while, maybe not in such a distant future, well be able to do something, a sort of it will no longer be personal. We should be able to establish something.4
***
--
(Mother gives the disciple a carnation, named by her Collaboration)
So, I wont see you again? No, too many people come in the afternoon, its not pleasant
--
According to tradition, Anubis, the jackal-headed god, helped Isis to rebuild the body of her spouse, Osiris, who had been killed and dismembered by his brother Set. Osiris was the first god to rule over men. Owing to certain special rites, Isis, helped by Anubis, succeeded in bringing him back to life. So we are not very far from the legend of Savitri and Satyavan.
L'Orpailleur, which had just been published. The man's description, as a matter of fact, bears a striking resemblance to the publisher.
0 1960-11-05, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
People often try to forget the past, but it doesnt work. Only once it has brought all the lessons that it was meant to bring into your life (its decanted, so you see the thing in its deepest truth), is its utility finished, and it disappears.
I am convinced that at heart Karma is simply all the things we havent used in the true way that we drag along behind us If totally and clearly we have learned the lesson which each event or each circumstance ought to have brought, then its finished, its utility is gone and it dissolves.
Its an interesting experience to follow and observe.
0 1960-11-08, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(After a conversation with Z, a distant ' disciple' reputed for his loose morals and the object of numerous 'moralistic' or even so-called 'yogic' criticisms among the 'true disciples' in the Ashram)
He lives in a region which is largely a kind of vital vibration which penetrates the mind and makes use of the imagination (essentially its the same region most so-called cultured men live in). I dont mean to be severe or critical, but its a world that likes to play to itself. Its not really what we could call histrionics, not thatits rather a need to dramatize to oneself. So it can be an heroic drama, it can be a musical drama, it can be a tragic drama, or quite simply a poetic drama and ninety-nine times out of a hundred, its a romantic drama. And then, these soul states (!) come replete with certain spoken expressions (laughing) Im holding myself back from saying certain things!You know, its like a theatricals store where you rent scenery and costumes. Its all ready and waitinga little call, and there it comes, ready-made. For a particular occasion, they say, Youre the woman of my life (to be repeated as often as necessary), and for another they say Its a whole world, a whole mode of human life which I suddenly felt I was holding in my arms. Yes, like a decoration, an ornament, a nicetyan ornament of existence, to keep it from being flat and dull and the best means the human mind has found to get out of its tamas. Its a kind of artifice.
So for persons who are severe and grave (there are two such examples here, but its not necessary to name them) There are beings who are grave, so serious, so sincere, who find it hypocritical; and when it borders on certain (how shall I put it?) vital excesses, they call it vice. There are others who have lived their entire lives in a yogic or religious discipline, and they see this as an obstacle, illusion, dirtyness (Mother makes a gesture of rejecting with disgust), but above all, its this terrible illusion that prevents you from nearing the Divine. And when I saw the way these two people here reacted, in fact, I said to myself, but you see, I FELT So strongly that this too is the Divine, it too is a way of getting out of something that has had its place in evolution, and still has a place, individually, for certain individuals. Naturally, if you remain there, you keep turning in circles; it will always be (not eternally, but indefinitely) the woman of my life, to take that as a symbol. But once youre out of it, you see that this had its place, its utilityit made you emerge from a kind of very animal-like wisdom and quietude that of the herd or of the being who sees no further than his daily round. It was necessary. We mustnt condemn it, we mustnt use harsh words.
The mistake we make is to remain there too long, for if you spend your whole life in that, well, youll probably need many more lifetimes. But once the chance to get out of it comes, you can look at it with a smile and say, Yes, its really a sort of love for fiction!people love fiction, they want fiction, they need fiction! Otherwise its boring and all much too flat.
--
Its an approach which is not at all mental nor intellectual nor (God knows!) moral in the leastno notion of Good or Evil nor any of those things, absolutely none of that. Theres a moment in life when you begin thinking a little and you see all this from an overall or universal point of view in which all moral notions completely disappearFOR ANOTHER REASON. This experience with Z reminded me of a certain way of approaching Beauty that enables you even to find it in what appears dirty and ugly to the common vision. It is She trying to express herself in this something which to the common vision is ugly, dirty, hypocritical. But of course, if you yourself have striven assiduously and have greatly held yourself in, then you look at it reprovingly.
From my earliest childhood, instinctively, I have never felt the slightest contempt or how should I say (well, well! I was thinking in English) shrinking or disapproval, severe criticism or disgust for the things people call vice.
(silence)
I have experienced all kinds of things in life, but I have always felt a sort of lightso INTANGIBLE, So perfectly pure (not in the moral sense, but pure light!)and it could go anywhere, mix everywhere without ever really getting mixed with anything. I felt this flame as a young childa white flame. And NEVER have I felt disgust, contempt, recoil, the sense of being dirtiedby anything or anyone. There was always this flamewhite, white, so white that nothing could make it other than white. And I started feeling it long ago in the past (now my approach is entirely differentit comes straight from above, and I have other reasons for seeing the Purity in everything). But it came back when I met Z (because of the contact with him)and I felt nothing negative, absolutely nothing. Afterwards, people said, Oh, how he used to be this, how he used to be that! And now look at him! See what hes become! Someone even used the word rotten that made me smile. Because, you see, that doesnt exist for me.
What I saw is this world, this realm where people are like that, they live that, for its necessary to get out from below and this is a wayits a way, the only way. It was the only way for the vital formation and the vital creation to enter into the material world, into inert matter. An intellectualized vital, a vital of ideas, an artist; it even fringes upon or has the first drops of Poetrythis Poetry which upon its peaks goes beyond the mind and becomes an expression of the Spirit. Well, when these first drops fall on earth, it stirs up mud.
--
But since Zs visit yesterday, and this morning on the balcony Oh, its so I had already seen this long agothis whole milieu that is not very pretty and I had said, Well, its all right, thats how it is, and I didnt discuss it further: Thats how it is, and absolutely the whole world belongs to the Lord IS the Lord! And the Lord made it so, and the Lord wants it so, and its quite all right. Then I put it aside. But with his visit yesterday, it found its placesuch a smiling place. And theres a whole world of things of life which have found their true place in this waywith a smile!
(silence)
--
The most senior disciple in the Ashram.
***
0 1960-11-12, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Chittagong was hit by a cyclone, there were tidal waves somewhere else The cyclone went up the wrong side!for according to Xs predictions, it was Karachi that should have disappeared.
He said only in 1962 or 1963 would Karachi totally disappear. And three-fourths of Bombay underwater!
And just a while ago some volcanoes erupted, so the sea rose and swept away all kinds of things in Japan and all along its path, but it didnt come all the way to India. When I was in Japan, one island was swallowed up just like that, along with its 30,000 inhabitants, glub!
--
You asked me just now if we have a say in the matter. Well, last year I didnt go out; I had no intention of going to the Sportsground or to the theater for the December 2 program, but I was often asked to see that the weather be good. So while I was doing my japa upstairs, I started saying that it shouldnt rain. But they werent in a very good mood! (When I used to go out myself, it had an effect, for it kept the thing in check, and even if it had been raining earlier, that day it would stop.) So they said, But you arent going out, so what does it matter. I said I wascounting on it. Then they answered, Are you prepared to have it rain the next time you go out?Do what you like, I replied. And when I went out on November 24 for the prize distribution, there was a deluge. It came pouring down and we had to run for shelter in the gymnasiumeveryone was splashing around, the band playing on the verandah was half-drenched, it was dreadful!the day before it hadnt rained, the day after it didnt rain. But on that day they had their revenge!
I dont want that to happen this time. Once is enough. So Im going to see about it.
--
So Im trying to come to an understanding, to reach an agreement these are very complicated matters (!). For its a whole totality You see, we are trying something here which really is contrary to all those laws and practices, something which disturbs everything. So they propose things that have me advancing like this (sinuous motion), without disturbing things too much, and without having to call in forces (Mother makes a gesture of a lance thrust into the pack) forces a bit too great, which may disturb things too much. Like that, we can keep tacking back and forth.
A while ago You know that I have TREMENDOUS financial difficulties. In fact, I have handed the whole matter over to the Lord, telling Him, Its your affair; if you want us to continue this experience, well, you must provide the means. But this upsets some of them, so they come along with all kinds of suggestions to keep me from having to to resort to something so drastic. They suggest all kinds of things; some time ago they said, What about a good cyclone, or a good earthquake? A lot of damage to the Ashram, a public appeal that would bring in some funds! (Mother laughs) Yes, its of this order! And its all quite clear and definitewe have veritable conversations!
0 1960-11-15, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
So I understood that this must correspond to a certain realm of experience; I understood all those who say, If it has to be like this, if it can never be otherwise, then (this opposition, this abyss between a TRUE life, a TRUE consciousness, a TRUE activity, something living, powerful, fulfilling and life as it now is), if there must always be this difference between the physical expression as it is or as it can be in the present circumstances, and the true life, then For if despite everythingdespite this tremendous distance Ive covered in my life (these memories go back more than sixty years) and all the evolutionary effort upwards I have made since that time IN MATTER (Im not speaking of leaving Matter behind, but IN MATTER, IN action)if that doesnt further reduce this gap between the true consciousness and the possible material realization, then I understand I understand why people say, Its hopeless. (Of course, this hopeless is meaningless to me.)
But I (how can I put this?) I lived their experience, I lived it; and even events which seem quite extraordinary when seen from afar, which is the way they appear to most people, even historical things which have furthered the earths transformation and its upheavals the crucial events, the great works, you might sayare woven from the SAME fabric, they are the SAME thing! When you look at all this from afar, on the whole it can make an impression, but the life of each minute, of each hour, of each second is woven from this SAME fabric, drab, dull, insipid, WITHOUT ANY TRUE LIFEa mere reflection of life, an illusion of lifepowerless, void of any light or anything that resembles joy in the least. Oh! if it has always to remain like that, then we dont want any of it.
--
How well I understand all those who dont know or to whom it hasnt been shown or revealed that we are GOING towards something else, that it WILL BE something else! Such a feeling of futility, stupidity, uselessness, and absolutely devoid of any any intensity, any life, any reality, any ardor, any soulbah! Its disgusting.
While it was all coming up, I thought, How is this possible? For during those years of my life (Im now outside things; I do them but Im entirely outside, so they dont involve mewhether its like this or like that makes no difference to me; Im only doing my work, thats all), I was already conscious, but nevertheless I was IN what I was doing to a certain extent; I was this web of social life (but thank God it wasnt here in India, for had it been here I could not have withstood it! I think that even as a child I would have smashed everything, because here its even worse than over there). You see, there its its a bit less constricting, a bit looser, you can slip through the mesh from time to time to brea the some air. But here, according to what Ive learned from people and what Sri Aurobindo told me, its absolutely unbearable (its the same in Japan, absolutely unbearable). In other words, you cant help but smash everything. Over there, you sometimes get a breath of air, but still its quite relative. And this morning I wondered (you see, for years I lived in that way for years and years) just as I was wondering, How was I ABLE to live that and not kick out in every direction?, just as I was looking at it, I saw up above, above this (it is worse than horrible, it is a kind of Oh, not despair, for there isnt even any sense of feeling there is NOTHING! It is dull, dull, dull gray, gray, gray, clenched tight, a closed web that lets through neither air nor life nor lightthere is nothing) and just then I saw a splendor of such sweet light above itso sweet, so full of true love, true compassion something so warm, so warm the relief, the solace of an eternity of sweetness, light, beauty, in an eternity of patience which feels neither the past nor the inanity and imbecility of thingsit was so wonderful! That was entirely the feeling it gave, and I said to myself, THAT is what made you live, without THAT it would not have been possible. Oh, it would not have been possible I would not have lived even three days! THAT is there, ALWAYS there, awaiting its hour, if we would only let it in.
--
I had seen this earlier from another angle. In the beginning, when I started having the consciousness of immortality and when I brought together this true consciousness of immortality and the human conception of it (which is entirely different), I saw so clearly that when a human (even quite an ordinary human, one who is not a collectivity in himselfas is a writer, for example, or a philosopher or statesman) projects himself through his imagination into what he calls immortality (meaning an indefinite duration of time) he doesnt project himself alone but rather, inevitably and always, what is projected along with himself is a whole agglomeration, a collectivity or totality of things which represent the life and the consciousness of his present existence. And then I made the following experiment on a number of people; I said to them, Excuse me, but lets say that through a special discipline or a special grace your life were to continue indefinitely. What you would most likely extend into this indefinite future are the circumstances of your life, this formation you have built around yourself that is made up of people, relationships, activities, a whole collection of more or less living or inert things.
But that CANNOT be extended as it is, for everything is constantly changing! And to be immortal, you have to follow this perpetual change; otherwise, what will naturally happen is what now happensone day you will die because you can no longer follow the change. But if you can follow it, then all this will fall from you! Understand that what will survive in you is something you dont know very well, but its the only thing that can survive and all the rest will keep falling off all the time Do you still want to be immortal?Not one in ten said yes! Once you are able to make them feel the thing concretely, they tell you, Oh no! Oh no! Since everything else is changing, the body might as well change too! What difference would it make! But what remains is THAT; THAT is what you must truly hold on to but then you must BE THAT, not this whole agglomeration. What you now call you is not THAT, its a whole collection of things..
--
It was no longer this (that is, life as it is on earth) becoming conscious of That (the eternal soul, this portion of the Supreme as Sri Aurobindo said); it was the eternal soul seeing life in its own way but without separation, without any separation, not like something looking from above that feels itself to be different How strange it is! Its not something else, its NOT something else, its not even a distortion, not even Its losing its illusory quality as described in the old spiritualities thats not what it is! In my experience, there was there was clearly an emotion I cant describe it, there are no words. It wasnt a feeling, it was something like an emotion, a vibration of such TOTAL closeness and at the same time of compassion, a compassion of love. (Oh, words are so pitiful! ) One was this outer thing, which was the total negation of the other and AT THE SAME TIME the other, without the least separation between them. It WAS the other. So what was born in one was born in the other as well, in this eternal light. A sweetness of identity, precisely, an identity that was necessarily such total understanding with such perfect love but love says it poorly, all words are poor! Its not that; its something else! Its something that cannot be expressed.
I lived that this morning, upstairs.
--
Conversation of November 8, the 'artist' disciple with loose morals.
***
0 1960-11-26, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Not last night but the night before, I touched at least one of the causes (at that time it felt like THE cause) of a certain powerlessness to act directly on Matter You see, when the Will and the Power come, they are extremely effective everywhere UP TO A CERTAIN REGION (in other words, whether people are receptive or not, open or not, makes no differencewhen the Will is applied it is all-powerful UP TO a certain region) but once it arrives here, at the most material material, its efficacy depends on many thingsand a power which depends on something is no power! For a long, long time I have been searching for the reasons behind this powerlessness. Ive located a few, one after another, and upon these points there was an immediate effect. But some things resisted (oh, quite a number, in a number of ways), for example it had difficulty acting on illnesses, on the cells, on doubt (not mental doubt, but rather the doubt of the physical consciousness which cant accept certain things that seem impossible to itwhat Sri Aurobindo calls disbelief,1 not a mental doubt, but the disbelief of the physical consciousness which cant accept what is contrary to its own nature and its own working). And as for illnesses, sometimes it has an immediate effect, but sometimes it drags on and has to follow its so-called normal course. On all these three points, I clearly felt that something was hampering it. These are the Enemys strongholds; all that doesnt want the Divine seizes upon it and even the working of the Power coming from above is obstructed, for when it must work here in the body, it is stopped or deformed or altered or diminished.
All this goes on in the subconscient; these are things that were pushed out of the physical consciousness down into the subconscient, so theyre there and they come back up whenever they please.
--
I felt your intervention very clearly. I was really in a bad way, but when I came out of the japa, I knew it was cured. There is still something in the leg that pulls a little, but it has practically disappeared.
Its the memory, the memory in the cells.
--
Before I fell sick, I had a peculiar dream. I was here in the corridor, and someone quite dark came to tell me that Mother wanted me to change my work. And I recall trying with all my might to ask him, But why, why? Finally you arrived. You were there at a table with some others. I was quite annoyed because all these people upset me, they were hindering me from being with you. And you said to me very clearly, Its time this gentleman goes. perhaps this gentleman represented a part of my being which had to disappear or change, but anyway you asked me to do something extremely difficultl felt a very great difficulty doing it. I even remember, in my dream, having left you for an instant, as if I wanted to leave the Ashram, then I must have walked up and down for a while. Finally, I must have made an enormous effort to come back and sit next to you on a bench which symbolically was very hard The next morning I woke up with the flu.
So, its very simple. The sickness was due to one part of your being going faster than the rest. A part of the physical consciousness probably remained behind, and that created this imbalance and triggered the sickness.
--
That was the wonderful thing when we were together and all these hostile forces were fighting (they tried to kill me any number of times. He always saved me in an absolutely miraculous and marvelous way). But you see, this seemed to create very great BODILY difficulties for him. We discussed this a great deal, and I told him, If one of us must go, I want that it should be me.
It cant be you, he replied, because you alone can do the material thing.3
--
And then, at the same time, some rather interesting things are happening. Imagine, X is starting to understand certain things that is, in his own way he is discovering the progress I am making; hes discovering it as a received teaching (through subtle channels). He wrote a letter to Amrita two or three days ago in which he translates in his own language, with his own words and his own way of speaking, exactly my most recent experiencesthings that I have conquered in a general way.
This interests me, for these things do not at all enter through the mind (he doesnt receive a thing there, hes closed there). So in his letter he says that this thing or that is necessary (he describes it in his own words), and he adds, This is why we must be so grateful to have among us the the great Mother7 (as he puts it), the great Mother who knows these things.Good! I said to myself. (It had to do with something specific concerning the capacity for discrimination in the outside world, the different qualities and different functions of different beings, all of which depends on ones inner construction, as it were.) So I see that even this, even these physical experiences, is received (and yet I hadnt tried, I had never tried to make him receive it); it merely works like this, you see (gesture of a widespread diffusion), and the experience is veryhow should I say?drastic, with a kind of (power of radiation). Imperative.
Original English.
0 1960-12-13, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
Its what Sri Aurobindo calls disbelief, and its located in the most material physical consciousness it isnt doubt (which mainly belongs to the mind), it is almost like a refusal to accept the obvious as soon as it doesnt belong to the little daily routine of ordinary sensations and reactionsa sort of incapacity to accept and recognize the exceptional.
This disbelief is the bedrock of the consciousness. And it comes with a (thought is too big a word for such an ordinary thing) a mental-physical activity which makes you (I am forced to use the word) think things and which always foresees, imagines or draws conclusions (depending on the case) in a way which I myself call DEFEATIST. In other words, it automatically leads you to imagine all the bad things that can happen. And this occurs in a realm which is absolutely run-of-the-mill, in the most ordinary, restricted, banal activities of lifesuch as eating, moving in short, the coarsest of things.
Its fairly easy to manage and control this in the realm of thought, but when it comes to those reactions that rise up from the very bottom theyre so petty that you can barely express them to yourself. For example, if someone mentions that so-and-so ate such-and-such a thing, immediately something somewhere starts stealing in: Ah, hes going to get a stomach-ache! Or you hear that someone is going somewhereOh, hes going to have an accident! And it applies to everything; its swarming down below. Nothing to do with thought as such!
Its quite a nasty habit, for it keeps the most material state in a condition of disharmony, disorder, ugliness and difficulty.
I tried every possible way To get out of it is relatively easy. But then it doesnt change.
--
Mother may be alluding to the following passage from The Synthesis of Yoga: 'There is nothing to be done with this fickle, restless, violent and disturbing factor but to get rid of it whether by detaching it and then reducing it to stillness or by giving a concentration and singleness to the thought by which it will of itself reject this alien and confusing clement.'
Cent. Ed., Vol. XX, p. 300.
0 1960-12-17, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
(Mother gives the disciple a cadamba flower which she has named 'Supramental Sun'a striking orange ball consisting of innumerable stamens)
Its beautiful, isnt it? Its all together, but its innumerable. Its ONE thing going in all directions. And what a color! The tree is glorious.
--
Its what Sri Aurobindo always said: FIRST you must accept EVERYTHINGaccept it as coming from the Divine, as the Divine Will; accept without disgust, without regret, without getting upset or impatient. Accept with a perfect equanimity; and only AFTER that can you say, Now lets get to work to change it.
But to work to change it before having attained a perfect equanimity is impossible. Thats what I have learned during these last years.
And for every detail, its the same. First, May Thy Will be done; then, afterwards, The Will of tomorrow and then those things will disappear. But first, one must accept.
Thats why it takes so long. Because those who readily accept are they get encrusted and buried under it; they no longer move. And those who see the future and what must be have a hard time accepting; they pull back, they kick and protestso they dont have any power.
0 1960-12-20, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
And now, all these different attitudes which individuals, groups and categories of men hold are coming from every direction (while Im walking upstairs) to assert their own points of view as the true thing. And I see that for myself, Im being forced to deal with a whole mass of things, most of which are quite futile from an ordinary point of viewnot to mention the things of which these moral or religious types disapprove. Quite interestingly, all kinds of mental formations come like arrows while Im walking for my japa upstairs (Mother makes a gesture of little arrows in the air coming into her mental atmosphere from every direction); and yet, Im entirely in what I could call the joy and happiness of my japa, full of the energy of walking (the purpose of walking is to give a material energy to the experience, in all the bodys cells). Yet in spite of this, one thing after another comes, like this, like that (Mother draws little arrows in the air): what I must do, what I must answer to this person, what I must say to that one, what has to be done All kinds of things, most of which might be considered most futile! And I see that all this is SITUATED in a totality, and this totality I could say that its nothing but the body of the Divine. I FEEL it, actually, I feel it as if I were touching it everywhere (Mother touches her arms, her hands, her body). And all these things neither veil nor destroy nor divert this feeling of being entirely this a movement, an action in the body of the Divine. And its increasing from day to day, for it seems that He is plunging me more and more into entirely material things with the will that THERE TOO it must be done that all these things must be consciously full of Him; they are full of Him, in actual fact, but it must become conscious, with the perception that it is all the very substance of His being which is moving in everything
It was quite beautiful on the balcony this morning
0 1960-12-31, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Zen
On the 6th, everyone will finally be gone. But tomorrow is going to be dreadful; I have to sit there for at least two hours distributing calendars. And on top of that, there are all these controversies over the music they play at the library each week. Some say that its very good, others that its very bad (the usual things). And each party has pleaded his case. They told me that theyll give me a concert at Prosperity4 so that I may judge for myself. Its all recorded. Im afraid it will be rather noisy For myself, I know quite well how to get out of it I think of something else! But its going to I can see it already. Didnt I tell you were in a chaos? Well, I have the feeling that this is going to beat all.
How do you mean a chaos?
--
As I approached the house, but still from some distance, I suddenly saw some men busy at work. Then instantly instantly this road which was so vast, sunlit and smoothso smooth to the feet oh, it became the top level of a scaffolding. And what is more, this scaffolding was not very well made, and the closer I came the more complicated it gotthere were planks jutting out, beams off balance. In short, you had to watch every single step to keep from breaking your neck. I began getting annoyed. Moreover, my packages were heavy. They were heavy and they so saddled my arms that I was unable to hold onto anything and had constantly to do a balancing act. Then I began thinking, My God, how complicated this world is! And just at that moment, I saw a young person coming along, like a young girl dressed in European clothes, with a hat on her head all black! This young person had white skin, but her clothes were black, and she wore black shoes on her small white feet. She was dressed all in blackblack, all in black. Like complete unconsciousness. She also came carrying packages (many more than me), and she came hopping along the whole length of the scaffolding, putting her feet just anywhere! My God, I said to myself, shes going to break her neck!But not at all! She was totally unconscious; she wasnt even aware that it was dangerous or complicateda total unconsciousness. But her unconsciousness is what allowed her to go on like that! I watched it all. Well, sometimes its good to be unconscious! Then she disappeared; she had only come to give me a demonstration (she neither saw me nor looked at me). And looking down at the workers, I saw that everything was getting more and more complicated, more and more, more and more and there wasnt even any ladder by which to get down. In other words, it was getting unbearable. Then something in me rebelled: Ah, no! Ive had enough of all thisits too stupid!
And IMMEDIATELY, I found myself down below, relieved of my packages. And everything was perfectly simple. (I had even brought the packages along without realizing it.) All, all was in order, very neat, very luminous, very simplesimply because I had said, Ah, no! Ive had enough of this business! Why all these stupid complications!5
--
The room where Mother distributed to the disciples their needs (soap, paper, etc.) on the first of each month.
Mother later discovered that this world of complications is the symbol of the physical mind.
Mother later narrated the end of her 'dream' with X:
0 1961-01-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And I am how to put it? Nothing we say is ever absolutely true, but, to stretch it a bit, while I am not worried, not perturbed, not discouraged, I feel I cant get anything done; I spend all my time, all my time, seeing people, receiving and answering lettersdoing nothing. I havent touched my translation1 for over a week. T. sent me her notebook with questions and I had it for two weeks before I found time to answer.2 Nothing is ready for the Bulletin except what you have done.
Its a pity you have no time to do your work.
--
The notebook in which a young woman disciple asked questions on Sri Aurobindo's Thoughts and Aphorisms. Later, Mother preferred answering verbally Satprem's questions on the aphorisms. This allowed her to speak of her experiences freely without the restrictions imposed by a written reply. These 'Commentaries on the Aphorisms' were later partially published in the Bulletin under the title Propos. Here they are republished chronologically in their unabridged form.
Where Sri Aurobindo's body lies, in the Ashram courtyard.
0 1961-01-10, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The second step is to be POSITIVELY conscious of the supreme Goodness and Beauty behind all things and supporting all things, permitting them to exist. Once you have seen Him, you can perceive Him behind the mask and the distortioneven ugliness, even cruelty, even evil are a disguise for that Something which is essentially good or beautiful, luminous, pure.
With this comes TRUE collaboration. For when you have this vision, this awareness, when you live in this consciousness, you also get the power to PULL That into the manifestation on earth and put it into contact with what, for the time being, distorts and disguises; thus the deformation and disguise are gradually transformed by the influence of the Truth behind.
Here we are at the top rung on the scale of collaboration.
Put this way, there is no need to bring the principle of love into our explanation. But if we want to know or understand the nature of the Force or Power that permits and accomplishes this transformation (specially in the case of evil, but for ugliness to some extent as well), we see that of all powers, Love is obviously the mightiest, the most integralintegral in that it applies to all cases. Its even mightier than the power of purification which dissolves bad wills and is, in a way, master over the adverse forces, but which doesnt have the direct transforming power; because the power of purification Must FIRST dissolve in order to form again later. It destroys one form to make a better one from it, while Love doesnt need to dissolve in order to transform: it has the direct transforming power. Love is like a flame changing the hard into the malleable, then sublimating even the malleable into a kind of purified vapor. It doesnt destroy: it transforms.
Love, in its essence and in its origin, is like a white flame obliterating ALL resistances. You can have the experience yourself: whatever the difficulty in your being, whatever the weight of accumulated mistakes, the ignorance, incapacity, bad will, a single SECOND of this Lovepure, essential, suprememelts everything in its almighty flame. One single moment and an entire past can vanish. One single TOUCH of That in its essence and the whole burden is consumed.
--
(A little later, Mother made the following remark concerning the Agenda of December 13, 1960, where she speaks of the physical Minds. disbelief and defeatist reactions as intimately linked to the bodys illnesses.)
This defeatist Mind is still functioning and in full swing!
--
Twice a week, during the period of the Playground Talks, Mother would publicly reply to questions put to her by the disciples assembled at the Ashram Playground.
World Uniona 'movement' launched through the personal initiative of a disciple.
***
0 1961-01-12, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
When we enter a certain state of consciousness, we plainly see that we are capable of anything and that ultimately there is no sin not potentially our own. Is this impression correct? And yet certain things make us rebel or disgust us. We always reach some inadmissible point. Why? What is the true, effective attitude when confronted with Evil?
There is no sin not our own.
You have this experience when for some reason or other, depending on the case, you come into contact with the universal consciousness not in its limitless essence but on any level of Matter. There is an atomic consciousness, a purely material consciousness and an even more generally prevailing psychological consciousness. When, through interiorization or a sort of withdrawal from the ego you enter into contact with that zone of consciousness we can call psychological terrestrial or human collective (there is a difference: human collective is restricted, while terrestrial includes many animal and even plant vibrations; but in the present case, since the moral notion of guilt, sin and evil belongs exclusively to human consciousness, let us simply say human collective psychological consciousness); when you contact that through identification, you naturally feel or see or know yourself capable of any human movement whatsoever. To some extent, this constitutes a Truth-Consciousness, or at such times the egoistical sense of what does or doesnt belong to you, of what you can or cannot do, disappears; you realize that the fundamental construction of human consciousness makes any human being capable of doing anything. And since you are in a truth-consciousness, you are aware at the same time that to feel judgmental or disgusted or revolted would be an absurdity, for EVERYTHING is potentially there inside you. And should you happen to be penetrated by certain currents of force (which we usually cant follow: we see them come and go but we are generally unaware of their origin and direction), if any one of these currents penetrates you, it can make you do anything.
If one always remained in this state of consciousness, keeping alive the flame of Agni, the flame of purification and progress, then after some time, not only could one prevent these movements from taking an active form in oneself and becoming expressed physically, but one could act upon the very nature of the movement and transform it. Needless to say, however, that unless one has attained a very high degree of realization it is virtually impossible to keep this state of consciousness for long. Almost immediately one falls back into the egoistic consciousness of the separate self, and all the difficulties return: disgust, the revolt against certain things and the horror they create in us, and so on.
It is probableeven certain that until one is completely transformed these movements of disgust and revolt are necessary to make one do WITHIN ONESELF what is needed to slam the door on them. For after all, the point is to not let them manifest.
In another aphorism, Sri Aurobindo says (I no longer recall his exact words) that sin is simply something no longer in its place. In this perpetual Becoming nothing is ever reproduced and some things disappear, so to speak, into the past; and when its time for them to disappear, they seemto our very limited consciousness evil and repulsive: we revolt against them because their time is past.
But if we had the vision of the whole, if we were able to contain past, present and future simultaneously (as it is somewhere up above), then we would see how relative these things are and that its mainly the progressing evolutionary Force which gives us this will to reject; yet when these things still had their place, they were quite tolerable. However, to have this experience in a practical sense is impossible unless we have a total vision the vision that is the Supremes alone! Therefore, one must first identify with the Supreme, and then, keeping this identification, one can return to a consciousness sufficiently externalized to see things as they really are. But thats the principle, and in so far as we are able to realize it, we reach a state of consciousness where we can look at all things with the smile of a complete certainty that everything is exactly as it should be.
--
Ultimately, disgust, rebellion and anger, all movements of violence, are necessarily movements of ignorance and of limitation with all the weakness that limitation implies. Rebellion is a weakness, for its the feeling of an impotent will. When you feel, when you see that things are not as they should be, then you rebel against whatever is out of keeping with your vision. But if you were all-powerful, if your will and your vision were all-powerful, there would be no opportunity to rebel! You would always see that all things are as they should be! That is omnipotence.1 Then all these movements of violence become not only useless but profoundly ridiculous.
Consequently, there is only one solution: by aspiration, concentration, interiorization and identification, to unite with the supreme Will. And that is both omnipotence and perfect freedom. Its the only omnipotence, the only freedomall the rest are approximations. You may be en route, but its not That, not the total thing.
If you make the experiment, you will come to see that this supreme freedom and this supreme power are accompanied by a total peace and an unfaltering serenity; if you notice any contradictionrevolt, disgust or something inadmissiblethis indicates that some part in You is not touched by the transformation, is still en route: something still holding on to the old consciousness, thats all.
In this aphorism, Sri Aurobindo speaks of those who hate sinners that one mustnt hate sinners.
--
When asked later about the meaning of this somewhat elliptical statement, Mother said: 'There are two stages. The first involves a mental (and possibly intuitive) vision of what will be (perhaps in an immediate future), and this is what we call seeing things "as they should be." The other is an identification with the supreme Will and the perception that at each second everything is exactly as the Supreme wants it to be, that it is the precise expression of the Supreme. The first is a vision of what is coming and says, "That's how things should be." But we overlook the distance between what presently exists and what is coming. While if we go high above and become one with the Consciousness of the supreme Will, we see that at every instant, at every moment in the universe, all is exactly as it should beexactly as the Supreme wants it to be. That is Omnipotence.'
Saraswati represents the universal Mother's aspect of Knowledge and artistic creativity. On this occasion, Mother would go down to the Meditation Hall and the disciples would silently pass in front of her to receive a message. This year they would receive a folder containing five photographs of Mother.
Savitri, Vol. 29, XI.I.702.
0 1961-01-17, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But actually, there are really two quite different forms of self-deception. One can be very shocked by certain things, not for personal reasons but precisely because of ones goodwill and ardor to serve the Divine, when one sees people misconducting themselves, being egoistical, unfaithful, treacherous. There comes a stage when one has mastered these things and doesnt permit them to manifest IN ONESELF; but to the extent that one is in contact with ordinary consciousness, ordinary viewpoints, ordinary life and thought, their possibility is still there, latent, because they are the inverse of the qualities one is striving for. And this opposition always exists until one has risen above and no longer has either the quality or the defect. As long as one has virtue, one always has its latent opposite. The opposition disappears only when one is beyond virtue and sin.
But until then, there is this kind of indignation stemming from the fact that one is not entirely above: its a period when one totally disapproves of certain things and would be incapable of doing them. And up to this point, there is nothing to say, unless one gives an external, violent expression to his indignation. If anger interferes, it indicates an entire contradiction between the feeling one wants to have and this reaction towards others. Because anger is a deformation of vital power originating from an obscure and thoroughly unregenerate vital,1 a vital still subject to all the ordinary actions and reactions. When an ignorant, egoistic individual will exploits this vital power and encounters opposition from other individual wills around it, then under the pressure of opposition this power changes into anger and tries to obtain through violence what could not be achieved by the pressure of the Force alone.
Anger, moreover, like all forms of violence, is always a sign of weakness, impotence and incapacity. Here the deception comes from the approval one gives it or the flattering adjective one covers it with; for rage can be no more than blind, ignorant and asuricopposed to the light.
0 1961-01-22, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Mother had been unwell the past few days. She speaks here of the causes behind the physical disorder.)
Ah! How are you?
--
I saw it last night oof! It was a kind of artificial hurricane created by semi-human beings (that is, they have human forms but they arent men). They created the storm to cut me off from my home. But everything and everyone was disruptedit must have been going on for a rather long time. Finally last night it became quite amusing: I kept attempting to get to my home which was up above, but each time I tried to find a way everything was blocked by try to imagine, artificial, mechanical and electric thunderstorms, and then things made to cave in. All of it was artificial, nothing real, and yet terribly dangerous.
At last I found myself in a big place down below where there was a row of houses, all kinds of things, and it was absolutely essential that I go back upwhen suddenly a somewhat in distinct form (rather dark, unluminous) came to me and said, Oh, dont go there, its very bad, very dangerous! Theyve set it all up in a terrifying way: none can withstand it! You mustnt go there, wait a bit. And if you need something, do come, you know I have everything you need! (Mother laughs) its a little old and dusty but youll manage! Then she led me into a huge room filled with objects piled one on top of another, and in one corner she showed me a bathtubmy child, it was a marvel! A splendid pink marble bathtub! But it was unused, dusty and old. Well just wipe it off, she said, and youll be able to use it! She showed me other areas for washing and dressing, there was everything one could possibly need. You can use it all. Dont go up there! I looked at her closely. She struck me as having a tiny face, it was oddit wasnt a form, it was it was a form and yet it wasnt! As imprecise as that. Then I clasped her in my arms and cried out, Mother, you are nice! (Mother laughs) I knew then that she was material Mother Nature.
--
You were disrupting their work, is that it?
Yes, I am disrupting their work I know perfectly well that I am disrupting their domination of the world! All these vital beings have taken possession of the whole of Matter (Mother touches her body)life and action and have made it their domain, this is evident. But they are beings of the lower vital, for they seemed artificial they didnt express any higher form, but an entire range of artificial mechanisms, artificial will, artificial organization, all deriving from their own imagination and not at all from a higher inspiration.1 The symbol was very clear.
And I saw my own domain through them and through it all; I saw my domain: I can see it!, I said. But no sooner would I start on my way than the path would be lost, I no longer saw it, I couldnt see anymore where I was going. It became almost impossible to get my bearings there: hundreds and thousands of people, thingsutter confusion. An incoherent immensity and violent, what violence!
--
Oh, no! (Mother laughs) I dont use such violent means! No, no! It was very strange. When it fell upon me (four or five days ago, I no longer recall), everything I had gained materially disappeared! As though all that had been conquered and mastered, even what had begun to change, even wrong functionings that had completely ceased, all that had been set right and brought under control: gone! Gone! Completely gone! As if everything came back in one fell swoop.
I remained perfectly tranquil, there was nothing else to do; I knew it meant a battle. I was perfectly tranquil, but I could no longer eat, I could no longer rest, do japa2 or walk, and my head felt as though it would burst. I could only abandon myself (Mother opens her arms in a gesture of surrender), enter into a very, very deep trance, a very deep samadhithis is something one can always do. But that was the only thing left to me. Ideas were just as clear as ever (all that is above and doesnt budge), but my body was in a very bad way. It was a fight, a fight at each second. The least thing, just to walk a step, was a struggle, an awful battle!
Then last night I saw the symbol, the image of the thing. But what was it? It was an element in the most material Matter,3 because it was deep down below; yet despite it all, Mother Nature was in charge there: she was familiar with everything, knew everything and it was all at her disposalabsolutely the most material Nature. And she herself had no light, but was very, very she had a concealed power that was completely invisible.
Each time I set out to leave her domain and ascend above, it triggered a hurricane. I would pass this way and the storm started up, pass that way, unleash a gale. Finally she approached me and said very gently, very sweetly, in a most unassuming way, No, dont go there, dont go! Dont try to return to your home. They have set up a dreadful hurricane! And artificial: there were explosions like bombs everywhere, and even worse, like thunderbolts. One could see the artificial tricks and electrical effects they were using to create their thunder, but it was on a tremendous scale!
--
I simply consented to stay there. You will have all you need, stay here quietly. And what beautiful things she had, lovely things! They were unused and dusty. (It was surely the symbol of ancient realizationsrealizations of the ancient Rishis, things like that. Who knows?) They were first class, but completely neglected and thick with dust, like material objects left unusedwhich no one knew HOW to use. She put them at my disposal: Look, look, let me show you! There was a tremendous accumulation of things, piled in such great confusion that one couldnt see. Yet the marvel of it was that when she led me to a corner to show me something, everything immediately moved aside and order was restored, so that the object she wanted to show me stood out all by itself. And oh, a thing of beauty! Made of pink marble! A pink marble bathtub of a shape I didnt recognizenot Roman, not antique (not modern, far from it!)how beautiful it was! And whenever she wanted to show me something in this untidy and cluttered room full of objects piled one on top of another, they would organize themselves, take their proper place, and all became neat. You will just have to dust them off a bit, she said. (Mother laughs)
But Im not surprised it came down on you.
--
Something was obviously bent on preventing me from going down for the distribution.4 But by an act of will I went down. I will do it, I said. But it was difficult. There were moments when it sidled up to me: Now youre going to faint, and then, Now your legs will no longer be able to walk. Now. It kept coming like that. So I kept repeating the japa the whole time, and it was touch-and-go right up to the end. Finally I couldnt distinguish people, I saw only shapes, forms passing by, and not clearly. When the distribution was over, I got up (I knew I had to get up), I stood up without flinching and stepped down from the chair without faltering. But I was not careful and when I turned away from the light in the room to go towards the staircasean abrupt blackout. Not the blackout of a faintmy eyes no longer saw. I saw only shadows. Ah! I said to myself, where is the step?! And to avoid missing it, I clutched the railing. What a commotion that made! Champaklal came rushing up, thinking I was about to fall!
Anyhow.
--
On the previous day, January 21, Saraswati Puja, Mother had given a message and photos to each disciple.
Later, on the 27th, Mother remarked: 'I was reading about this very thing yesterday in The Secret of the Veda, in the first hymn translated by Sri Aurobindo (the reference is to the colloquy between Indra and Agastya, Rig Veda I.170cf. The Secret of the Veda, Cent. Ed., X.241 ff.), and it helped me put my finger on the problem. In this hymn there is a dispute between Indra and the Rishi because the Rishi wants to progress too quickly without first passing through Indra [the god of the Mind], and Indra stops him; finally they reach an agreement. Sri Aurobindo's commentary is quite interesting: when one has the INDIVIDUAL power to go directly, but neglects the steps which are still necessary for the whole, for the universal movement, then one is stopped short. That is absolutely my experience.'
***
0 1961-01-24, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
It lasted the remainder of the night and all day long I had considerable trouble containing an overwhelming power that spontaneously created reactions utterly disproportionate to a human body and made me speak in a way that. When something was not going well: wham! Such an instantaneous and strong reply that it looked like anger. And I found it difficult to control the movementit had happened already in the morning and it very nearly happened again in the afternoon. That last attack has weakened me terribly! I told myself, I dont have the strength to contain this Power; its difficult to remain calm and controlled. That was my first thought, so I insisted upon calm.
Then yesterday afternoon, when I went upstairs to walk,1 a couple of things occurrednot personal, but of a general natureconcerning, for instance, certain old-fashioned conventions having to do with women and their particular nature (not psychological, physical)old ideas like that which had always seemed utterly stupid to me suddenly provoked a kind of reprobation completely out of proportion to the fact itself. Then one or two other things2 happened in regard to certain people, certain circumstances (nothing to do with me personally: it came from here and there). Then suddenly, I saw a Force coming (coming, well, manifesting) which was the same as that thing I had felt within me but even bigger; it began whirling upon the earth and within circumstances oh, like a cyclone of compact power moving forward with the intention of changing all this! It had to change. At all costs, it must change!
--
When I got up today, I was going over all this to myself, and my first instinct was not to speak of it, to observe and see what would happen; but then I received a distinct and precise Command to tell it to you this morning. The experience had to be noted down just as it occurred, recorded in its exact form.
In the body now, there is a very clear not only a certitude, but a feeling that a certain omnipotence is not far away, and that very soon when it sees (it sees it! There is only one It in this whole affair, which is neither he nor she nor), when it sees that something must be, it automatically will be.
--
Does a servant come to your house? No one is sick in his family? Because what happens is that they dont want to lose their jobs or their salary, so they dont warn you. They may have smallpox or measles or chickenpox and they dont take the slightest care to wash or change their clothes; they come to your house and of course they bring along the disease. So the number of cases keeps multiplying and multiplying. I have been meaning to tell Pavitra to be careful of that little character who works for himeven ordinarily I dont like to see him running around here. Its strange how it sullies the atmosphereoh, you cant imagine! Almost all of them, almost all!
Its not at all the same as in the West, in Europe or America, not at all. Basically, the people in those countries are made of the same stuff as we are. But here thats not the case, because for centuries it never changeda Brahmin, for example, always remained a Brahmin, a Kshatria was always a Kshatria and all his servants were Kshatrias. It stayed in the family, in the sense that in each caste the servantsoften poor relativesbe longed to that same caste. From a social standpoint this might not have been too pleasant, but as far as atmosphere was concerned, it was very good. This was changed, however, first by the Muslim invasion, and then especially by the British.
--
We think these people are the way they are because the environment is bad, the education is poor, the conditions are difficultits not true! In the universal economy of things they REPRESENT something, a certain type of force and vibration. It will have to be either dissolved or transformed. Transformed? But perhaps that is. It may disappear along with the hostile forces. Perhaps once everything has been transformed it will disappear I dont know when.
In any case, I really tried my best, with all the power I had, all the knowledge I had, because I liked this girl a lot, it wasnt at all a question of charity, I found her very interesting. But I watchedwith a kind of horror, reallyas this past repossessed her more and more, more and more each day, until we were finally obliged to dismiss her, to tell her, Go. Yes, I understand, she replied, I cant stay here.
She lived in France from the age of thirteen, with all that those people did for her! (It was Ambroise Thomas, I remember now. They were so kind to her.) And naturally she had picked up very fine manners the outer appearances were all there.
--
There was a time when we had only a minimum of servants here and they always remained apartwe never had an epidemic. I dont know for how many years it wasyears and years while Sri Aurobindo was herewe never had a single case of an epidemic disease. It began when people started coming here with children; necessarily they brought their servants along with them, who went to the bazaar and even to the movies and here and there. Then everything came in.
But now the situation is bad. There are something like thirty cases of measles, four or five of smallpox and some chickenpox as well. You must be careful. I need you in good health, otherwise well have to stop everything!
0 1961-01-27, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
They are only too eager to believe that God can get angry with them! I try to dispel this notion as much as I can, because its not trueit isnt true.
(long silence)
--
I was perfectly conscious (now when I say I, it refers to my body, I am not speaking of the whole higher consciousness), the body was perfectly conscious of its suffering, the reason for its suffering, the cause of its suffering, everything and it did not suffer. You understand, the two perceptions were there together: the body saw the disorder, saw the suffering just as it would have felt it a few weeks earlier, it saw all that (saw, knew I dont know how to express itit was conscious, it was aware) and it did not suffer. The two awarenesses were absolutely simultaneous.
There is now a kind of VERY PRECISE knowledge of the whole inner mechanism for all thingsand what has to be done materially. This is developing, as a flower blossoms: you see one petal open and then another and then another; it is proceeding like that, slowly, taking its time. Its the same process for the Power.
--
It was about the Word, the primal sound. Sri Aurobindo speaks of it in Savitri: the essence of the Word and how it will express itself, how it will bring in the possibility of a supramental expression that will take the place of languages. I began by speaking to him about the different languages, their limitations and possibilities; and I warned him against the deformations imposed on languages with the idea of making them a more flexible means of expressing something else. I told him how completely ridiculous it all was, and that it didnt correspond at all to the truth. Then little by little I began ascending to the Origin. So yesterday again, I had this same experience: a whole world of knowledge, of consciousness and of CERTAINTYprecluding the least possibility of contradiction, discussion, or opposition; the possibility DOES NOT EXIST, it doesnt exist. And the mind was absolutely silent and immobile, listening with obvious pleasure because these things had never before come into my consciousness; I had never been concerned with them in that way. It was completely newnot new in principle but completely new in action.
The experiences are multiplying.
--
Oh, another little example. You know those photos I distributed on the 21st for the Saraswati Puja) Amrita told me he was going to send them to X,1 I but I told him, No, dont bother. (The 21st was a terrible day for me. All the dasyus of the world were in league against me, trying to stop me I understood this afterwards, when I saw those things.2 So thats what it is! I said to myself, Thats what has been going on!) Then after the night of the 24th, I went down for balcony-darshan3 with such a foursquare certaintyyou know, cubic: such a cubic certainty and I said to Amrita, You can send him those photos today, without an explanation, without a word, with nothing but a feeling of certainty, a kind of definite and absolute THATS HOW IT IS.
And that is a change, truly a change.
--
Balcony-darshan: up to 1962, Mother appeared every morning on the first-floor balcony to be seen by the disciples assembled on the street below.
***
0 1961-01-29, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
53The quarrels of religious sects are like the disputing of pots, which shall be alone allowed to hold the immortalizing nectar. Let them dispute, but the thing for us is to get at the nectar in whatever pot and attain immortality.
What is this nectar of immortality?
0 1961-01-31, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I am translating it to make myself understoodit wasnt like that at the time of the experience. Suppose, for example, that there was a disorder here or there in the body, not actually an illness (because illness implies some important inner factor such as an attack or the necessity for some transformation, many different things), but the outer expression of a disorder, such as swollen legs or a malfunctioning liver not an illness, a disorder, a functional disorder. Well, it was all utterly unimportant: IT IN NO WAY CHANGES THE BODYS TRUE CONSCIOUSNESS. Although we are in the habit of thinking that the body is very disturbed when its ill, when something is going wrong, its not so. It isnt disturbed in the way we understand it.
Then what is disturbed if not the body?
Oh, its the physical mind, this stupid mind! It makes all the trouble, always.
0 1961-02-04, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And interestingly enough, its smell is fantastically attractive to snakes; it makes them come from far away to nest in the shrubs. And as you know, the serpent is the power of evolution, it is Shivas own creature; he always puts them on his head and around his neck because they symbolize the power of evolution and transformation. And snakes like this flower; it often grows near rivers, and wherever there is a cluster of the plants you are sure to discover snake nests.
I find this very interesting, for WE didnt decide it should be like this: these are conscious vibrations in Nature. The fragrance, the color, the shape, are simply the spontaneous expressions of a true movement.
--
One could almost say that of all animals, the serpent is the most sensitive to hypnotic or magnetic power. If you have it (magnetic power comes from the most material vital), you can easily gain a mastery over snakes; all the people who like snakes have it and use it to make snakes obey them. Thats how I got out of my encounter with the cobra at Tlemcen7do you know the story? Theon had told me about this power and I was aware of it in myself, so I was able to make the cobra obey and he left. Afterwards (Ive told this story, too), I was visited by the King of Serpents I mean the spirit of the species. He came to me in Tlemcen after this and another incident when I helped a cat overpower a little asp (there are asps over there like Cleopatras, very dangerous)a big russet angora cat. At first it started to play with the asp, but then naturally grew furious. The asp struck at the cat, but the cat leapt aside with such swiftness that the asp missed it (I watched this going on for more than ten minutes, it was extraordinary). Just as the snake darted by, the cat would swat at it with all his claws outand the asp got scratched each time, so that little by little it ran out of energy, and at the end. I stopped the cat from eating it that part was disgusting!
Then after these two incidents, I received a visit one night from the King of Serpents. He was wearing a superb crown on his headsymbolic, of course, but anyway, he was the spirit of the species. He had the appearance of a cobra, and he was wonderful! A formidable beast, and wonderful! He said he had come to make a pact with me: I had demonstrated my power over his species, so he wanted to come to an understanding. All right, I said, what do you propose? I not only promise that serpents wont harm you, he replied, but that they will obey you. But you must promise me something in return: never to kill one of them. I thought it over and said, No, I cant make this promise, because if ever one of yours attacks one of mine (a being that depends upon me), my pact with you could not stop me from protecting him. I can assure you that I have no bad feelings and no intention of killingkilling is not on my program! But I cant commit myself, because it would restrict my freedom of decision. He left without replying, so it remains status quo.
--
And do you know how he received me when I arrived there? It was the first time in my life I had traveled alone and the first time I had crossed the Mediterranean. Then there was a fairly long train ride between Oran and Tlemcenanyway, I managed rather well: I got there. He met me at the station and we set off for his place by car (it was rather far away). Finally we reached his estatea wonder! It spread across the hillside overlooking the whole valley of Tlemcen. We arrived from below and had to climb up some wide pathways. I said nothingit was truly an experience from a material standpoint. When we came in sight of the house, he stopped: Thats my house. It was red! Painted red! And he added, When Barley came here, he asked me, Why did you paint your house red? (Barley was a French occultist who put Theon in touch with France and was his first disciple.) There was a mischievous gleam in Theons eyes and he smiled sardonically: I told Barley, Because red goes well with green! With that, I began to understand the gentleman. We continued on our way uphill when suddenly, without warning, he spun around, planted himself in front of me, and said, Now you are at my mercy. Arent you afraid? Just like that. So I looked at him, smiled and replied, Im never afraid. I have the Divine here. (Mother touches her heart.)
Well, he really went pale.
--
So, mon petit. Sri Aurobindo always said the greatest obstacle to true understanding and participation in the Work is common sense. He said thats why Nature creates madmen from time to time! They are people not strong enough to bear the dismantling of this petty stupidity called common sense.
Its time to go now. Do you have anything to say?
Sometimes I am a little troubled because I dont feel I am advancing much or having any experiences. Nothing seems to be happening. Its rather discouraging and at times I wonder why
Lately, the nights are being spent in a subconscious realm that absolutely must be clarified; its precisely the realm where one feels helpless, foolish, ignorant, utterly unprogressive, bound up in all sorts of stupidities. It all must be clarified.
These nights, I have been having experiences which, if I didnt know what I do or hadnt had the experiences Ive had, would be very discouraging: how to get out of it? Seekers have always had the very same impression: that we are all incurable imbeciles. And always the same solution, to flee life and escape this folly. Now I see it from another angle.
But its truly a burden.
--
Tapasya: ascetic or yogic discipline.
Asura: demon of the mental plane embodying the forces of division and darkness.
0 1961-02-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Mother reads the following letter aloud in English, before sending it to a disciple.)
You ask me what you must do. It would be better to ask what you must be, because the circumstances and activities in life have not much importance. What is important is our way of reacting towards them.
--
When we used to discuss all these things and the difficulties of the path, Sri Aurobindo told me (he was comparing his body to mine): I dont have the stuff of such endurance. I was not cut out like thatyour body is solid! (gesture)
What trials it has gone through! And its so docile, so docile, it doesnt complain.
0 1961-02-11, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Last night I had a dream about you that made a vivid impression on me. Its probably absurd, but it was so real! You had called me because you were going to leave your body: you had decided to leave and you wanted somehow to say good-bye. It was so real! I came to you and for a moment you placed my head on your knees, and I was filled with light; it was very tender. But at the same time, I knew you were saying good-bye, you were going to leave your body, and I wept in my dream. Then I went to sit in a corner because there were other people who probably had come to see you as well. I remained in that corner, strickenit seemed so real, you understand! Just then, aman I didnt know entered the room (I knew he was French), a stranger dressed all in black, and he started making a loud commotion. He was smoking a pipe,2 a very coarse man, and he wanted to make all the people there, the disciples, get out of the room .3 It was so real! I awoke with a start and almost cried aloud, Ah, its a dream! Its only a dream!
Oh, it was that real!
--
The body doesnt ask (its so docile), it doesnt even ask for its sufferings to stopit adapts to them. Its mainly my contact with people that makes the thing difficult: when I am all alone upstairs, everything goes well, quite well. But when I spend one or one and a half hours in the afternoon seeing people, afterwards I feel exhausted. That, obviously, is whats making the thing difficult. But the body doesnt complain. It doesnt complain, its ready. The other day when it went back upstairs, it felt a bitwell, at the end of its resources, as though it had pushed itself to the limit. It said to the Lord (and it said this so clearly, as though the consciousness of the cells were speaking; I noted it down): If this (I cant call it an illness there is no illness! Its a condition of general disequilibrium), if this condition is necessary for Your Work, then so be it, let it go on. But if its an effect of my stupidity (you see, its the BODY saying, If its because I dont understand or I am not adapting or not doing what I should or not taking the proper attitude), if it is an effect of my stupidity, then truly I pray that. It asks only to changeto know and to change!
It is attached to nothing: none of its habits, none of its ways of being-nothing. It says in all sincerity, I ask only for the Light, only to change. That is its state. it has never, never said, Oh, Im tired, Ive had enough! Bah! Its not like that. It is attached to nothing for a long, long time it has ceased to have desiresit is attached to nothing at all, to nothing. There isnt a single thing for which it says, Oh, I cant do without that! Not one. It doesnt care-if something comes, it takes it; if it doesnt come, the body doesnt think about it. In other words, its truly good-natured. But if this isnt sufficient, then it doesnt know and it says, If there is something I cant do or I dont know or I am not doing It asks for nothing more than to make the necessary effort!
--
It all began with some extremely violent attacks. So if your dream is not premonitory, then it must be the result of their formation, by which they intend to disseminate the conviction everywhere, as much as possible, that this is the end. Two years ago, when I had to retire to my room, a formidable campaign was set into operation upon all the Ashram people; and all those who were a little receptive, either in dreams or through an openness to suggestions, heard it clearly announced: On the 9th of December of this year [1958], Mother will leave. Theres no doubt about it, its sure. It was said to me as well: This will be the end, you will leave. It was repeated to everybody, everybody, a great many people heard itthey were virtually awaiting it. And this is why (you know how extremely ill I was at the time, I was really ill), this is why I didnt react, but all the same I didnt go to the lake [the lake estate where Mother was to have gone on the 9th of December], because I told myself, If anything happens there, it will be awkward I had better not go. But still I knew it wasnt true, I knew it.
Now this kind of attack has stopped, it is no longer like that. But there are beings who send dreams. For example, some dreams were sent to Z (who, as you know, is quite clairvoyant), in which she was told I would be broken to pieces. She was very upset and I had to intervene. Is your dream of this nature, or are you being forewarned? I dont know, I cant say. If the doctor were asked, perhaps he would say that if it continues like this, obviously (you see, one thing after another is getting disorganized), if it continues in this way, how long can the body last?
But this body feels so strongly that it exists ONLY because the divine Power is in it. And constantly, for the least thing, it has only one remedy (it doesnt think of resting, of not doing this or that, of taking medicine), its sole remedy is to call and call the Supremeit goes on repeating its mantra. And as soon as it quietly repeats its mantra, it is perfectly content. Perfectly content.
--
(After a long silence) This would rather indicate those who disapprove of my non-asceticism. It would seem to originate from those particular forces.
You see, theres a curious fluctuation possibly indicating that your dream is part of the present attack which continues with such violence. The night before last, between midnight and half-past, there was a formidable attack. When I emerged from it, I felt that something had lifted, a victory had been won and that the bodys condition had improved. It happens like that, the horizon clears and this Certainty comes with. (The presence is always hereSri Aurobindo and I are together almost every night but the night when I saw that formation, the illness spell over the Ashram, Sri Aurobindo was quite sick in his bed, just as I saw him in 1950.) So when it lifts, all is well: once again there is harmony, there is joy, there is force and again the whole thing continues, the effort continues, consciously. Yet there is a kind of fluctuation: it will go on like that for a few moments or a few hours and then suddenly everything becomes muddled again and I am beset by a fatigue. A fatigue which is I cant say almost unbearable, because nothing in the consciousness feels it to be unbearable but it makes me like this (Mother clenches her fist tightly in a tension to hold on).
--
The whole disorder evidently originates from the subconscient and inconscient; all the more so as it came with various indications (sent by the hostile forces but this can always be useful, provided you are careful) saying, Yes, everything is going well in your higher centers, but(because the different points of attack have clearly followed the order of the centers). Four or five days ago, or maybe a week, before this latest difficulty occurred, I saw little beings coming out of the subconscient and saying, Ah! Your legs havent had any trouble for a long time! Its the turn of the lower centers! I swept it all away, of course, but.
Taken this way, it could be an indication that all this needs a somewhat brutal preparation in order to be put in the necessary condition.
--
This detachment, as I told you, came afterwards (it was evidently in dispensable); and as soon as it came, everything began to get disorganized. Well, the detachment must surely have come so that. Actually, my immediate impression was: so that I wouldnt get worried and say to myself, Oh, now it wont work any morethis is the end. So I wouldnt worry. All right, I said, dont bother with it.(gesture of surrender, hands opened upwards) And for the first two or three days I was absolutely detached, watching and not bothering about it. Its only with this last attack on my legs. Because the rest of it tired me and made me ill but it didnt hinder my work; but things become difficult when the legs dont function.
We shall see, mon petit! Well see whats going to happen (Mother laughs).
--
But truly speaking, the minute one completely emerges from the ordinary mind, NO EXTERIOR SIGN IS A PROOF, absolutely none. There is absolutely no standard to go byneither splendid good health nor good equilibrium, nor an almost general disorganizationnone of these. All depends exclusivelyexclusivelyon what the Lord has decided. Exclusively. Consequently, if one remains very quiet, one is sure to know what He has decided.
When I am perfectly tranquil, I immediately live in a beatific joy where questions dont arisethere are no questions! One asks for nothingone LIVES! One lives happily, and thats all. Theres no, Will it be like this? Will it be like that?how chil dish! There are no questions, questions dont arise. One is a beatitude manifesting, that is all.
--
The terminology used by Mother and Sri Aurobindo is distinct from the terminology of Western psychology. This is how Sri Aurobindo defines 'inconscient' and 'subconscient': 'All upon earth is based on the Inconscient, as it is called, though it is not really inconscient at all, but rather a complete "sub"-conscience, a suppressed or involved consciousness, in which there is everything but nothing is formulated or expressed. The subconscient lies between this Inconscient and the conscious mind, life and body.'
Cent. Ed., XXII, p. 354
--
Since 'Bohr's atom' at the beginning of the century, which with its electrons orbiting around a central nucleus like planets around a sun was to have been the mathematical model representing the ultimate constituent of matter, nuclear physicists have discovered many new elementary particles in the universe: from leptons to baryons, with neutrinos, pions, kaons, psi and khi particles in between!
A recentand unifying (!)theory postulated by the American Nobel Laureate, Murray Gell-Mann, would reduce this somewhat startling enumeration to more reasonable proportions through the introduction of a unique sub-particle constituting all matter: the quark. Nevertheless, there would still exist several kinds of quarks (e.g., 'strange,' 'charmed,' 'colored' in red, yellow and blue) for accommodating the various qualities of matter. A proton, for example, would consist of three quarks: red, yellow and blue. However, it should be noted that quarks are basically mathematical intermediaries to facilitate the comprehension or interpretation of certain experiments thus far unexplained. Moreover, the simple question still remains, even if they do exist materially: 'What are quarks made of?'
0 1961-02-14, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Sri Aurobindo wants to make the distinction between the progressive soul (the soul which has experiences and progresses from life to life), what can be called the lower soul, and the higher soul, that is, the eternal, immutable and divine soulessentially divine. He wrote this when he was in contact with certain Theosophical writings, before I introduced Theons vocabulary to him. For Theon, there is the divine center which is the eternal soul, and the psychic being; similarly, to avoid using the same word in both cases, Sri Aurobindo speaks in later writings of the psychic being and of the divine center or central being the essential soul.
What if we translate it la partie suprieure de lme, [the higher part of the soul], rather than me suprieure?
0 1961-02-18, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
To give a rather curious example, there was a kind of spell of illness over the Ashram, stemming mainly from peoples thoughts, from their way of thinking. It was quite widespread and it was horrible, gloomy, full of fear, pettiness, blind submission, oh! Everyone was in a state of expectation.1 In short, the atmosphere was such that there was an attempt to prevent me from leaving my room I had to sneak out! It was disgusting! Well, on the very night I saw the spell over the Ashram, Sri Aurobindo was lying sick in his bed, just as I had seen him in 1950. Normally, we spend almost every night together, doing this, seeing that, arranging things, talkingits a kind of second life behind this one, and it makes existence pleasant. But that night when I had to sneak out of my room (in my nightgown!), and people were trying to find me to (laughing) force me back into bed, he was lying sick in bedand this struck me hard, for it means these things still affect him in his consciousness. He was in a kind of trance and not at all well. It didnt last, but nonetheless.
Oh, the things that can collect there,2 ugh!
--
But Z is not honest. He hasnt been honest at all. We were forced to intervene once or twice because his deletions distorted the meaning. We finally told him (for the book published here), We wont publish it unless you restore these things.
(silence)
--
Oh, in that, too, there are a lot of. I myself wasnt present, so I dont know what Sri Aurobindo said, but I have a kind of feeling. Just recently they wanted to publish something similar in Mother India6Conversations with me noted by A. Luckily it was sent to me first: I Cut EVERYTHING! Such platitudes, my child! Oh, it was disgusting. I said, This is impossible. I have NEVER spoken like that, never! It was flat, flat, flat, with a superficial, word-for-word understanding! Oh, horrible, horrible. Whatever passes through people is terribly, terribly loweredpopularized, made commonplace.
Anyhow. Only Sri Aurobindo can speak of Sri Aurobindo. And as for their notes, its still Sri Aurobindo A la Z, or Sri Aurobindo A la A, and all the more so since Sri Aurobindo wrote in very different ways depending upon the person he was writing to (gesture indicating different levels).
--
Tomorrow Ill be going down for handkerchief distribution7to wipe away the tears! (Mother laughs like a mischievous little girl and goes out.)
Note that a few days earlier [the night of February 12], a disciple had a very symbolic dream in which she saw all the disciples gathered near the Ashram's main gate with an air of consternation, as though something had happened to Mother.
In the subconscient.
--
A long-time disciple (Suzanne Karpeles) and a member of the cole Franaise d'Extrme Orient.
A monthly review published by the Ashram.
On the Sunday preceding each Darshan (this February 21st, Mother would be 84), Mother used to distribute saris, napkins or handkerchiefs to the disciples.
***
0 1961-02-25, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I replied very briefly in English. I havent brought my answer with me, but I can tell you right away that there are two signstwo certain, infallible signs. I know them through personal experience, for they are two things that can ONLY come with the supramental consciousness; without it, one cannot possess themno yogic effort, no discipline, no tapasya can give them to you, while they come almost automatically with the supramental consciousness.
The first sign is perfect equality as Sri Aurobindo has described it (you must know it, theres a whole chapter on equality, samat, in The Synthesis of Yoga)exactly as he described it with such wonderful precision! But this equality (which is not equanimity) is a particular STATE where one relates to all things, outer and inner, and to each individual thing, in the same way. That is truly perfect equality: vibrations from things, from people, from contacts have no power to alter that state.
--
There is only one thing you can doANNUL YOURSELF as much as possible. If you can annul yourself completely, then the experience is total. And if your disappearance could be constant, the experience would be constantly there but thats still far away. I dont know if all this (Mother looks at her body).
(silence)
Obviously, the body needed a test, a VERY SEVERE test, because from a personal viewpoint, its the only explanation I can find for all these disorders. There are many explanations from a general viewpoint, but. Anyway, I will know the day I am toldall these imaginings are useless. But from a personal viewpoint. You see, for a long time (more than a year now, probably almost two), this body hasnt felt its limits.14 It is not at all its former self; it is scarcely more than a concentration now, a kind of agglomeration of something; it is not a body in a skinnot at all. Its a sort of agglomeration, a concentration of vibrations. And even what is normally called illness (but it is not illness, these are not illnesses, they are functional disorders), even these functional disorders dont have the same meaning for the body as they have for the doctor, for instance, or for ordinary people. Its not like that, the body doesnt feel it like that. It feels it rather as as a kind of difficulty in adjusting to some new vibratory need.
(silence)
Formerly, when it couldnt do its work, the body had a kind of impatiencea feeling that despite all its aspiration and goodwill to be a fit instrument, these disorders were barring the way. Even this has completely gone.
Now the body has a kind of extraordinary smile for everything. At the end of the day, with the accumulation of everything coming from the people I have seen and the work I have done, when I have to push and pull myself just to climb the stairs because my legs are like iron rods, without any will (thats the most terrible part: they dont respond to the will), even at times like these, when my arms are what pull me up the stairs (no longer my legs), the body doesnt protest, doesnt protest. Then it begins walking back and forth for japa. And after half an hour of walking, things are infinitely better (Mother makes a gesture of the Force descending into her body).
--
Its a rather amusing sensation, a combination of sensation and feeling, that the ordinary human attitude towards things multiplies and magnifies the difficulties to FANTASTIC proportions; while if they simply had the true attitudea NORMAL attitude, quite simple, uncomplicatedahh, all life would be much easier. For the body feels the vibrations (those very vibrations which concentrate to form a body), it feels their nature and sees that its normal reaction, a peaceful and confident reaction, makes things so much easier! But as soon as this agitation of anxiety, fear, discontent comes in, the reaction of a will that doesnt want any of it oh, right away it becomes like water boiling: pff! pff! pff! like a machine. While if the difficulty is accepted with confidence and simplicity, its reduced to its minimum, and I mean purely materially, in the material vibration itself.
Almost (I say almost because the body hasnt had every experience), but almost all pains can be reduced to something absolutely negligible. (Of course, some pains it hasnt had, but it has had a sufficient number!) Its this anxiety resulting from a semi-mental vibration (the first stirrings of Mind) that complicates everything, everything! For example, take this difficulty I mentioned of climbing the stairs: in the doctors consciousness or anyone elses, pain causes it. According to their ordinary reasoning, pain is what tenses the nerves and muscles so one can no longer walk but this is absolutely FALSE. Pain does not prevent my body from doing anything at all. Pain isnt a factor, or rather its a factor that can be easily dealt with. Its not that: it is Matter; Matter (probably cellular matter, or) losing its capacity to respond to the will, to will-power. But why? I dont know! It depends upon the particular disorganization; but why is it like that? I dont know. Now each time I climb the stairs, I am trying to find the means of infusing Will in such a way that this lack of response doesnt last but I still havent found it. Although theres all this accumulated force and power and will (a tremendous accumulation, I am BATHED in it, the whole body is bathed in it!), yet for some reason it doesnt respond. Here and there, groups of cells fail to respond, and the Force cannot act. So what must be found is.
(silence)
--
Are these disorders necessary for it to become like that? I have my doubts. I have my doubts. But the question cant even be asked, because what it implies seems to verge on a fatalism having no truth in itselfit is not a fatalism, not at all. What is it? Something that defies expression.
(silence)
Even the body, the body itself, has the constant perception of bathing in the vibration of the CONCRETE divine Presence; so certainly from a psychological standpoint there is not the slightest shadow in the picture. Even from the material standpoint, this Presence is here. Yet although it is here, felt, perceived and experienced, there is still this disorder! (I call it disorder.)
(long silence)
--
The physical disorder that had principally attacked Mother's legs.
The following is the exact text of Mother's reply to this American gentleman:
--
'There is no longer this kind of opposition between what is an agreeable impact and what is a disagreeable one. There are no more "agreeable" things and " disagreeable" things: they are simply vibrations one registers. Usually when people receive a shock they do this (gesture of recoil), then they reflect, concentrate, and finally restore peace. But equality does not mean that! That's not what it is. The state must be SPONTANEOUS, constant and invariable.'
Atman: the Self or Spirit.
0 1961-03-04, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Oh, its dreadful, each one (Mother is referring to the disciples). Well, never mind.
Im not so late today.
--
But the danger isnt to be taken in, but to be disgusted by it!
disgusted? But that amounts to the same thing!
Theyll say, So thats Sri Aurobindo!
--
A movement launched by some disciples for 'the unification of the world.'
Sadhana: spiritual quest and discipline.
A politician, disciple of Sri Aurobindo and friend of Jawaharlal Nehru.
Nehru.
0 1961-03-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
How long it has taken me oh, its disgraceful! Ill have to start coming down at 9 a.m., but then I wont get anything done upstairs, thats the problem.
But Mother, the earlier you come down, the more of your time theyll take!
--
I have brought you a whole discourse! (Mother gives Satprem some flowers) First, the goal of the Vedas: Immortality.1 That was their goal: the Truth that led to Immortality. Immortality was their ambition. I dont think it was physical immortality but I am not sure, because they do speak of the forefa thers and this refers to the initiatory tradition prior to the Vedas as well as the Kabbala, and immortality on earth is spoken of there: the earth transformedSri Aurobindos idea. So although they didnt explicitly state it, perhaps they knew.
(Mother gives more flowers) This one is more on the personal side: Friendship with the Divine2, the friendly relationship you can have with the Divineyou understand each other, you dont fear each other, youre good friends! And this one is a wonder! (Mother gives Divine Love Governing the World3) What strength! Its generous, expansive, without narrowness, pettiness, or limitationswhen that comes.
--
I knew when I caught it: it was at the Playground.4 Certain people poisoned me with a mosquito bite the instant the mosquito bit me, I knew, because it so happens I am a little bit conscious! But I controlled it like this (gesture of holding the disease in abeyance and under control), so it couldnt stir. Probably it would never have stirred if I hadnt had that experience of January 24 and the body didnt need to be made ready. For the body to be ready, a host of things belonging to the dasyus, as the Vedas say, cant be stored inside it! These are very nasty little dasyus (laughing), they have to be chased away!
When the disease came back, I said to myself, Very well, this means it must be dealt with in a new way.
(silence)
--
Until 1958, Mother went daily to the Ashram Playground, from 5 p.m. to 9 or 10 in the evening, to see people and give her direct spiritual help to some 2,000 disciples who passed before her one by one.
Mother is referring to the movements of consciousness, both good and bad, of those whom she has accepted as disciples and taken into her consciousness.
Mother was already seeking the 'new food.'
0 1961-03-11, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
56When, O eager disputant, thou hast prevailed in a debate, then art thou greatly to be pitied; for thou hast lost a chance of widening knowledge.
How fine! Many things could be said.
What use are discussions? in general, those who like to discuss need the stimulation of contradiction to clarify their ideas.
Its a thing I live almost constantly: I have people like that around me!
--
But if you can witness a discussion as an impartial spectator (I mean even if you are involved in the discussion), you can always gain a lot from it by considering a question or a problem from several points of view; and by trying to reconcile opposing opinions, you can broaden your ideas and rise to a more comprehensive synthesis.
What is the best way to make others understand what you feel to be true?
--
Theon used to say it wasnt (how to put it?) inevitable. In the total freedom of the manifestation, this voluntary separation from the Origin is the cause of all the disorder. How to explain it? Words express these things so poorly. We can call it inevitable because it happened! But outside of this creation, a creation can be imagined (or could have been) where this disorder would not have occurred. Sri Aurobindo saw it in approximately the same way: a sort of accident, as it were but an accident allowing the manifestation a far greater and more total perfection than if it had never occurred. But this is all still in the realm of speculation, and useless speculation at that. In any case, the experience, the feeling, is that all at once (Mother makes the gesture of a brutal fall) oh!
For the earth it probably happened like that, all at once: a sort of ascent, then the fall. But the earth is a tiny concentrationuniversally, its something else.
--
A time comes when all these disputesAh, no, this is like this, that is like thatseem so silly, so silly! And there is nothing more comical than this spontaneous reply so many people give: Oh, thats impossible! Because with even the most rudimentary intellectual development, you would know you couldnt even think of something if it werent possible!
(silence)
0 1961-03-14, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
In other words, this coexistence or simultaneity of joy and tension, combat and peace, progress in the cellular consciousness and physical disequilibrium, form a physiological whole which is ... strange.
***
0 1961-03-17, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Between 2 and 3 oclock this morning, I had an experience something resurging from the subconscient: it was appalling, my child, the disclosure of an appalling inefficiency! disgraceful!
The experience occurred in a place corresponding to ours [the main Ashram building], but immense: the rooms were ten times bigger, but absolutely one cant say emptythey were barren. Not that there was nothing in them, but nothing was in order, everything was just where it shouldnt be. There wasnt any furniture so things were strewn here and therea dreadful disarray! Things were being put to uses they werent made for, yet nothing needed for a particular purpose could be found. The whole section having to do with education [the Ashram School] was in almost total darkness: the lights were out with no way to switch them on, and people were wandering about and coming to me with incoherent, stupid proposals. I tried to find a comer where I could rest (not because I was tired; I simply wanted to concentrate a little and get a clear vision in the midst of it all), but it was impossible, no one would leave me alone. Finally I put a tottering armchair and a footstool end-to-end and tried to rest; but someone immediately came up (I know who, Im purposely not giving names) and said, Oh! This wont do at all! It CANT be arranged like that! Then he began making noise, commotion, disorderwell, it was awful.
To wind it all up, I went to Sri Aurobindos rooman enormous, enormous room, but in the same state. And he appeared to be in an eternal consciousness, entirely detached from everything yet very clearly aware of our total incapacity.
He hadnt eaten (probably because no one had given him anything to eat), and when I entered, he asked me if it was possible to have some breakfast. Yes, of course! I said, Ill go get it, expecting to find it ready. Then I had to hunt around to find something: everything was stuffed into cupboards (and misplaced at that), all disarranged disgusting, absolutely disgusting. I called someone (who had been napping and came in with sleep-swollen eyes) and told him to prepare Sri Aurobindos breakfast but he had his own fixed ideas and principles (exactly as he is in real life). Hurry up, I told him, Sri Aurobindo is waiting. But hurry? Impossible! He had to do things according to his own conceptions and with a terrible awkwardness and ineptitude. In short, it took an infinite amount of time to warm up a rather clumsy breakfast.
Then I arrived at Sri Aurobindos room with my plates. Oh, said Sri Aurobindo, it has taken so long that I will take my bath first. I looked at my poor breakfast and thought, Well, I went to so much trouble to make it hot and now its going to get cold! All this was so sordid, so sad.
0 1961-03-21, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Then I woke up (I always wake up three or four times during the night) and when I went back to bed I had an attack of what the doctor and I have taken to be filariasis but a strange type of filariasis, for as soon as I master it in one spot it appears in another, and when I master it there it reappears somewhere else. Last night it was in the arms (it lasted quite a while, between 2:30 and 4 a.m.); but I was fully conscious, and each time the attack came, I went like this (gestures over the arms, to drive away the attack) and my arms were not affected at all. When it was over, I consciously entered the most material subtle physical, just beyond the body. I was sitting in my room there (an immense, cubic room) reading or writing something, when I heard the door open and close, but I was busy and didnt pay attention, presuming it was one of the people usually around me. Then suddenly I had such an unpleasant sensation in my body that I raised my head and looked, and I saw someone there. Do you know how the magicians in Europe dress, in short satin breeches and a shirt? He was wearing something like that. He was Indian, tall and rather dark, with slicked-down hairwhat you would normally call a handsome young man. He seemed to have been drawn1 there becausehe was standing in front of me staring into space, not looking at me. And the moment I saw him, there was the same sensation in all my cells as I have with what Ive been calling filariasis (its a special, minute kind of pain) and simultaneously all the cells felt disgusta tremendous will of rejection. Then I sat up straight (I didnt stand up) and said to him as forcefully as possible, How do you dare to come in here! I said it so loudly that the noise woke me up! I dont know what happened then, but things went much better afterwards.
The moment I saw this person I knew he was only an instrument, but a well-paid instrumentsomeone paid a great deal to have him do that! I would recognize him again among hundreds I can still see him I see him more clearly than with physical eyes. He is an unintelligent man with no personal animosity, merely a very well-paid instrumentsomeone is hiding behind him, using him as a screen.
--
When I came down this morning I didnt want my cold to disturb the meditation with X, and this immobility came (Mother brings down her fists, showing a solid mass descending). Its what he uses for healing and I must say that the same thing happens to me, even when it doesnt come from him: a Force that seizes everything, stops everythingno more vibrations, an immobility.
I had told N. to knock at the door when he arrived with X, but he didnt do itluckily I heard the door opening. I stood up, still in that state and almost fell over! X must have thought I was having a spell of weakness or something, because I was holding onto the arms of the chair, and when I took his flowers, my hands were trembling I wasnt in my body. And afterwards, ah, what a concentration! We remained in it for about thirty-five minutes. It was SOLIDan extraordinary solidity! I didnt want to waste time waiting for it to subside before coming here, and you must have seen how I was when I arrived: like a sleepwalker! I said to the people I passed in the corridor, Im coming back, Im coming back! Thats all I could say, like an idiot.
--
Well see if last nights discovery has any results. This cold was all I needed! Its absolutely ridiculous.
I didnt give it to you, did I?
--
Satprem was trying to patch up some French translations of Sri Aurobindo done by well-meaning but not very gifted disciples, who of course wanted 'to publish' at all costs.
This 'massive immobility' Mother spoke of earlier.
0 1961-03-25, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
[This letter has disappeared.]
Its not that you dont have experiences! You even have access to regions where people very rarely go; you are capable of receiving light, intuitions, revelations but this is probably so normal for you that you dont notice it! I came to meditate with you especially to see what was preventing you from being conscious. And on your right side, I saw a sort of crystallization somewhat as though you were inside a statue.
0 1961-03-27, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The extreme subjectivity of experiences is very disconcerting.
Yesterday, while waiting for X, I was as usual in communion with the Supreme in his aspect of Love. Suddenly I felt X arriving and spontaneously, like a Veda, a movement of gratitude for his great goodwill arose from my heart, and it was formulated as a prayer to the Supreme: Give him [X] the bliss of Your Love and the joys of Your Truth.
--
Its not that I was disappointed by his way of being, certainly not; but it has suddenly confronted me with a terrible problem: Is it impossible to live a truth in material consciousness? Is it really impossible? An absolute, I mean an absolute truthnot something entirely subjective and relative, each one living his own truth in his own manner. Will one person always be like this and the other like that and the third like something else? So that only by putting all the pieces together do we actually amount to anything and yet to what?! Is it completely impossible for absolute truth to manifest in the present state of Matter? This is the problem that has seized me.
Why? Probably because I was ready to face it. But it has been posed so intensely. It was so intense that it was painful.
--
It ruffles me because its like a negation of my power. Till yesterday I had never experienced anything of the kind! On the 29th, you know, it will be forty-seven years since I first came here3thats not exactly yesterday! And ever since I began working with Sri Aurobindo, I have had the sense of this Power, it has never left me; so. It is disconcerting to have this kind of episode come up after such a long time.
Ill try to speak with X and find out exactly what happened.
--
I probably needed the experience. You remember that type of detachment I spoke of when I had that experiencewhen the BODY had that experience of January 24, 1961well, it has increased to such an extent that it now applies to anything and everything linked with action on earth. This detachment was probably necessary. It began with something like things dissolving (Mother makes a gesture of crumbling something between her fingers); certain kinds of links between my consciousness and the Work were dissolving (not links with me, because I dont have any, but with the body; the whole physical consciousness, all that attaches it to the things in its environment, to the Work and to the entourage I spoke to you about that in regard to physical immortality; well, thats what is happening now). Its like things dissolving dissolving, dissolving, dissolving. And its more and more pronounced. During these last days, things have been becoming increasingly difficultdifficulties have been coming one after another, one after another. Formerly, I had the power to get a grip on them and hold them (Mother tightens her grip as though mastering circumstances); but now that this type of detachment has begun, things drift away everywhereeverywhere, everywhere.
So this episode with X is probably part of the same process. What has been affected is a certain confidence in the REALITY of the Power, the REALITY of spiritual action; there seems to be no communication between here (above) and there (below).
--
We mustnt get discouraged.
The absolute certainty of the Victory is unquestionable; but I am not speaking at the scale of our bounded mind. Its up to us to CHANGE TACKthis is whats expected of us, to change tack and not keep going round in circles.
0 1961-04-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Its not something miraculous, you know. To be really satisfied, the human mind always needs some kind of miracle. In its thought, the miraculous is associated with the Divine. I know, because I was born like that. I felt like that when I was very young. And only because life has dealt me some extremely brutal denials have I come to this kind of sober and reasonable attitude. You know (I told you this the other day), its disgusting! (Mother laughs) All the bloom has gone banished by the hard knocks of life. For I was born with this feeling that yes, that Truth is something miraculous, which has only to show itself to prevail.
It would be like thatwithout the adverse forces.
--
I have never written or spoken to X about this, but through mental contact I have told him I dont know how many times: Satprem has a work to accomplish that is INFINITELY more important than reciting mantras. If it can help him to discipline himself, fine, but its nothing more; he will not accomplish his work by reciting mantras. He has something to do and he will do it. I have hammered that into his head (Mother laughs).
So, petit, see you tomorrow.
0 1961-04-08, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Later, concerning the disciples very traditionalist guru who falls ill each time he comes to the Ashram:)
He seems to understand better. In his own way, he is progressiveunfortunately, it always makes him sick! The Force is too great for his body to bear.
0 1961-04-12, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(The disciple asks for permission to poison some cats who have been disturbing him every night. Mother replies:)
I once had a cat with almost a childs consciousness, and someone poisoned it. And when he came back poisoned, dying, I cursed all people who poison cats. And thats serious, so you mustnt do it. It was a real curse I was with Sri Aurobindo, so it was seriousso dont do it.
--
The next day, all the newspapers were full of a vile murder: a pimp had murdered this boyit was disgusting! Something utterly vile. And it had happened at the very moment he should have come the concierge had seen him going into the house with this pimp. What happened? Was it just for money or for something elsevice? Or what?
But both times, the incarnation was so (how to put it?) powerful that the eyes changed; the eyes of the cat changed completely into the eyes of the dead person. Unmistakable. Both came to me and both times there was the same movement, the same kind of feline howlyou know how they sound.
0 1961-04-15, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But dont let that discourage you.
Oh, you know, nothing is very encouraging, either!
0 1961-04-18, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Anyway, in this state the feeling of uncertainty completely disappears (he explains it very well).
We think its BECAUSE we do such and such a thing that something else happens. (And how frequently, too!) People are constantly saying and writing: do this and that will happen. But the fact that this person speaks and the other one acts is also absolutely decreed.
--
I have had this experience, and I remember it even went on for several days; I saw all material circumstances as an absolutean absolute that we perceive as an unfolding, but which is an eternally existing absolute. I had this experience, and at the same time I had a very clear perception of what falsehood is the lie; what, from the psychological, the mental point of view, Sri Aurobindo, translating from the Sanskrit, called crookedness.3 We attribute the course of circumstances to our psychological reactionsand indeed, they are used momentarily because everything collaborates either consciously or unconsciously to make things be what they have to be but things could be what they have to be without the intervention of this falsehood. I lived in that consciousness for several days, and it became apparent that this was what separated falsehood from truth. In this state of knowledge-consciousness, the distinction can be made between falsehood and truth; and when seen in that truth-consciousness, material circumstances change character.
Now I no longer have the experience of that state except as a memory, so I cant formulate it accurately. But what was very clear and comes very oftenvery oftenis the perception of a superimposition of falsehood over a real fact. This brings us back to what I was telling you some time ago,4 that everything is very simple in its truth, that human consciousness is what complicates everything. But the former was an even more total experience of it.
--
No! Thats exactly our falsehood! What we see is not THE THING; its a reflection, a distorted image in our consciousness. The thing itself exists outside this reflection, and in that existence it doesnt have the character we attri bute to it. Once we have grasped this, we understand that we can get out of itotherwise, we could never get out!
There is a universal unfolding, the true unfolding, that of the Supreme Lord who watches (this is the best way to put it) his own unfoldment. But for some reason or other, there has been a deformation of consciousness which makes us see this unfolding as something separate, a more or less adequate expression of the Divine Will. But it isnt so! It is the very unfolding of the Divine within Himselfwithin Himself, from Himself, for Himself. And its simply our falsehood that makes a separate thing of it The very fact of objectifying (what WE call objectification) is already a falsehood.5
--
Yet for a time I was in contact with all these gods and all these things, and they had an entirely concrete reality for me; but now I read and I understand, but I cannot live it. And I dont know why. It still hasnt triggered the experience. You see, experience for me the constant, total and permanent Experienceis that there is nothing other than the Supremeonly the Supreme that the Supreme alone exists. So when they speak of Agni or Varuna or Indra it doesnt strike a chord. However, what the Vedas succeed in doing very well is to give you the perception of your infirmity and ineptitude, of the dismal state we are in now; it succeeds wonderfully in doing that!
Yesterday, this ardor of the Flame was thereburning all to offer all. It was absolutely concrete, an intensity of vibrations; I could see the vibrationsall the movements of obscurity and ignorance were cast into that. And I recall a time when I was translating these hymns to Agni with Sri Aurobindo, and Agni was real for me. Well, yesterday it wasnt that, it wasnt the god Agni, it was a STATE OF BEING. It was a state of the Supreme, and as such, it was intimate, clear, intense, vibrant and living.
--
And I see a very steady, insistent and regular action to eliminate moral values. How I have been plagued all my life by these moral values! Everything is immediately placed on a scale of moral values (not ordinary moralityfar from it! But a sense of what has to be encouraged or discouraged, what helps me towards progress or what hampers it); instantly everything was seen from the angle of this will to progresseverything, all circumstances, reactions, movements, absolutely everything was translated by that. Now, the subconscient is mounting upwards and, knee-deep in it, you see it as a lesson to tell you: so much for all your notions of progress! They are all based on illusionsa general lie. Things are not at all what they seem, they dont have the effects they appear to have, nor the results that are perceivedall, all, all, oh Lord!
(silence)
--
And this aspiration depends neither on the state of health nor. Its absolutely independent of all circumstances I have felt this aspiration in the cells of my body at the very moment when things were at their most disorganized, when, from an ordinary medical standpoint, the illness was serious. The cells THEMSELVES aspire. And this aspiration has to be everywhere.
When one is in this state, there is no need to worrynothing else matters (Mother bursts into laughter).
--
The Rishis distinguished between the 'straight' (almost in the optical sense: that which allows the ray to pass straight through) and the twisted or crooked consciousness.
Agenda I of December 31, 1960.
--
Once again, Mother's experience coincides with modern science, which is beginning to discover that time and space are not fixed and INDEPENDENT quantitiesas, from the Greeks right up to Newton, we had been accustomed to believe but a four-dimensional system, with three coordinates of space and one of time, DEPENDENT UPON THE PHYSICAL PHENOMENA DEVELOPING THEREIN. Such is 'Riemann's Space,' used by Einstein in his General Theory of Relativity. Thus, a trajectoryi.e., in principle, a fixed distance, a quantity of space to be traversed-is a function of the time taken to traverse it: there is no straight line between two points, or rather the I straight' line is a function of the rate of speed. There is no 'fixed' quantity of space, but rather rates of speed which determine their own space (or their own measure of space). Space-time is thus no longer a fixed quantity, but, according to science, the PRODUCT ... of what? Of a certain rate of unfolding? But what is unfolding? A rocket, a train, muscles?... Or a certain brain which has generated increasingly perfected instruments adapted to its own mode of being, like a flying fish flying farther and farther (and faster and faster) but finally failing back into its own oceanic fishbowl. Yet what would this space-time be for another kind of fishbowl, another kind of consciousness: a supramental consciousness, for example, which can be instantaneously at any point in 'space'there is no more space! And no more time. There is no more 'trajectory': the trajectory is within itself. The fishbowl is shattered, and the whole evolutionary succession of little fishbowls as well. Thus, as Mother tells it, space and time are a 'PRODUCT Of the movement of consciousness.' A variable space-time, which not only changes according to our mechanical equipment, but according to the consciousness utilizing the equipment, and which ultimately utilizes only itself; consciousness, at the end of the evolutionary curve, has become its own equipment and the sole mechanism of the universe.
***
0 1961-04-25, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But these people just cant get out of their education! Here is a lady [A. Bailey], quite renowned, it seems (shes dead now), who became the disciple of a Tibetan lama and she still speaks of Christ as the sole Avatar! She just cant get out of it!
And each one has the absolute Truth!
--
Im going to make a declaration: I am not the leader of a group, I am not at the head of an Ashram. Oh! Its disgusting.
And thats not all. This J.M., who thinks herself highly intelligent, has written a letter saying, It is exactly the same teachingexactly. Its always exactly the same teaching! They are abysmally ignorant.
--
Yes. They have no discrimination. As long as the words are there, thats itits enough!
And what an atmosphere it all makes phew!
The first thing I did this morning was to open this book by Alice Bailey (Ive had it for several days, I had to have a look at it). So I looked Ah, I saidwell, well! Heres a person whos dead now, but she was the disciple of a Tibetan Buddhist lama and considered a very great spiritual leader, and she writes, Christ is the incarnation of divine love on earth. And thats that. And the world will be transformed when Christ is reborn, when he comes back to earth. But why the devil does she put Christ? Because she was born Christian? Its deplorable.
And such a mixture of everythingeverything! Instead of making a synthesis, they make a pot-pourri. They scoop it all up, toss it together, whip it up a little, use a bunch of words that have nothing to do with one another, and then serve it to you!
--
After this, I received the draft of the Sri Aurobindo Societys brochure to be distributed among all disciples, all society members, in order to encourage them. Well, that was the last straw! Oh, the most asinine propaganda! And plump in the middle of a bunch of other things (which had nothing to do with me), I come across this: We have the great fortune to have the Mother among us, and we propose to be the intermediary for all who wish to come into direct contact with her! They wanted to print this and distribute it, just like that! So I took my brightest red ink and wrote: I do not accept this responsibility, you cannot make this promise. And that was that. I cut it. And now heres A., doing the same thing!
(silence)
--
Already, with all the people here. (But I never told them they were my disciples, I told them they were my children and with children, to begin with, theres no need to do everything they want!) I already waste all my time answering their letters, which are worse than stupid. What questions they askquestions already answered at least fifty timessimply for the pleasure of writing! So now Ive stopped answering. I write one or two words, and thats it.
No, its disgusting!
(Satprem.) Theres this passage on propaganda by Sri Aurobindo I sent to the World Union people. It should really be published everywhere. Do you remember it? I dont believe in propaganda.3
--
But then, they [the S.A.S. people] began posing as almost as teachers! Luckily, the draft of their brochure was brought to me. I said, Nothing doing. If you want to talk to people, tell them what you like, its all the same to me, but I am not publishing this. What you have written about me is not to be printed and you are not to distribute it. Im not in the picture. My name, the fact that I am president, is simply to give my guarantee that the money wont go into the pockets of those who collect it but will be used for the Ashram, the running of the Ashram, and thats all. And on this basis alone I give my guarantee. I am in no way going to help people imagine they are doing a yoga! Its absurd.
The other day, I told N. (and I told him loud enough for everyone to hear): We can dispense with a good half of the ashramites straight-away and not lose a single sadhak.4
Well, his jaw dropped! People imagine that by the simple fact of being here they become disciples and apprentice yogis! But its not true.
So, now Im not angry any more!
--
No, for the least little thing, the whole mechanism has to be discovered, and discovered in a realm of the most total ignorance, where, really, unconsciousness is the most unconscious and ignorance the most ignorant.
(silence)
--
Now a kind of absoluteness prevails at each and every second, in each movement, from the most subtle, the most spiritual, to the most material. The sense of linking has disappeared: that isnt the cause of this, and this isnt done for that; there is no there one is heading towardsit all seems.
(silence)
--
But what can be translated is this kind of sensation that the sequence of cause and effect, of purpose, of goal, all seems to be very far below, very, very disTANT, very humanperhaps divine, too (from the viewpoint of the gods it may be like this also, I dont know), because in the consciousness of the universal Mother it is still there, there is still this ardent love to serve: To do Your Will. That is still there, so its there with the gods also.
(silence)
--
It came last night. It came slowly, but last night it was very strong: no more sequence, no more linking of cause and effect, no more goal, no more purpose, no more intentiona kind of Absolute which does not exclude the creation. It is not Nirvana, it has nothing to do with Nirvana (I know Nirvana very well, Ive had itjust yesterday evening, for instance, while walking for japa, and even this morning. You see, I begin by an invocation to the Supreme under his three aspects, and no sooner have I uttered the sound, TAT when all is abolished: Nirvana. And the last few days I have noticed that its instantaneous, so easy! Oh, a delight! Bah!). But its not Nirvana, its beyond that; it contains Nirvana and it contains the manifested world and it contains everything else; all the appearances and disappearances13all of that is contained in it.
Something.
0 1961-04-29, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
All this is based on the old idea that whatever the imagewhich we disdainfully call an idolwhatever the external form of the deity may be, the presence of the thing represented is always there. And there is always someonewhe ther priest or initiate, sadhu or sannyasisomeone who has the power and (usually this is the priests work) who draws the Force and the Presence down into it. And its true, its quite real the Force and the Presence are THERE; and this (not the form in wood or stone or metal) is what is worshipped: this Presence.
Europeans dont have the inner sense at all. To them, everything is like this (gesture), a surfacenot even that, a film on the surface. And they cant feel anything behind. But its an absolutely real fact that the Presence is there I guarantee it. People have given me statuettes of various gods, little things in metal, wood or ivory; and as soon as I take one in my hand, the god is there. I have a Ganesh2 (I have been given several) and if I take it in my hand and look at it for a moment, hes there. I have a little one by my bedside where I work, eat, and meditate. And then there is a Narayana3 which comes from the Himalayas, from Badrinath. I use them both as paperweights for my handkerchiefs! (My handkerchiefs are kept on a little table next to my bed, and I keep Ganapati and Narayana on top of them.) And no one touches them but me I pick them up, take a fresh handkerchief, and put them back again. Once I blended some nail polish myself, and before applying it, I put some on Ganapatis forehead and stomach and fingertips! We are on the best of terms, very friendly. So to me, you see, all this is very true.
--
I remember once going into a church (which I wont name) and I found it a very beautiful place. It wasnt a feast or ceremony day, so it was empty. There were just one or two people at prayer. I went in and sat down in a little chapel off to the side. Someone was praying there, someone who must have been in distressshe was crying and praying. And there was a statue, I no longer know of whom: Christ or the Virgin or a Saint I have no idea. And, oh! Suddenly, in place of the statue, I saw an enormous spider like a tarantula, you know, but (gesture) huge! It covered the entire wall of the chapel and was just waiting there to swallow all the vital force of the people who came. It was heart-rending. I said to myself, Oh, these people There was this miserable woman who had come seeking solace, who was praying there, weeping, hoping to find solace; and instead of reaching a consciousness that was at least compassionate, her supplications were feeding this monster!
I have seen other things but I have rarely seen anything favorable in churches. Here, I remember going to M I was taken inside and received there in quite an unusual waya highly respected person introduced me as a great saint! They led me up to the main altar where people are not usually allowed to go, and what did I see there! An asura (oh, not a very high-ranking one, more like a rakshasa4), but such a monster! Hideous. So I went wham! (gesture of giving a blow) I thought something was going to happen. But this being left the altar and came over to try to intimidate me; of course, he saw it was useless, so he offered to make an alliance: If you just keep quiet and dont do anything, I will share all I get with you. Well, I sent him packing! The head of this Math5. It was a Math with a monastery and temple, which means a substantial fortune; the head of the Math has it all at his disposal for as long as he holds the position and he is appointed for life. But he has to name his successor and as a rule, his own life is considerably shortened by the successorthis is how it works. Everyone knew that the present head had considerably shortened the life of his predecessor. And what a creature! As asuric as the god he worshipped! I saw some poor fellows throw themselves at his feet (he must have been squeezing them pitilessly), to beg forgiveness and mercyan absolutely ruthless man. But he received meyou should have seen it! I said nothing, not a word about their god; I gave no sign that I knew anything. But I thought to myself, So thats how it is!
Another thing happened to me in a fishing village near A., on the seashore, where there is a temple dedicated to Kalia terrible Kali. I dont know what happened to her, but she had been buried with only her head sticking out! A fantastic story I knew nothing about it at all. I was going by car from A. to this temple and halfway there a black form, in great agitation, came rushing towards me, asking for my help: Ill give you everything I haveall my power, all the peoples worshipif you help me to become omnipotent! Of course, I answered her as she deserved! I later asked who this was, and they told me that some sort of misfortune had befallen her and she had been buried with only her head above ground. And every year this fishing village has a festival and slaughters thousands of chickensshe likes chicken! Thousands of chickens. They pluck them on the spot (the whole place gets covered with feathers), and then, after offering the blood and making the sacrifice, the people, naturally, eat them all up. The day I came this had taken place that very morningfea thers littered everywhere! It was disgusting. And she was asking for my help!
But the curious thing is that these vital beings are aware of what is happening. I knew nothing about any of it, neither the story, nor the being, nor the head sticking out of the ground and she wanted me to get her out of it. They feel the atmosphere. They are awarethey may not be conscious on higher planes, but they are conscious on vital planes, aware of vital power and the vital force it represents. Its like this asura from M.: when I came in he suddenly seemed to tremble on his pedestal; then he left his idol and came to seek my alliance.
--
One of my most terrible experiences took place in Venice (the cathedrals there are so beautifulmagnificent!). I remember I was painting they had let me settle down in a corner to paintand nearby there was a (what do they call it?) a confessional. And a poor woman was kneeling there in distresswith such a dreadful sense of sin! So piteous! She wept and wept. Then I saw the priest coming, oh, like a monster, a hard-hearted monster! He went inside; he was like an iron bar. And there was this poor woman sobbing, sobbing; and the voice of the other one, hard, curt. I could barely contain myself.
I dont know why, but I have had this kind of experience so very often: either a hostile force lurking behind and swallowing up everything, or else manruthless man abusing the Power.
--
I have had discussionsnot discussions, exchanges of viewswith prelates. There was one cardinal in particular. I told him my experience, what I KNEW. He replied, Whether you want to or not, you belong to the Church; because those who know belong to the Church. And he added, You have the knowledge we are taught when we become cardinals. Nobody has taught me anything, I said, this is my experience. Then he repeated, Whether you like it or not, you belong to the Church. I felt like telling him a thing or two, but I didnt.
Otherwise, you just keep turning in circles, oh, caught by the form, locked in by the form!
0 1961-05-02, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And I dont see, I really do not see why all that needs to manifest in order to disappear. Because before, when it didnt manifest, it faded away by itself; but now it creates problems and problems and problems. (For me they are not problems but stupidities; they are problems and complications for others.) And its so useless! So much time is lost, so much time coping with stupid reactions. I dont know why.
And nothing can be done until its over.
0 1961-05-12, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The notebook of a disciple who asks questions on the Aphorisms which Mother 'must' answer regularly.
***
0 1961-05-19, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Every word, mon petit! Every word and the POSITION of the word in the sentenceeven the position of an adverb has a fundamental importance for the meaning. All the finesse, all the profound wisdom evaporates in translation, and finally we express only platitudes by comparisonplatitudes. They are not platitudes compared to ordinary intellect, but they are platitudes compared to the kind of keen PRECISION with which Sri Aurobindo discerns things.
And the trouble is that if one translates literally, into poor French, it doesnt yield the deeper sense either, because that also considerably demolishes the meaning.
--
Finally, what we want is (long silence) its something like an absolute in the presence, the action, the consciousness, which annuls this (here Mother makes a gesture whichperhapsexpresses a distance, a separation, or an exchange between two distinct things). It can hardly be called a duality any more, but all the same there is something which sees and which feels. And thats what is irritating.
I do sense that all, all in me is reaching for ONE thing: You, You alone, let there be only You One cannot say I(there is always a misunderstanding with that idiotic I), but it isnt You, it isnt I it is one single thing. Let THAT be, and nothing else.
--
Sometimes there are amusing thingsif I were to note down all I see! There are things things which dont appear as they are in ordinary life, but as they ARE when seen with a slightly more clairvoyant eyeits rather amusing. But it amounts to nothing-a sort of distraction.
And all the time the body says. You know, its marvelous-all the time, whenever I grumble or grouse, it says, But its for Me, its Me, its Me, its for Me like that. Dont forget, its for Me, its Me, its Me bringing in the people, its Me organizing, its Me making them ask things, it is Me.Very well. So I tweak my ears or pull my hair and say to myself, How stupid!
--
The movement of initiating the action always proceeds in the same wayas something imperatively SEEN. Consequently, it should ALWAYS have an effect; but all kinds of things enter and cause a disturbance. So I dont call that Powerits too haphazard. But dont worry yourself over all this chatter.
Oh, listen!
--
This refers to the Ashram dispensary, managed by Dr. Nripendra.
The physical mind.
0 1961-06-06, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Take absolutely identical circumstances: the same outer circumstances, the same inner circumstances the psychological condition is the same; circumstances of life, the same; events, the same; people, no appreciable difference. Identical circumstances, a few hoursnot even a dayapart. And in one case, the body that is, the cellular consciousness feels a sort of eurhythmy and general harmony, everything dovetails in such a marvelous way, without rubbing, without frictioneverything functions and organizes itself in a total harmony. Its a peace and a joy (without the vital intensity, of courseits something physical). All, all is so harmonious and truly you feel a sense of the divine organization of everything, of all the cellsall is marvelous and the body feels well. Then in the other case everything is the same, the consciousness is the same and something escapes the perception of harmony is no longer there. For what reason? One doesnt understand anymore. And then the body begins to function wrongly. Yet everything is absolutely identicalmental conditions, vital conditions, physical conditions, all identical and suddenly it all seems meaningless. One still has the consciousness, the full consciousness of the divine Presence, and one senses somewhere something escaping, and all becomes its like running after something that escapes. Things become meaningless. In absolutely identical conditionseven the movements of the body (functional movements, I mean) may be identical, but they are felt to be disharmonious (these words are much too crude, its more subtle than that), meaningless, disharmonious. And what escapes? You cant make it out.
What is it?
--
And its so subtle, so incomprehensible theres a distinct impression of it TOTALLY eluding even the highest conscious will. What is it? What is it?
If we found that, perhaps we would have it all the total Secret.
--
But its quite a disgusting job.
All yoga, all the yogas, mon petit, are amusements. Oh, all the disciplines are joys. But its not THAT.
Its a nasty job.
0 1961-06-20, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
It was a large globe. Although no distinct rays could be seen, it appeared to be projecting innumerable rays like flashes of lightning. It was sparkling all over.
What does it mean?
--
And to a certain extent it has a healing power (to a certain extent). But its not that supramental thing Sri Aurobindo had: he would pass his hand like this (gesture), and the disorder would be gone completely!
I have never seen anyone but Sri Aurobindo do that.
0 1961-06-24, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
There is a boy here, V., who is especially interested in what happens at the moment of death (this seems to be one reason why he has reincarnated). Hes a conscious boy, a remarkable clairvoyant, and he has a power. And we have had (how to put it?) some quite interesting correlations of experiences concerning people who pass away here. Extremely interesting and extraordinarily precise: he sends word to me, I reply, and at night when the disincarnated person comes he says, Mother has done this and says to do that, and the person does it. And we dont need to speaksuch precision!
This happens in sleep?
--
I will give you a concrete example, then youll understand. When I.B. was killed, I had to gather up all his states of being and activities, which had been dispersed by the violence of the accident2it was terrible, he was in a dreadful state of dispersion. For two or two and a half days the doctors fought in the hope of reviving him, but it was impossible. During those two days I gathered up all his consciousness, all of it; I collected it over his body, to the point where, when it had come and formed itself there, such vitality, such life was coming back into his body that after some hours the doctors believed he would be saved. But it couldnt last (it wasnt possiblea part of the brain had come out). Well, when not only his soul but his mental being, his vital being, and all the rest had been properly collected and organized over his body and had realized that the body had become quite unusable, it was overthey gave up the body and it was over.
I was keeping I.B. near me because I already had the idea of putting him immediately back into another bodyhis soul was not satisfied, it had not finished its experience (there was a whole combination of circumstances) and it wanted to continue to live on earth. Then, that night, his inner being went to find V., lamenting, saying he was dead and hadnt wanted to die, that he had lost his body and wanted to continue to live. V. was very perplexed. He let me know about it in the morning: Heres what has happened. I sent word to him of what I was doing, that I was keeping I.B. in my atmosphere and that he should stay very calm and not get excited, for I was going to put him back into a body as soon as possible I already had something in view. The same evening I.B. again went to find V., with the same complaint. V. told him very clearly, Here is what Mother says, here is what she is going to do; come now, be calm and dont torment yourself. And he saw in I.B.s face that he had understood (the inner being was taking on I.B.s physical appearance, naturally); his face relaxed, he became content.
--
There have been very, very few cases, a quite minimal number, when people have called (not very sincerely) and their call hasnt had much effect. But even these people have a protection. There was a woman here, an old woman who was not very sincere (she didnt live hereshe only came to visit) and the last time she visited she fell ill and died. Then I saw that she was completely dispersed into all her desires, all her memories, all her attachments and it had all been scattered here and there, into all sorts of things (one part of her was seeking, seeking where to go and what to do); anyway, it was rather pitiful. Afterwards I was asked, How did it happen? She was calling all the time. I replied that I had not heard her callit must not have been very sincere, only a formula.4
But its very rare that people get no response.
--
I only knew about this vision later, but on my side, when he left, I saw his whole being gathered together, well united, thoroughly homogenous, in a great aspiration, and rising, rising without dispersing, without deviating, straight up to the frontier of what Sri Aurobindo has called the higher hemisphere, there where Sri Aurobindo in his supramental action presides over earth. And he melted into that light.
Some time before his heart attack he said to his children: the gown is old, it must be thrown away.
--
This is all Xs work. The most unexpected people, people youd think would rather be cursed than come to a place like this, are coming from everywhere, from the most diverse milieus the most materialistic materialists, fanatical communists, as well as all sorts of sannyasis, bhikkus, swamis, priestsoh! People who previously were not at all they werent so much disinterested as actually displeased with the Ashram.
We have a disciple here who returns to his birthplace from time to time, and after the first year X began to do his puja to get people interested in the Ashram, he said it was extraordinary. He had previously been looked at askance and had to argue with people, but now everyone came to call on him as soon as he arrived! He wrote that he was completely astonished (he wasnt aware of Xs work); hundreds of people came to ask him to hold huge meetings; sadhus, monks and priests came to him for information on the Ashram. Things have developed so rapidly and completely that they now have some land where they have built a center and hold meetings.
And its like that almost everywhere.
--
And these last few days, especially yesterday and this morning, oh! Extraordinary discoveries! We are on the right track.
Thats all, mon petitnow Im off to see the priest. What a face hes going to make!
--
Among Mother's papers we have found the following, which indicates that a state of dispersion after death is rather frequent (it concerns a disciple's mother who did not herself live at the Ashram): 'She has left her body without being at all prepared for the change of condition and has found herself disoriented and rather dispersed. She will need some time to recover from this dispersion before anything useful can be done for her.'
May 17, 1959.
0 1961-06-27, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Aphorism 62I heard a fool discoursing utter folly and wondered what God meant by it; then I considered and saw a distorted mask of truth and wisdom.
Is there really no such thing as utter stupidity or absolute falsehood? Is there always a truth behind?
--
Its like asking if certain elements will disappear from the universe. What can it mean, the destruction of a universe? Once we are out of our stupidity, what can we call destruction? Only the form is destroyed, the appearance (that, yesall appearances are destroyed, one after the other). It is also said (its written everywhere) that the adverse forces will either be converted that is, become aware of their own divinity and become divineor be destroyed. But what does destroyed mean? Their form? Their form of consciousness can be dissolved, but what about the something which brings itand everything elseinto existence? How can that something be destroyed? This, mon petit, is difficult to comprehend. The universe is a conscious objectification of That which exists from all eternity. Well, how can the All cease to be? The infinite and eternal All, without limits of any kindhow can anything be thrown out of it? There is nowhere to go! (You can rack your brains over it, you know!) Go where? There is only THAT.
And even when we say there is only that we are situating it somewherewhich is perfectly idiotic. It is everywhereso how can anything be thrown out of it?
--
Therefore, to speak of an absolute falsehood disappearing would simply mean that a whole set of things will live eternally in the past but not belong to the coming manifestations, thats all.
You cant get out of THAT, can you? There you are!
--
We are told that when you ascend both beyond Nirvana or Nothingness and beyond Existence (the two SIMULTANEOUS and complementary aspects of the Supreme), there is a state of consciousness where all simultaneously and eternally exists. Thusalthough God knows, it may be yet another stupiditywe can conceive of a whole set of things passing into Non-Being, and for our consciousness this would be disappearance or destruction.
Is it possible? I dont know. We would have to ask the Lord! But He generally doesnt answer such questionsHe just smiles!
0 1961-07-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Unless one is ABSOLUTELY indifferent, truly one cannot last. This is quite clear. That is the way it must be (gesture of a becalmed sea). For suddenly you find yourself in a state which feels like it could last forevernothing matters, it goes on and on and on (Mother stretches out her arms, as if floating on a vast, infinite sea) like this, forever. I have been in this state very often, and you truly feel that. But the experience must not be in the head (that can be easily had); it has to be HERE (Mother slaps her knees), here in the body. When the body catches on to this, nothing is either disagreeable or agreeable to itit takes no pleasure, feels no disgust, no uneasiness, no anything. Its in a state, ah! (same gesture of a becalmed sea)
Its very interesting.
--
68The sense of sin was necessary in order that man might become disgusted with his own imperfections. It was Gods corrective for egoism. But mans egoism meets Gods device by being very dully alive to its own sins and very keenly alive to the sins of others.
(Mother laughs) Marvelous!
In any case, there it isasking that kind of question is still taking the attitude of those who make a distinction between what is Divine and what is not Divine, or rather what is God and what is not God. How can He be weak? Its a question I could never ask.
I quite understand. But when one speaks of the Lila, the divine play, it implies that He in some way remains in the background and doesnt really get into the act, as they say that Hes no really part of the game, but simply watches.
--
Its like the word purityone could lecture endlessly on the difference between divine purity and what people call purity. Divine purity (at the lowest level) is to admit but one influence the divine Influence (but this is at the lowest level, and already terribly distorted). Divine purity means that only the Divine existsnothing else. It is perfectly pureonly the Divine exists, nothing other than He.
And so on.
0 1961-07-15, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Actually, it springs from everything in material consciousness that can still be touched by the adverse forces; that is, not exactly the body-consciousness itself but, one could say, material substance as it has been organized by the mind the initial mentalization of matter, the first stirrings of mind in life making the passage from animal to human. (The same complications would probably exist in animals, but as there is no question of trying to supramentalize animals, all goes well for them.) Well, something in there protests, and naturally this protest creates disorder. These past few days I have been seeing. No one has ever followed this path! Sri Aurobindo was the first, and he left without telling us what he was doing. I am literally hewing a path through a virgin forestits worse than a virgin forest.
For the past two days there has been the feeling of not knowing anythingNOTHING at all. I have had this feeling for a very long time, but now it has become extremely acute, as it always does at times of crisis, at times when things are on the verge of changingor of getting clarified, or of exploding, or. From the purely material standpointchemically, biologically, medically, therapeutically speaking I dont believe many people do know (there may be some). But it doesnt seem very clear to mein any case, I dont know. Yogically (I dont mean spiritually: that was the first stage of my sadhana), its very easy to be a saint! Oh, even to be a sage is very easy. I feel I was born with itits spontaneous and natural for me, and so simple! You know all that has to be done, and doing it is as easy as knowing it. Its nothing. But this transformation of Matter! What has to be done? How is it to be done? What is the path?
--
To be in a condition in which all is the Supreme, all is wonderful, all is marvelous, all is marvelous love, all is all is profound Joyan unchanging, immutable, ever-present condition. To live in That, and then to have this bodily substance contradict it through every possible stupiditylosing sight, losing strength, pains here, pains there, disorders, weaknesses, incapacities of every type. And at the SAME TIME, the response within this body, no matter what happens to it, is, O Lord, Your Grace is infinite. The contradiction is VERY disconcerting.
From experience, I know perfectly well that when one is satisfied with being a saint or a sage and constantly maintains the right attitude, all goes well the body doesnt get sick, and even if there are attacks it recovers very easily; all goes very well AS LONG AS THERE IS NOT THIS WILL TO TRANSFORM. All the difficulties arise in protest against the will to transform; while if one says, Very well, its all right, let things be as they are, I dont care, I am perfectly happy, in a blissful state, then the body begins to feel content!
--
After my interview with Nature, when she told me that she would collaborate,2 I thought this difficulty would cease; many things have improved considerably (ONE part of Nature is collaborating), but not this. Plainly and clearly, it comes from the subconscient and the inconscient (wherever there is consciousness, all is well); its rising up all the time, all the time, and withoh, disgusting persistence!
And then of course its accompanied by all the usual suggestions (but thats nothing, it comes from a domain which is easily controlled). Suggestions of this type: Well, but Sri Aurobindo himself didnt do it! (I know why he didnt. but people in general dont know.) And every adverse vibration naturally takes advantage of this: How do you expect to succeed where he didnt! But my answer is always the same: When the Lord says its all over with, I will know its all over with; that will be the end of it, and so what! This stops them short.
--
Some months ago, when this body had once again become a battlefield and was confronting all the obstacles, when it was suspended, asking itself whether it wasnt wondering intellectually, but asking for a kind of perception, wanting to touch something: it wondered which direction it was taking, which way things were going to tilt. And suddenly, in all the cells, there was this feeling (and I know where it came from): If we are dissolved out of this amalgam, if this assemblage is dissolved and can no longer go on, then we shall all go straight, straight as an arrow and it was like a marvelous flamestraight to rejoin Sri Aurobindo in his supramental world, which is right here at our door. And there was such joy! Such enthusiasm, such joy flooded all the cells! They didnt care at all whether or not they would be dissociated. Oh, they felt, so what!
This was truly a decisive stage in the work of illuminating the body.
All the cells felt far more powerful than that stupid force trying to dissolve them; what is called death, left them entirely indifferent: What do we care? We shall go THERE and consciously participate in Sri Aurobindos work, in the transformation of the world, one way or the otherhere, there, like this, like thatwhat does it matter!
This came more than a year ago, I think. It has never left. Never. All anxiety and all conscious tension have gone.
0 1961-07-18, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
In line with this idea of things in their place, another question comes to me: with the descent of the Supermind, what exactly are the very first things that the supramental force will want to or is trying to dislodge?
The first things it will dislodge?
Yes, individually and cosmically, so that everything is in its place.
Will it dislodge anything? If we accept Sri Aurobindos idea, it will put each thing in its place, thats all.
One thing must inevitably cease: the Deformation, the veil of falsehood covering Truth, because all we see existing here is due to that. If the veil is removed, things will necessarily be completely different, completely: they will be as we experience them when we emerge individually from that deformed consciousness. When one comes out of that consciousness and enters the Truth-Consciousness, one is incredulous that such things as suffering, misery and death can exist; its amazing, in the sense that (when one is truly on the other side) one doesnt understand how all this can be happening. And, although this state of consciousness is habitually associated with the experience of the unreality of the world as we know it, Sri Aurobindo tells us that this perception of the worlds unreality need not exist for the supramental consciousness: only Falsehood is unreal , not the world. And this is most interesting the world has its own reality, independent of Falsehood.
--
What would it be like, for instance, to have a small supramental creation as a nucleus of action and influence radiating upon earth (to limit it to the earth)? Is it possible? Its easy to conceive of a superhuman nucleusa creation of supermen, that is, of men who by virtue of evolution and transformation (in the true sense of the word) have succeeded in manifesting the supramental forces; yet since their origin is human, there is inevitably a contact; even if everything is transformed, even if their organs are transformed into centers of force, a sort of human coloration still remains. These are the beings who, according to tradition, will discover the secret of direct, supramental creation, bypassing the process of ordinary Nature. Then through them the true supramental beings will be born, who will necessarily have to live in a supramental world. But how would contact be made between these beings and the ordinary world? How to conceive of a transformation of nature sufficient to enable this supramental creation to take place on earth? I dont know.
Of course, we know that such a thing will require a considerable amount of time to be done, and it will probably go by stages, by degrees, with faculties appearing that at the moment we cant know or imagine, and which will change the conditions of the earththis is looking ahead a few thousand years.
--
(Mother is absorbed for a while, gazing into the distance)
I am constantly seeing images! Not images, living thingslike answers to questions. A magnificent peacock was taking shape (its the symbol of victory here in India) and its tail opened out, and on it a construction appeared, like this construction of an ideal place. Its a pity this subtle world cant be photographed! There ought to be photographic plates sensitive enough to do it. It has been tried. It would be interesting because it moves, its like a movie.
--
But its rather delicate, like a very, very delicate clockwork, like a precision machine, and the least little thing throws everything out of gear. When someone has a bad reaction, for instance, or a bad thought, or an agitated vibration, or an anxietyanything of this nature is enough to dissolve all the harmony. For me, its translated straight-away into a malaise in my body, a very particular type of malaise; then disorder sets in, and the ordinary routine returns. So again I have to gather up, as it were, the Presence of the Lord and begin to infuse it everywhere. Sometimes it goes quickly, sometimes it takes longer; when the disorganization is a little more radical, it takes a little longer.
This eye [hemorrhage], for instance, resulted from such a disorder, a very dark force that someone allowed to enter, not deliberately, not knowingly, but through weakness and ignorance, always mingled, of course, with desire and ego and all the rest. (Without desire and ego, such things would find no access but desire and ego are very widespread.) At any rate, that was plainly the cause and I sensed it immediately. Sometimes when it comes, it creeps up like this (Mother brings her hand to her throat), a black shadow strangling you. Yet inwardly nothing is affected at all, to such an extent that if I didnt pay attention to the purely external reaction, I wouldnt know anything had happened (its the great Play); but externally the indication is immediate: half an hour later I had this eye hemorrhage. I was struggling against a wholly undesirable intrusion, and I knew italthough from an outer point of view, the cause was insignificant. Its not always the events we consider serious or important that produce the most harmful effectsfar from it. Sometimes its an altogether INSIGNIFICANT intrusion of falsehood, for some quite insignificant reasonwhat is commonly labeled a stupidity. This stems from the fact that the adverse forces are always lying in wait, ready to rush in at the least sign of weakness.
The incomprehension generated by doubt (the kind of doubt that always results from an egoistic movement) is very dangerous. Very dangerous. Its not even necessary to be in a psychic consciousness even for an enlightened vital consciousness, it produces no effect; but HERE, in this material swarm.
--
A fresh disorder to be straightened out.
Actually, we are very lazy.
--
Note that modern astronomy is divided between the theory of endless phases of contraction-explosion-expansion, and the theory of a universe in infinite expansion starting with a 'Big Bang,' which seems quite as catastrophic, since the universe is then plunging at vertiginous speed into an increasingly cold, empty, and fatal infinity, like a bullet released from all restraints of gravity, until... until what? According to astronomers, an exact measurement of the quantity of matter in a cubic meter of the present universe (one atom for every 400 liters of space) should enable us to decide between these two theories and learn which way it will be best for us to die. If there is more than one atom per 400 liters of space, this quantity of matter will create sufficient gravitation to halt the present expansion of galaxies and induce a contraction, ending with an explosion within an infinitesimal space. If there is less than one atom per 400 liters of space, the quantity of matter and thus the gravitational effect will be insufficient to retain the galaxies within their invisible net, and everything will spin off endlesslyunless we discover, with Mother, a third position, that of a 'progressive equilibrium,' in which the quantity of matter in the universe proves in fact to be a quantity of consciousness, whose contraction or expansion will be regulated by the laws of consciousness.
When the veil of falsehood has gone: the supramental consciousness.
0 1961-07-28, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
All at once, as I gaze above me, I glimpse something roseate; I draw nearer and discern what appears to be a shrub, as large as a tree, held fast to a blue reef. The denizens of the waters glide to and fro, myriad and diverse. Now I find myself standing upon fine, shining sand. I gaze about me in wonder. There are mountains and valleys, fantastic forests, strange flowers that could as well be animals, and fish that might be flowersno separation, no gap is there between stationary beings and mobile. Colors everywhere, brilliant and shimmering, or subdued, but always harmonious and refined. I walk upon the golden sands and contemplate all this beauty bathed in a soft, pale blue radiance, tiny, luminous spheres of red, green and gold circulating through it.
How marvelous are the depths of the sea! Everywhere the presence of the One in whom all harmonies reside is felt!
--
Standing there between two iridescent pillars is a very tall figure; his face, framed in short blond curls, is that of a very young man; his eyes are sea-green; he is clad in a pale blue tunic, and like wings upon his shoulders are great, snow-white fins. Beholding me, he steps aside against a pillar to let me pass. Scarcely have I crossed the threshold when an exquisite melody strikes my ears. The waters are all iridescent here, the ground aglow with glossy pearls; the portico and the vault, hung gracefully with stalactites, are opaline; delectable perfumes hover everywhere; galleries, niches and alcoves open out on all sides; but directly ahead of me I perceive a great light and towards it I turn my steps. There are great rays of gold, silver, sapphire, emerald and ruby, radiating outward in all directions, born from a center too distant for me to discern; to this center I feel drawn by a powerful attraction.
Now I see that these rays emanate from a recumbent oval of white light encircled by a superb rainbow, and I sense that the one whom the light hides from my view is plunged into a profound repose. For long I remain at the outer edge of the rainbow, trying to pierce through the light and see the one who is sleeping encircled by such splendor. Unable to discern anything, I enter the rainbow, and thence into the white and shining oval. Here I see a marvelous being: stretched on what seems to be a mass of white eiderdown, his supple body, of incomparable beauty, is garbed in a long, white robe. His head rests on his folded arm, but of that I can see only his long hair, the hue of ripened wheat, flowing over his shoulders. A great and gentle emotion sweeps through me at this magnificent spectacle, and a deep reverence as well.
Has the sleeper sensed my presence? For now he awakens and rises in all his grace and beauty. He turns towards me and his eyes meet mine, mauve and luminous eyes with a gentle, an infinitely tender expression. Wordlessly he bids me a sublime welcome and my whole being joyously responds. Taking my hand, he leads me to the couch he has just left. I stretch out on this downy whiteness, and his harmonious visage bends over me; a sweet current of force enters wholly into me, invigorating, revitalizing each cell.
--
In Sri Aurobindo's terminology, the 'Overmind' represents the highest level of the mind, the world of the gods and origin of all the revelations and highest artistic creations the world that has ruled mental man till now. in his gradations of the worlds, Sri Aurobindo speaks of two hemispheres, the upper hemisphere and the lower. The Overmind is the line between these two hemispheres, 'This line is the intermediary overmind which, though luminous itself, keeps from us the full indivisible supramental Light, but in receiving it divides, distributes, breaks up into separated aspects, powers, multiplicities of all kinds.' In the words of the Upanishad, 'The face of the Truth is covered by a golden lid.'
Mother is referring to the book Satprem will write on Sri Aurobindo, which prompted the questions posed in this conversation.
0 1961-08-02, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
In fact, we are the first possible instruments for making the world progress. For example (this is one way of putting it), the transformation of the Inconscient into the Subconscient is probably far more rapid and complete now than it was before man appeared upon earth; man is one of the first transformative elements. Animals are obviously more conscious than plants, but WILLED (and thus more rapid) progress belongs to humanity. Likewise, what one hopes (more than hopes!), what one expects is that when the new supramental race comes upon earth, the work will go much more swiftly; and man will necessarily benefit from this. And since things will be done in true order instead of in mental disorder, animals and everything else will probably benefit from it also. In other words, the whole earth, taken as one entity, will progress more and more rapidly. The Inconscient (oh, all this comes to me in English, thats the difficulty!) is meant to go and necessarily the Subconscient will go too.
Broadly speaking, does this mean that physical Matter will become conscious?
--
Its quite obvious that the Inconscient, the Subconscient and the semi-conscient are accidental; they are not a permanent part of the creation, so are bound to disappear, to be transformed.
Years ago, when Sri Aurobindo and I descended together from plane to plane (or from mode of life to mode of life) and reached the Subconscient, we saw that it was no longer individual: it was terrestrial. The rest the mind, the vital and of course the bodyis individualized; but when you descend below this level, thats no longer the case. There is indeed something between the conscious life of the body and this subconscious terrestrial lifeelements are thrown out1 as a result of the action of individual consciousness upon the subconscious substance; this creates a kind of semiconsciousness, and that stays. For example, when people are told, You have pushed your difficulty down into the subconscient and it will resurface, this does not refer to the general Subconscient, but to something individualized out of the Subconscient through the action of individual consciousness and remaining down there until it resurfaces. The process is, so to speak, interminable, even the personal part of it.
Every night, you know, I continue to see more and more astounding things emerging from the Subconscient to be transformed. Its a kind of mixturenot clearly individualizedof all the things that have been more or less closely associated in life. For example, some people are intermingled there. One relives things almost as in a dream (although these are not dreams), one relives it all in a certain setting, within a certain set of symbolic, or at any rate expressive, circumstances. Just two days ago I had to deal with someone (I am actively at work there and I had to do something with him), and upon seeing this person, I asked myself, is he this one or that one? As I became less involved in the action and looked with a more objective consciousness, the witness-consciousness, I saw that it was simply a mixture of both personseverything is mixed in the Subconscient. Already when I lived in Japan there were four people I could never distinguish during my nighttime activitiesall four of them (and god knows they werent even acquainted!) were always intermingled because their subconscious reactions were identical.
In fact, this is what legitimizes the ego; because if we had never formed an ego, we would have lived all mixed up (laughing), now this person, now another! Oh, it was so comical, seeing this the other day! At first it was a bit bewildering, but when I looked closely, it became utterly amusing: two little people with no physical resemblance, yet of a similar typesmall and in short, a similarity. Its like the four men I used to see in Japan: there was an Englishman, a Frenchman, a Japanese and one more, each from a different country; well, at night they were all the same, as if viewed one through the other, all intermingledvery amusing!
--
Because when one loses his ego and finds this central being, Sri Aurobindo says that an individuality remainsit isnt a dissolutionone retains a personality.
Yes, a personality remains.
--
This is where the problem arises. Sri Aurobindo says its permanent, while all the ancient traditions say it disappears with the body.
A permanent individual self?
Otherwise there could be no permanent material life for this [individuality] is the very nature of materialization. Were it destined to disappear, then the phenomenon of physical dissolution would become permanent, and there would never be physical immortality; because, after exhausting a certain basically, a certain number of illusions or disorders or falsehoods, one would return to the Truth. But according to Sri Aurobindo, it isnt like that: this individualization, this individual personalization is the Truth, a real, au thentic divine phenomenon the only falsehood is the deformation of consciousness. Well, when we re discover the true consciousness of Unity that Unity which is both in and above the manifest and the non-manifest (above in that it contains both the manifest and non-manifest equally), well, this Truth includes material personalization, otherwise that2 could not exist.
But each individual has a different personality.
Yes perhaps not in the present state of disorder! But in principle.
Every conscious being?
--
A mode of being, yes, in a way, in its essencein its essence, because in the manifestation all this is destined to disappear. Yes, they are modes of beinglike those first four modes of being3 created at the first manifestation.
But in our case, would there be innumerable modes of being, each representing one particular aspect?
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Then why have those who had realizations in the past, who found the true Self, all said it meant the dissolution of the individual, that no personality remained?
Not all! only those who went off into Non-existence said this.
--
It was at that time that he decided to stop dealing with people and retire to his room. So he called everyone together for one last meeting. Before then, he used to go out on the verandah every day to meet and talk with all who came to see him (this is the origin of the famous Talks with Sri Aurobindo9Mother is about to say something severe, then reconsidersanyway) I was living in the inner rooms and seeing no one; he was going out onto the verandah, seeing everyone, receiving people, speaking, discussing I saw him only when he came back inside.
After a while, I too began having meditations with people. I had begun a sort of overmental creation, to make each god descend into a beingthere was an extraordinary upward curve! Well, I was in contact with these beings and I told Krishna (because I was always seeing him around Sri Aurobindo), This is all very fine, but what I want now is a creation on earthyou must incarnate. He said Yes. Then I saw him I saw him with my own eyes (inner eyes, of course), join himself to Sri Aurobindo.
--
From 1926, Sri Aurobindo officially introduced Mother to the disciples as the 'Mother'; previously he often called her 'Mirra.'
Evening Talks, noted by A.B. Purani.
Again, the dissolution of the physical ego.
***
0 1961-08-05, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
You didnt know? Tomorrow is Sunday, Im distributing saris and napkins.
So, mon petit, do you have any questions?
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First of all, in the Questions and Answers you speak of the reversal of consciousness. Is this synonymous with the psychic realization? Because in one Conversation you connect the two things: the reversal of consciousness and the discovery of the psychic being.
Its the result of this discovery. In fact, its the result of union with the psychic being.
Another detail. In several places, Sri Aurobindo speaks of the circumconscient or environmental consciousness through which we enter into contact with the external world. Is this the same as the subtle physical, the subtle envelope? What is this circumconscient?
--
Then comes what Theon called the nervous sub-level, which lies between this subtle physical and the vital. And it acts as a protection: if it is stable, harmonious and strong, it protects youit protects you even physicallyfrom contagious diseases, for instance, and even from accidents. I experienced it when I was living at Val-de-Grce. It was the year I resolved to attain union with the psychic being and I was concentrated on this from morning to night and night to morning. Every day I spent some time in the Luxembourg Gardens. They were right near the house, but to get there I had to go all the way down Rue du Val-de-Grce and cross Boulevard Saint Michel, where there were streetcars, automobiles, buses the whole circus. I would remain in my concentration the whole time, and once, while crossing the boulevard, I felt a shock about this far from my body [slightly more than arms length], so spontaneously I jumped backjust enough for the streetcar to pass by. I hadnt heard anything; I was totally absorbed, and without that warning I would surely have been run over; instead, I jumped back just in time, and the streetcar sped by. I understood then that this nervous sheath was something entirely concrete, because what I had felt was not an idea of danger but a shocka material SHOCK.
So its true that as long as this envelope is strong and undamaged, you are protected. But for instance, if you are over-tired or worried or flusteredanything that brings disorder into the atmosphere seems to make holes in this envelope, and all kinds of things can enter.
Perhaps this is what Sri Aurobindo is speaking of.
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Once when I was at Tlemcen with Theon (this happened twice, but Im not sure about the second time because I was alone), my body was in a cataleptic state and I was in conscious trance. It was a peculiar kind of catalepsy in the sense that my body could speak, though very slowly Theon had taught me how to do it. But this is because the life of the form always remains (this is what takes seven days to leave the body) and it can even be trained to make the body move the being is no longer there, but the life of the form can make the body move (in any case, utter words). However, this state is not without danger, the proof being that while I was working in trance, for some reason or other (which I no longer remember, but obviously due to some negligence on the part of Theon who was there to watch over me), the cord I dont know what to call itwent snap! The link was cut, malevolently,5 and when it was time and I wanted to return, I could no longer re-enter my body. But I was still able to warn him: The cord is cut. Then he used his power and knowledge to help me come back but it was no joke! It was very difficult.6 And this is when I had the experience of the two different states, because the part that had gone out was now without the bodys support the link was cut. Then I knew. Of course, I was in a special state; I was doing a fully conscious work with all the vital power, and I was in control not only of my surroundings but. You see, what happens is a kind of reversal of consciousness: you begin to belong to another world; you feel this quite distinctly. Theon instantly told me to concentrate (I was finding it all interestingMo ther laughs I was making experiments and getting ready to go wandering off, but he was terribly scared that I would die on him!). He begged me to concentrate, so I concentrated on my body.
When I re-entered, it hurt terribly, terriblyan excruciating pain, like plunging into a hell.
--
She was down on her knees before my brother. My mother scorned all religious sentiments as weakness and superstition and she absolutely denied the invisible. Its all brain disease, she would say! But she could say just as well, Oh, my Matteo is my God, he is my God. The devil knows why, but in Alexandria she gave him the Italian name Matteo! And she truly treated him like a god. She left him only when he married, because then she really couldnt continue to follow him around any longer.
But whats interesting, for instance, is that when her father died she knew it; she saw him. She thought it was a dreama stupid dream. But he came to let her know he was dead and she saw him. Its nothing, she said, a dream! (Mother laughs)
--
But one day when my brother had disobeyed him (Matteo must have been ten or eleven, and I perhaps nine or ten), I came into the dining room and saw my father sitting on a sofa with my brother across his knees; he had pulled down his trousers and was spanking him, I dont know what for. It wasnt a very serious spanking, but still. I came in, drew myself up to my full height and said, Papa, if you ever do that again, I am leaving this house! And with such authority, mon petit! He stopped and never did it again.
Some very funny stories!
--
We are not sure, finally, if this envelope and the circumconscient are one and the same thing, but this is how Sri Aurobindo speaks of it: 'The first thing one sees when one has broken the barrier is the vital-physical body. It is around the physical body and with the physical it forms as it were the "nervous envelope." The force of a disease has to break through it to reach the bodyexcept for the attacks on the most material parts. You can then feel the disease coming and also feel in the nervous envelope the part of the body which it is going to, or intending to, attack because what is in the nervous envelope has a material counterpart in the body. Thus it is the vital-physical which is first attacked and then the force takes the form of a disease in the system. I had myself the experience of fever all around the body.'
A.B. Purani, Evening Talks with Sri Aurobindo, Volume I, p. 232
--
Satprem remembers that a few years earlier Mother had told him about the circumstances of this incident: during her work in trance, Mother discovered the location of the 'mantra of life'the mantra that has the power to create life (and to withdraw it, as well). Theon, an incarnation of the Asura of Death, was of course quite interested and told Mother to repeat this mantra to him. Mother refused. Theon became violently angry and the link was cut (the link that connected Mother to her body). When he realized the catastrophe his anger had caused, Theon grew afraid (for he knew who Mother was) and he then, as Mother recounts, made use of all his power to help her re-enter her body. Later, Mother gave this mantra to Sri Aurobindo... who let it quietly sink into oblivion. For it is not through a mantra that the secret of life (or death) is to be mastered, but through knowledge of the true Powerin other words, ultimately, knowledge of the reality of Matter and the mechanism of death: it is the whole cellular yoga of Sri Aurobindo and Mother.
Tamas: inertia, obscurity.
0 1961-08-08, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And this is probably why there are things he cant make out in his contact with me, because he simply doesnt understand. For example, these physical disorders baffle him, they seem incompatible with my realization. As long as the question of transformation does not come into play, the realization I had was sufficient to establish a kind of very stable orderreaction against the transformative will is what causes these disorders. And this he does not understandto him something seems not to be functioning properly. He must feel a contradiction between certain things he perceives in my consciousness and my contact with the material world. This being this, he thinks, that ought to be like that; so why? He doesnt understand.1
X's astonishment raises an extremely important point, drawing the exact dividing line between all the traditional yogas and the new yoga of Sri Aurobindo and Mother. To a tantric, for example, it seems unthinkable that Mother, with a consciousness so powerful as to scoff at the laws of nature and comm and the elements (if she wishes), could be subjected to absurd head colds or an eye hemorrhage or even more serious disorders. For him, it is enough to simply lift a finger and emit a vibration which instantly muzzles the disorderyes, of course, but for Mother it is not a question of 'curing' a head cold by imposing a higher POWER on Matter, but of getting down to the cellular root and curing or transforming the source of the evil (which causes death as easily as head colds, for it is the same root of disorder). It is not a question of imposing oneself on Matter through a 'power,' but of transforming Matter. Such is the yoga of the cells.
***
0 1961-08-11, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
At any moment, if I just pay a little attention, its like that. And then the body has no more limitsmore and more, they seem to disappear.
And for the least little things, the least little things; and all taking place within the Supreme, with the ecstasy of His Presence. For the tiniest, tiniest little things: how the Force behaves when youre arranging objects, when youre moving something for everything, for food, for.
0 1961-08-18, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Yesterday I had an experience. It didnt last long, no more than an hour or an hour and a half, but it was interesting. Experiences always take place here for me now, on the completely material plane. Well, in action, in relation to the world and things (it was quite a general feeling, in any case terrestrialnot universal, terrestrial), there was no more center. From the standpoint of sensations and reactions, exchangesno more center. Everything was dispersed like that, everywhere. There was only ONE center, the highest Center (highest or deepest)the sole Center. All sensations, all contacts, all exchangeseverything was like that.
It was rather interesting in that I wasnt expecting it; it came suddenly when I was walking in my room in the evening the feeling not positively that the body no longer existed, since it kept walking, but that there was no more center. I cant put it any other waythere was no more center. There was only one Center. It was all, all the same thing, and from the absolutely material standpoint, the standpoint of sensationsmaterial sensations, exchanges, vibrationseverything. At one point it even became so strong that something laughed and said, Ah! So thats how to no longer exist!
It was very interesting. However, the experience could not last because after a while I wasnt alone anymore. Actually, it was dinner time. Not that I couldnt eat in that stateit makes no difference (I can eat very easily through others, for instance: it has happened quite frequently that someone else eats and I am satisfied; theres no need to put anything inside, its very convenient! These are experiments.) But this was it was the almost total annihilation of the center. It didnt last because of the people (four, as always) bringing in dinner, serving the plates, etc.their concentration weakened the experience: it faded. The feeling of Im eating returned a littlenot I! That notion disappeared a long time ago! Not my true Imy true I has been settled up above for a very long time, and it doesnt move from there. But this body is eating; this body which has been put at the disposal of the work is eating (it didnt come in so many words and sentences, but still!). In short, the experience faded with the sensation of eating and I was unable to know its effect.
But I would like to know the effect it must have on the bodys functioning. It would be interesting to know if the functioning becomes wholly harmonious or what? We will probably see. But the experience must last; it must last for at least one day, or even two or three then the result would be interesting to see.
--
No, if for some reason or other you need something, tell me Im not making a fixed rule, its simply so as not to disturb you in your work.
Besides, it goes without saying that I am there [with you] quite consciously and I am not alone!
0 1961-09-03, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(The beginning of this conversation has unfortunately disappeared. It dealt with the book that Satprem was writing on Sri Aurobindo, and he spoke to Mother of his dream of writing automatically, without even needing to think, letting the writing flow along by itself.)
You would like to carry thought into higher domains, beyond the province of thought itself! This is something practically impossible.
0 1961-09-10, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The night before last, around 3 in the morning, I was in a place where there were a lot of people from here (you were there), and I was trying to play some music, precisely in order to SAY something. There were three pianos there, which seemed to be interlocked into each other, so I leaned over sideways to get at one of the three and began playing on it. It was in a large hall with people seated at a distance, but you were just at my left alongside a young lady who was a symbol figure (that is, the vibration or impression I received from her and the relationship I had with her could be applied as well to four or five persons here: it was like relating to an amalgam something that is very interesting and often happens to me). Anyway, I was leaning over one of the keyboards and trying trying to work something out, to illustrate how this would translate into that. Finally I realized that playing half-standing, half-leaning was unnecessary acrobatics, because a grand piano was right there in front, so I sat down before it. Well, the most amusing part of it was that the keys (there were two keyboards) were all bluelike the marbled paper we are making now, all blue, and with every possible marbled effect. Black keys, white keys, high keys, low keys (all of them were the same width, quite wide, like this), all seemed to be coated but it wasnt paperwith this blue. Facing the piano I said to myself, Well now, this cant be played with physical eyesit has to be played FROM ABOVE.
While I was playing, I kept telling myself, But this is what Ive tried to do with music all my lifeplay on the blue keyboard!
0 1961-09-16, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
This morning when I was walking, the program of the day and the work ahead of me was so formidable that I felt it to be impossible. And yet simultaneously there was this immobile inner POSITION in me; as soon as I stop my movement of formation and action, it becomes like a dance of joy: all the cells vibrating (there is a sort of vivacity, and an extraordinary music), all the cells vibrant with the joy of the Presence the divine Presence. But when I see the outside world entering and attacking, well this joy doesnt exactly disappear, but it retreats. And the result is that I always feel like sitting down and keeping stillwhen I can do that it is marvelous. But of course, all the suggestions from outside come in: suggestions of helplessness and old age, of wear and tear, of diminishing power, all thatand I know positively that its false. But calm in the body is in dispensable. Well, for me also Sri Aurobindos answer is always the same: Be simple, be simple, very simple.
And I know what he means: to deny entry to regimenting, organizing, prescriptive, judgmental though the wants none of all that. What he calls being simple is a joyous spontaneity; in action, in expression, in movement, in lifebe simple, be simple, be simple. A joyous spontaneity. To re discover in evolution that condition he calls divine, which was a spontaneous and happy condition. He wants us to re discover that. And for days now he has been here telling me (and the same goes for your work): Be simple, be simple, be simple. And in his simplicity was a luminous joy.
--
Oh, mon petit, its disgraceful.
Yes.
Its disgraceful.
I dont know, I only get echoes from Sujata, I dont really know whats happening, but I get the impression that a lot of your time is being uselessly taken up.
0 1961-10-02, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I know that at a certain moment I was making the distinction between the two states, between the person the individual, personal beingturning towards the Lord, imploring Him to reveal His Will, and then this experience of becomingby extending oneself, by opening, by enlarging, by merging into the creationof BECOMING the Will of the Lord, the Supremes Will. No longer any need to implore Him, to know His Will and receive it like something foreign to youyou become that Will.
The experience was there at that moment, and it was eloquent enough.
--
The story began with an entirely concrete and material incident something very amusing; this is not the first time it has happened, but it was so concrete and so precise that it became interesting. Someone was complaining of being ill, quite a serious, psychological illness: periodic possession by a spirit of falsehood, recurring regularly every month, of more or less long duration. This person comes to see me, and the moment shes here theres an upwelling of that profound Compassion of Love, with a considerable, concentrated Power to drive away the possession; and all of this accompanied, even outwardly, by quite an affectionate gesture. This person leaves and within half an hour I receive a letter: Now I know: you hate me, you want me to be ill and you want me to die because I disgust you.
It was interesting because it was so concrete. I was conscious of my movement of compassion and love and of what it had become in the other persons consciousness!
--
This concentration on finding the mechanism sprang from the fact that there were disorders in the body which were vanishing and then reappearingpermanent cure seemed impossible. So I told myself, Somewhere, probably in the subconscient, something must be justifying their presence. Then, after concentrating and searching and concentrating some more, suddenly a memory rose up from the subconscient (a memory which is a kind of continued existence under a certain form), the memory of a particular set of movements and actions (not physical movements, but attitudes) that go back many years and had never attracted my attention. None of it had ever been included in the general clearing-out because, like so many other things, it all seemed to be due to normal, ongoing circumstances. But thats just where I saw (what to call it?) the hue, the taint of Falsehood. Its very subtle. These are very subtle things. But suddenly, oh! It caught hold of me and created a revolution in the whole being. All those vibrations were cast up and transformedan extraordinary thing. It stirred up much more commotion and revolution than I had ever expected. And ah! A relief. Something was clarified, bringing a brilliant, new comprehension, and then quite interesting physical results. Before this, I was really feeling rather poorly, extremely tired, with the impression of a decline into decrepituderelatively speaking! (It was in a very superficial part of the being, but it was enough to be disagreeable.) And all of itpfft! Gone in a single stroke.
And that very day, I had this experience with the possessed personit all came together. And then afterwards, a sort of mastery over the problem and the impression of a breakthroughan opening up of the WAY to change, which is this enlargement. First, the movement of generosity (not that shriveling movement, but its exact opposite the movement of expansion), and from there you go on to universality, and from universality to Totality.
--
Here is the exact text of Mother's message: Truth is supreme harmony and supreme delight. All disorder, all suffering is falsehood. Thus it can be said that illnesses are the falsehoods of the body, and consequently doctors are soldiers of the great and noble army fighting in the world for the conquest of Truth.
It took Satprem fourteen years to lose the habit of correcting.
0 1961-10-15, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Normally one would have said that my body was in trance; yet it could move, it could speaksince I did speak to you; but nevertheless, it was a peculiar feeling (which I still have somewhat), like having a head too large for my body. Its not painful or disagreeable, but Im not used to it.
After our meeting yesterday, as soon as I saw clearly and could objectify it, I immediately sent all this to you (I didnt write because I had no time, but I told it all to you), for I felt that, not knowing what had happened, you might have thought I wasnt listening, or I dont know what!
--
After speaking of the descent of the Supermind, he said that an INTERMEDIARY must be prepared between our present mental state (even the most elevated higher mind) and the supramental region, because if one entered directly into Gnosis, well, it would produce such an abrupt change that our physical constitutions would be unable to support itan intermediary is needed. The experiences Ive had make me absolutely convinced of it; twice the supramental world took veritable possession of me and both times it was as if the bodytruly the physical bodywas going to completely disintegrate, due to what you could almost call the opposition of the two conditions.
And yesterday again I clearly saw (Mother touches this mass in her head). My eyes are full of it my eyes are full, you know, and I see that as it works to settle itself in here, it produces this little vibrationa twinkling of vibrationswhich seems to be in dispensable for it to enter into this Matter.
--
I have a sort of vision in my head of parts of sentences, three or four words where the impression was what I told you: Not necessary. But it was a very minor thing. It was more an attitude, an attitude in the expression. But it wasnt disturbing.
I keep feeling that Sri Aurobindo wants the conclusion to be swift; and I myself (probably not with his power of comprehension) have a vision, a sort of feeling coming from a great height above, that the most important part of the book should be very abruptlike breaking through a door, flinging it wide-open, and emerging in a rush of light. Thats all. Now keep quiet and see what happens.
0 1961-10-30, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(The day before and at the beginning of this conversation, Satprem read aloud some passages of his manuscript relating to the Veda. Then Mother chose the photograph of Sri Aurobindo for the frontispiece. She speaks slowly, as though from a great distance, in a semi-trance.)
Thats how I first saw him, at the head of the staircase.
--
When he first read the Vedastranslated by Western Sanskritists or Indian pandits they appeared to Sri Aurobindo as an important document of [Indian] history, but seemed of scant value or importance for the history of thought or for a living spiritual experience.2 Fifteen years later, however, Sri Aurobindo would reread the Vedas in the original Sanskrit and find there a constant vein of the richest gold of thought and spiritual experience.3 Meanwhile, Sri Aurobindo had had certain psychological experiences of my own for which I had found no sufficient explanation either in European psychology or in the teachings of Yoga or of Vedanta, and which the mantras of the Veda illuminated with a clear and exact light.4 And it was through these experiences of his own that Sri Aurobindo came to discover, from within, the true meaning of the Vedas (and especially the most ancient of the four, the Rig-veda, which he studied with special care). What the Vedas brought him was no more than a confirmation of what he had received directly. But didnt the Rishis themselves speak of Secret words, clairvoyant wisdoms, that reveal their inner meaning to the seer (Rig-veda IV, 3.16)?
It is not surprising, therefore, that exegetes have seen the Vedas primarily as a collection of propitiatory rites centered around sacrificial fires and obscure incantations to Nature divinities (water, fire, dawn, the moon, the sun, etc.), for bringing rain and rich harvests to the tribes, male progeny, blessings upon their journeys or protection against the thieves of the sunas though these shepherds were barbarous enough to fear that one inauspicious day their sun might no longer rise, stolen away once and for all. Only here and there, in a few of the more modern hymns, was there the apparently inadvertent intrusion of a few luminous passages that might have justifiedjust barely the respect which the Upanishads, at the beginning of recorded history, accorded to the Veda. In Indian tradition, the Upanishads had become the real Veda, the Book of Knowledge, while the Veda, product of a still stammering humanity, was a Book of Worksacclaimed by everyone, to be sure, as the venerable Authority, but no longer listened to. With Sri Aurobindo we might ask why the Upanishads, whose depth of wisdom the whole world has acknowledged, could claim to take inspiration from the Veda if the latter contained no more than a tapestry of primitive rites; or how it happened that humanity could pass so abruptly from these so-called stammerings to the manifold richness of the Upanishadic Age; or how we in the West were able to evolve from the simplicity of Arcadian shepherds to the wisdom of Greek philosophers. We cannot assume that there was nothing between the early savage and Plato or the Upanishads.5
--
But we have not yet reached the heart of the Vedic secret. The birth of Agni, the soul (and so many men are still unborn) is merely the start of the voyage. This inner flame seeks, it is the seeker within us, for it is a spark of the great primordial Fire and will never be satisfied until it has recovered its solar totality, the lost sun of which the Veda incessantly speaks. Yet even when we have risen from plane to plane and the Flame has taken successive births in the triple world of our lower existence (the physical, vital and mental world), it will still remain unsatisfiedit wants to ascend, ascend further. And soon we reach a mental frontier where there seems to be nothing to grasp any longer, nor even to see, and nothing remains but to abolish everything and leap into the ecstasy of a great Light. At this point, we feel almost painfully the imprisoning carapace of matter all around us, preventing that apotheosis of the Flame; then we understand the cry, My kingdom is not of this world, and the insistence of Indias Vedantic sagesand perhaps the sages of all worlds and all religions that we must abandon this body to embrace the Eternal. Will our flame thus forever be truncated here below and our quest always end in disappointment? Shall we always have to choose one or the other, to renounce earth to gain heaven?
Yet beyond the lower triple world, the Rishis had discovered a certain fourth, touryam svid; they found the vast dwelling place, the solar world, Swar: I have arisen from earth to the mid-world [life], I have arisen from the mid-world to heaven [mind], from the level of the firmament of heaven I have gone to the Sun-world, the Light (Yajur-veda 17.67). And it is said, Mortals, they achieved immortality (Rig-veda I.110.4). What then was their secret? How did they pass from a heaven of mind to the great heaven without leaving the body, without, as it were, going off into ecstasies?
The secret lies in matter. Because Agni is imprisoned in matter and we ourselves are imprisoned there. It is said that Agni is without head or feet, that it conceals its two extremities: above, it disappears into the great heaven of the supraconscient (which the Rishis also called the great ocean), and below, it sinks into the formless ocean of the inconscient (which they also called the rock). We are truncated. But the Rishis were men of a solid realism, a true realism resting upon the Spirit; and since the summits of mind opened out upon a lacuna of lightecstatic, to be sure, but with no hold over the worldthey set upon the downward way.6 Thus begins the quest for the lost sun, the long pilgrimage of descent into the inconscient and the merciless fight against the dark forces, the thieves of the sun, the panis and vritras, pythons and giants, hidden in the dark lair with the whole cohort of usurpers: the dualizers, the confiners, the tearers, the COVERERS. But the divine worker, Agni, is helped by the gods, and in his quest he is led by the intuitive ray, Sarama, the heavenly hound with the subtle sense of smell who sets Agni on the track of the stolen herds (strange, shining herds). Now and again there comes the sudden glimmer of a fugitive dawn then all grows dim. One must advance step by step, digging, digging, fighting every inch of the way against the wolves whose savage fury increases the nearer one draws to their denAgni is a warrior. Agni grows through his difficulties, his flame burns more brilliantly with each blow from the Adversary; for, as the Rishis said, Night and Day both suckled the divine Child; they even said that Night and Day are the two sisters, Immortal, with a common lover [the sun] common they, though different their forms (I.113.2,3). These alternations of night and brightness accelerate until Day breaks at last and the herds of Dawn7 surge upward awakening someone who was dead (I.113.8). The infinite rock of the inconscient is shattered, the seeker uncovers the Sun dwelling in the darkness (III.39.5), the divine consciousness in the heart of Matter. In the very depths of Matter, that is to say, in the body, on earth, the Rishis found themselves cast up into Light that same Light which others sought on the heights, without their bodies and without the earth, in ecstasy. And this is what the Rishis would call the Great Passage. Without abandoning the earth they found the vast dwelling place, that dwelling place of the gods, Swar, the original Sun-world that Sri Aurobindo calls the Supramental World: Human beings [the Rishis emphasize that they are indeed men] slaying the Coverer have crossed beyond both earth and heaven [matter and mind] and made the wide world their dwelling place (I.36.8). They have entered the True, the Right, the Vast, Satyam, Ritam, Brihat, the unbroken light, the fearless light, where there is no longer suffering nor falsehood nor death: it is immortality, amritam.
***
0 1961-11-05, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I have done my best, all these years, to try to keep him at a distance. He has a powera terrible asuric power. Between you and me, I saw him like that from the start thats why I became involved with him. I never intended to marry him (his family affairs made it necessary), but when we met, I recognized him as an incarnation of the Lord of Falsehood that is his origin (what he called the Lord of Nations); and in fact, this being has directed the whole course of world events during the last few centuries. As for Theon, he was.
It was not by choice that I met all the four Asurasit was a decision of the Supreme. The first one, whom religions call Satan, the Asura of Consciousness, was converted and is still at work. The second [the Asura of Suffering] annulled himself in the Supreme. The third was the Lord of Death (that was Theon). And the fourth, the Master of the world, was the Lord of Falsehood; Richard was an emanation, a vibhuti,1 as they say in India, of this Asura.
--
The first issue began with The Wherefore of the Worlds (the English following the French), and in it Richard attributed the origin of the world to Desire. They were in perpetual disagreement on this subject, Richard saying, It is Desire, and Sri Aurobindo, The initial force of the Manifestation is Joy. Then Richard would say, God DESIRED to know Himself, and Sri Aurobindo, No, God had the Joy of knowing Himself. And it went on and on like that!
When Richard went to Japan, he sent his manuscripts to Sri Aurobindo, including The Wherefore of the Worlds and The Eternal Wisdom, and Sri Aurobindo continued to translate them into English.
--
Here in Pondicherry, those last days might have become tragic (but of course it was impossible). There was the great argument (for he was perfectly aware of who I was): But after all, he would tell me, since you are the eternal Mother, why have you chosen Aurobindo as Avatar? Choose me! You must choose meme! It was the Asura speaking through him. I would smile and not discuss it. Thats not how its done! I would tell him (laughing). Then one day he said, Ah, so you dont want to. (gesture to the throat) Well, if you dont choose me, then. He was a strong fellow with powerful hands. I kept quite calm and said inwardly, My Lord, my Lord. I called Sri Aurobindo and I saw him come, like that (gesture enveloping Mother and immobilizing everything). Then Richards hands loosened their grip.
There were marks on my neck.
--
About the discovery of the Supermind in the Veda and by Sri Aurobindo. There is something I dont quite grasp.
Because in the Veda its incomplete.
--
Theon knew something about it, and he called it the new world or the new creation on earth and the glorified body (I dont remember his exact terminology); but he knew of the Superminds existenceit had been revealed to him and he announced its coming. He said it would be reached THROUGH the discovery of the God within. And for him, as I told you the other day, this meant a greater densitywhich seems to be a correct experience. Well, on my side, I have made investigations and had innumerable visions concerning the earths history, and I spoke about it a good deal with Sri Aurobindo.
(silence)
--
Indian tradition makes a distinction between a direct 'incarnation' (avatar) and a simple 'emanation' (vibhuti) coming from the consciousness of a godor a devil.
Not a physical place. See conversation of November 7, p. 380.
--
According to Mother's wishes, the tape was erased up to this point. But years passed and circumstances changed, and when Satprem found the transcription of this conversation among his papers, he deemed it worthwhile to preserve the major portion of it for its historical interest. Mother's difficulties are always the difficulties of the 'Terrestrial Work'; and this particular Asura, who disturbed the earth in such a particular way, could hardly be passed over in silence.
See conversation of July 28, p. 279.
0 1961-11-07, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Well, one time I was there (Theon used to warn against going beyond this domain, because he said you wouldnt come back), but there I was, wanting to pass over to the other side, whenin a quite unexpected and astounding way I found myself in the presence of the principle, a principle of the human form. It didnt resemble man as we are used to seeing him, but it was an upright form, standing just on the border between the world of forms and the Formless, like a kind of standard.3 At that time nobody had ever spoken to me about it and Madame Theon had never seen itno one had ever seen or said anything. But I felt I was on the verge of discovering a secret.
Afterwards, when I met Sri Aurobindo and talked to him about it, he told me, It is surely the prototype of the supramental form. I saw it several times again, later on, and this proved to be true.
--
Then a strange thing happened. When we were in the Vital, my body suddenly became young again, as it had been when I was eighteen years old! There was a young man named Pearson, a disciple of Tagore, who had lived with me in Japan for four years; he returned to India, and when he came to see me in Pondicherry, he was stupefied.4 What has happened to you! he exclaimed. He hardly recognized me. During that same period (it didnt last very long, only a few months), I received some old photographs from France and Sri Aurobindo saw one of me at the age of eighteen. There! he said, Thats how you are now! I wore my hair differently, but otherwise I was eighteen all over again.
This lasted for a few months. Then we descended into the Physical and all the trouble began.5 But we didnt stay in the Physical, we descended into the Subconscient and from the Subconscient to the Inconscient. That was how we worked. And it was only when I descended into the Inconscient that I found the Divine Presence there, in the midst of Darkness.
0 1961-11-16a, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But worknot a stroke. Ah, yes, I am translating The Synthesis of Yoga and it seems much easier. I go slower, a certain tension has disappeared, and the meaning is far clearer than usual. In other words, Im interiorized there you have it.
But its deplorable from an external viewpoint! Unread letters are piling up; I dont reply to people, I forget everything I dont even try to remember. From an external point of view, Im pretty worthless.
0 1961-12-16, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Then Mother thought that this message might not be too comforting and she put it aside (after asking the opinion of two disciples). Finally she chose the text of the experience which is the subject of this conversation. But the coming year, 1962, would be marked by the first great turning-point in Mother's yoga and a rather calamitous ordeal for the body.
***
0 1961-12-20, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
You understand, none of my certitudesnone, without exceptionhave EVER come through the mind. The intellectual comprehension of each of these experiences came much later. Little by little, little by little, came the higher understanding of the intellectual consciousness, long after the experience (I dont mean philosophical knowledge thats nothing but scholarly mumbo-jumbo and leaves me cold). Since my earliest childhood, experiences have come like that: something massive takes hold of you and you dont need to believe or disbelieve, know or not knowbam! Theres nothing to say; you are facing a fact.
Once, during those last difficult years, Sri Aurobindo told me that this was precisely what gave me my advantage and why (how to put it?) there were greater possibilities that I would go right to the end.
0 1961-12-23, #Agenda Vol 02, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
There is something deeper. And within this deeper thing there was: quiet, quiet, quiet, we will wait; and the impression (but vague, distant and uncertain) of some attempt being made to introduce a very good possibility into the atmosphere. I never see on the purely physical plane, you know (its always on the subtle physical, the plane of possibilities thats more real to me; the purely physical generally eludes me, but I see the subtle physical clearly), and I was seeing I dont know, it was like something higher, from above, trying to make someone enter the field of possibilities, a brain that would suddenly be touched by the book and reverse the situation. I dont know who, I dont know what, I dont know how. Ah, you know that yellow rose I just gave you? Its fringed in pink. Well, what came was like a slender pink fringe winding through the atmosphere of this situation.
Its possibleall is possible!
I can see from the publishers letter that he has been touched much more than he thinks. His outer mentality may have responded the way it did, but something was vibrating within I felt it as soon as you read me his letter. And he is violently denying it of course! It would disturb him a good deal, so he defends himself violently; but this just might give him the idea of having others read itand it could touch someone. I dont know, I am giving you an explanation of what I saw, of the sensation it gave me: Wait, dont move. And then: You will be informed when it is necessary to act. So let the first of the year go by, and then we will see.
Well then. And you?
--
Because there comes a time when one perceives the entire universe in such a total and comprehensive way that, in truth, it is impossible to remove anything from it without disturbing everything. And going a couple of steps further, one knows for certain that things which shock us as contradictions of the Divine are simply things out of place. Each thing must be exactly in its place, and whats more, be supple enough, plastic enough, to admit into a harmonious, progressive organization all the new elements constantly being added to the manifest universe. The universe is in a perpetual movement of internal reorganization, and at the same time its growing: its becoming more and more complex, more and more complete, more and more integralindefinitely. And as the new elements manifest, the whole reorganization must be built on a new basis, and thus there isnt a second when ALL is not in perpetual movement. And when the movement is in accord with the divine order, its harmonious, so perfectly harmonious that its almost imperceptible. Now, if you descend from this consciousness towards a more external consciousness, you begin naturally to have a very precise feeling of what helps you attain the true consciousness and what bars the way or pulls you backwards or even fights against your progress. And so the perspective changes and you are obliged to say: this is divine or a help towards the Divine; and that goes against the Divine, its the Divines enemy. But this is a pragmatic standpoint, geared to action, to movement in material lifebecause you havent yet attained the consciousness surpassing all that; because you havent reached that inner perfection where you no longer have to fight, since you have gone beyond the field or the time or the utility of struggle. But before reaching that state in your consciousness and action, there is necessarily struggle; and if there is struggle, there is choice; and to choose, you need discrimination.
(Mother remains silent)
--
And in the experience there was no difference between my physical and my inner being (actually, its that way more and more for me); even physically, externally, there was a kind of love full of adoration, and so spontaneousnot even any sense of wonder! And there was such a formidable Power in it, formidable from the standpoint of the entire earth. It lasted one hour. After an hour, the experience slowly began to fade (it had to fade for purely practical reasons). But it left me so confident of a radical changenot a total change, for it wasnt permanent but so radical that even outwardly, way down below in me, something was saying, Ah, how will the meditations with X be now? I caught Myself not thinking, not myself: someone thought like that, somewhere way down below. This pulled me out of the experience and I wondered, Thats strange, whos thinking like that? It was one of the personalities4 (in terms of work, its the one that gives each action its proper place), someone way down below, spontaneously feeling: But thats going to change the meditations! What will they be like now? When I returned and began to look at things with the usual discernment, I told myself that perhaps there actually will be a change.
But truly, EVERYTHING was changed at that moment: something was achieved. It was the perception of Power the Power that comes from Love (what Love is to the Supreme Consciousness, which has nothing to do with what we usually mean by the word love). And it was it was simple! None of those complications resulting from thought, intellect, understandingall that was gone, all gone. A formidable Power! And it made me understand one thing, that the state I had been put in (by the Lord of Yoga, in fact) was for obtaining the particular power that comes through an identity with all material things, a power possessed by certain personsnot always yogis, certain mediums, for instance. I saw it with Madame Theon: she would will a thing to come to her instead of going to the thing herself; instead of going to get her sandals when she wanted them, she made the sandals come to her. She did this through a capacity to radiate her mattershe exercised a will over her matterher central will acted upon matter anywhere, since she WAS THERE. With her, then, I saw this power in a methodical, organized way, not as something accidental or spasmodic (as it is with mediums), but as an organization of Matter. And so I began to understand: With this comes the power to put each thing in its place! provided one is universal enough.
0 1962-01-09, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Its a sort of decentralization. You see, to form a body all the cells are concentrated by a kind of centripetal force that binds them together. Well, now its just the opposite! A kind of centrifugal force seems to be dispersing them. When it gets a bit too much I go out of my body; outwardly I seem to faint but I dont faint, I remain fully conscious. So obviously this creates a sort of bizarre disorganization.
And theres a strange thing about it, which so far I havent figured out: it always happens (it has already happened three times, and thats a lot for me) when X1 comes, the night before he arrives.
--
My elbow had ended up leaning on a little plastic tray I have there, where I keep pencils, ball-point pens, note pads and so forth. The body was leaning on this tray, evidently trying to get up, and the whole thing started cracking noisily under the weight. And in a diffuse but very clear consciousness I was saying to myself, But why? Whats all this ridiculous noise? And whats this heavy thing doing? What disorder. There shouldnt be such disorder. And it went on crack-crack-cracking. Then suddenly normal consciousness returnedto be exact, what returned was the normal RELATIONSHIP consciousness has with thingsand I said, Well, really! What a ridiculous situation! What is this elbow doing on that tray? It should realize its breaking it! And when things were all completely back to normal I told my body, What are you doing, you idiot! Come on, pick yourself up, get moving! Immediately, docile as a little child, it extricated itself, turned around, and stood up straightquite straight. I had scratched my knee, scratched my elbow, and taken three knocks on the head. Luckily there were no sharp edgesit was all hard enough, but no sharp edges. Anyway, in the end I was all right, no damage done.
No damage at all, but it was a bizarre sensation. So I tried to understand how it could have happened, how I could have so lost my sense of relation to things. For a long time my body had been telling me, Ive got to lie down, Ive got to lie down. And I would very sternly reply, You dont have time! (Laughing) So then this happened. Had I obeyed it and laid down, there would obviously have been no problem. But I was in my experience, going on with my experience, and at the same time I was getting ready to come downstairs. So I told my body, Its all right, its all right, youll lie down later. But it had its own way of lying down! (Laughing) It just stretched out right where it was. Actually it wasnt even stretched outit was all askew.
--
Its a difficult problem to resolve, because at no price do I want to stop the discipline (the tapasya,2 to be precise). I dont want to stop. And both things together are clearly too much for a stupid little bodystupid mainly because it lives in tension.
These past few days Ive had some interesting experiences from this standpoint. I had what is commonly called fever, but it wasnt feverit was a resurfacing from the subconscient of all the struggles, all the tensions this body has had for what will soon be eighty-three years. I went through a period in my life when the tension was tremendous, because it was psychological and vital as well as physical: a perpetual struggle against adverse forces; and during my stay in Japan, particularly oh, it was terrible! So at night, everything that had been part of that life in Japanpeople, things, movements, circumstancesall of it seemed to be surrounding my body in the form of vital3 vibrations, and to be taking the place of my present state, which had completely vanished. For hours during the night, the body was reliving all the terrible tensions it had during those four years in Japan. And I realized how much (because at the time you pay no attention; the consciousness is busy with something else and not concentrated on the body), how much the body resists and is tense. And just as I was realizing this, I had a communication with Sri Aurobindo: But youre keeping it up! he told me. Your body still has the habit of being tense. (Its much less now, of course; its quite different since the inner consciousness is in perfect peace, but the BODY keeps the habit of being tense.) For instance, in the short interval between the time I get up and the time I come down to the balcony,4 when I am getting ready (I have to get this body ready to come down) well, the body is tense about being ready in time. And thats why accidents happen at that moment. So the following morning I said, All right, no more tension, and I was exclusively concerned with keeping my body perfectly tranquil I was no later than usual! So its obviously just one of the bodys bad habits. Everything went off the same as usual, and since then things are better. But its a nasty habit.
--
67There is no sin in man, but a great deal of disease, ignorance and misapplication.
68The sense of sin was necessary in order that man might become disgusted with his own imperfections. It was Gods corrective for egoism. But mans egoism meets Gods device by being very dully alive to its own sins and very keenly alive to the sins of others.
69Sin and virtue are a game of resistance we play with God in His efforts to draw us towards perfection. The sense of virtue helps us to cherish our sins in secret.
--
After describing the ship and the disembarkation, you say:
The criterion or the judgment [for passing the tests] was based EXCLUSIVELY on the substance constituting the peoplewhe ther they belonged completely to the supramental world or not, whether they were made of this very special substance. The criterion adopted was neither moral nor psychological. It is likely that their bodily substance was the result of an inner law or an inner movement which, at that time, was not in question. At least it is quite clear that the values are different.
--
Tapasya: yogic discipline.
For Sri Aurobindo and Mother, the "vital" represents the regions or centers of consciousness below the mind, between the throat and the sex center, i.e. the whole region of emotions, feelings, passions, etc., which constitute the various expressions of Life-Energy.
Up to March 1962, Mother came out every morning on the first floor balcony. The disciples were assembled on the street below.
Mother frequently addressed Satprem as "mon petit" or "petit," terms of endearment she used for very few other people, which can be approximately rendered as "my little one" or "my child." Since no English phrase can capture the nuances of Mother's simple "petit" and "mon petit," we have decided to leave them in the original French wherever they occur.
--
Sadhana: spiritual discipline.
The soul or portion of the Supreme in man which evolves from life to life until it becomes a fully conscious being.
0 1962-01-12 - supramental ship, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And, over and above this, for the realization to be total, there are two other conditions, which arent easy either. Intellectually, theyre not too difficult; in fact, for someone who has practiced yoga, followed a discipline (I am not speaking here of just anyone), theyre relatively easy. Psychologically too, given this equality, theres no great difficulty. But as soon as you come to the material plane the physical plane and then to the body, it isnt easy. These two conditions are first, the power to expand, to widen almost indefinitely, enabling you to widen to the dimensions of the supramental consciousness which is total. The supramental consciousness is the consciousness of the Supreme in his totality. By totality, I mean the Supreme in his aspect of Manifestation. Naturally, from a higher point of view, from the viewpoint of the essence the essence of that which in Manifestation becomes the Supermindwhats necessary is a capacity for total identification with the Supreme, not only in his aspect of Manifestation, but in his static or nirvanic aspect, outside of the Manifestation: Nonbeing. But in addition, one must be capable of identifying with the Supreme in the Becoming. And that implies both these things: an expansion that is nothing less than indefinite, and that should simultaneously be a total plasticity enabling one to follow the Supreme in his Becoming. You dont merely have to be as vast as the universe at one point in time, but indefinitely in the Becoming. These are the two conditions. They must be potentially present.
Down to the vital, we are still in the realm of things that are more than feasible they are done. But on the material level it results in my misadventures of the other day.2
--
Not that the problem hasnt been partially solved: hatha yogis have solved it, partiallyprovided you do nothing else (thats the trouble). Yet having the knowledge, we should have the power to do whats necessary without making it our exclusive preoccupation. At any rate, this possibility is certainly not altogether unknown; for the first few months after I retired to my room,4 when I had cut all contact with the outside, it was working very well even extraordinarily so! Lots of disorders in my body were surmounted, and I had many fairly precise indications that if I continued like that long enough I would regain everything that had been lost, and with an even better equilibrium. I mean that the functional equilibrium was far superior. Only when I came back into contact with the world did it all come to a halt and begin to deteriorateall the more so as it was aggravated by this discipline of expansion making me constantlyCONSTANTLYabsorb mountains of difficulties to be resolved. And so.
With the mind, its rather easyyou can put things back in order in five minutes, its not difficult. With the vital its already a bit more troublesome, it takes a little longer. But when you come to the material level, well. Theres a CONTAGION of wrong cellular functioning and a kind of internal disorganizationthings not staying in their proper places. Each vibration absorbed from the outside instantly creates a disorder, dislocates everything, creates wrong contacts and disrupts the organization; it sometimes takes HOURS to put it all back in order. Consequently, if I really want to make use of this bodys possibility without having to face the necessity of changing it because it cant follow along, then, materially, I would really need, as much as possible, to stop having to gulp down all sorts of things that drag me years backwards.
Its difficult difficult.
--
This is an extremely delicate functioning, probably because were not used to it the slightest movement, the slightest mental vibration disrupts everything. But as long as it lasts, its perfectly pure. And in a supramentalized life this has to be the CONSTANT state. Mentalized will should no longer intervene; because you may well have a spiritual will, your life may be the constant expression of spiritual will (its what happens to all who feel themselves guided by the Divine within), but it still comes through a mental transcription. Well, as long as its that way, its not the supramental life. The supramental life NO LONGER goes through the mind the mind is an immobile zone of transmission. The least little twitch is enough to upset everything.
(silence)
--
For thought, its elementary, very simple. Its not difficult for the feelings either; for the heart, the emotional being, to expand to the dimensions of the Supreme is relatively easy. But this body! Its very difficult, very difficult to do without the body losing its center (how can I put it?) its center of coagulationwithout it dissolving into the surrounding mass. Although, if one were in a natural environment, with mountains and forests and rivers, with lots of space and lots of natural beauty, it could be rather pleasant! But its physically impossible to take a single step outside ones body without meeting unpleasant, painful things. At times you come in contact with a pleasant substance, something harmonious, warm, vibrating with a higher light; it happens. But its rare. Flowers, yes, sometimes flowers sometimes, not always. But this material world, oh! It batters you from all sides; it claws you, mauls youyou get clawed and scraped and battered by all sorts of things which which just dont blossom. How hard it all is! Oh, how closed human life is! How shriveled, hardened, without light, without warmth let alone joy.
While sometimes, when you see water flowing along, or a ray of sunlight in the treesoh, how it sings! The cells sing, they are happy.
--
Its something Sri Aurobindo and I have discussed ( discussed is one way of putting it), something we spoke about, and his view was the same as mine: there is a power, yes, to FIX the form here on earth, a power we dont have. Even people with the ability to materialize things (like Madame Thon, for instance) cant make their materializations last; it cant be done, they dont lastthey dont have the quality of physical things.
And without this quality, well the creations continuity could not be assured.
--
Mother later clarified the meaning of this sentence: "I saw that to follow the Supreme in the Becoming one has to be able to expand, because the universe expands in the Becoming the amount of expansion in the universe is not matched by an equal amount of dissolution. So it is really necessary to be able to grow, as a child grows, to expand; but at the same time, for things to progress, this process of expansion demands a constant inner reorganization. As the quantity is increased (if we can speak of quantity here), so must the quality be simultaneously maintained by an ongoing internal reorganization of intercellular relationships."
In December 1958.
0 1962-01-15, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And all the disbelief in the world cant contradict that piece of evidence.
The note itself was stolen from me while I was moving to a new house.
0 1962-01-21, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And there was the sudden vision of all the error, all the incomprehension, all the ignorance, all the darkness andeven worseall the ill will in the earths consciousness, which felt responsible for the prolongation of those adverse forces and beings and offered them up in a great it was more than an aspiration, it was a sort of holocaust, so that the adverse forces might disappear, might no longer have any reason to exist, no longer need to be there to point out all that has to change.
The adverse forces were necessitated by all these negations of the divine life. And this movement of earth consciousness towards the Supreme, the offering of all these things with such extraordinary intensity, was a kind of reparation so that those adverse forces might disappear.
The experience was very intense. It crystallized around a small nucleus of experiences too personal to mention (because I wasnt the only one involved), which translated into this: Take all my wrongdoings, take them all, accept them, obliterate them, and may those forces disappear.
Thats essentially what this aphorism says, seen from the other end. So long as a single human consciousness carries the possibility of feeling, acting, thinking or being in opposition to the great divine Becoming, it is impossible to blame anyone else for it; it is impossible to blame the adverse forces, which are kept in the creation as a means of making you see and feel how far you still have to go.
--
Up till now, this attitude was probably (not probablycertainly) necessary to prepare things. But now theres a sort of sudden reversal, as if the moment had come for the creative principle, the force, the universal creative Force to say, This too is Me. For it is time for it to disappear. This too is Me: I no longer treat it as an enemy to get rid of; I accept it as Myself, so that it truly does become Me.
And it was preceded by a kind of anguish: Will there always be something that, compared with the state to come, seems antidivine? No: after a long preparation, it becomes capable of feeling divine and thus of being divine.
--
The system of getting rid of things by anubhava [experience] can also be a dangerous one; for on this way one can easily become more entangled instead of arriving at freedom. This method has behind it two well-known psychological motives. One, the motive of purposeful exhaustion, is valid only in some cases, especially when some natural tendency has too strong a hold or too strong a drive in it to be got rid of by vicra [intellectual reflection] or by the process of rejection and the substitution of the true movement in its place; when that happens in excess, the sadhak has sometimes even to go back to the ordinary action of the ordinary life, get the true experience of it with a new mind and will behind and then return to the spiritual life with the obstacle eliminated or else ready for elimination. But this method of purposive indulgence is always dangerous, though sometimes inevitable. It succeeds only when there is a very strong will in the being towards realisation; for then indulgence brings a strong dissatisfaction and reaction, vairagya, and the will towards perfection can be carried down into the recalcitrant part of the nature.
The other motive for anubhava is of a more general applicability; for in order to reject anything from the being one has first to become conscious of it, to have the clear inner experience of its action and to discover its actual place in the workings of the nature. One can then work upon it to eliminate it, if it is an entirely wrong movement, or to transform it if it is only the degradation of a higher and true movement. It is this or something like it that is attempted crudely and improperly with a rudimentary and insufficient knowledge in the system of psycho-analysis. The process of raising up the lower movements into the full light of consciousness in order to know and deal with them is inevitable; for there can be no complete change without it. But it can truly succeed only when a higher light and force are sufficiently at work to overcome, sooner or later, the force of the tendency that is held up for change. Many, under the pretext of anubhava, not only raise up the adverse movement, but support it with their consent instead of rejecting it, find justifications for continuing or repeating it and so go on playing with it, indulging its return, eternising it; afterwards when they want to get rid of it, it has got such a hold that they find themselves helpless in its clutch and only a terrible struggle or an intervention of divine grace can liberate them.Some do this out of a vital twist or perversity, others out of sheer ignorance; but in yoga, as in life, ignorance is not accepted by Nature as a justifying excuse. This danger is there in all improper dealings with the ignorant parts of the nature; but none is more ignorant, more perilous, more unreasoning and obstinate in recurrence than the lower vital subconscious and its movements. To raise it up prematurely or improperly for anubhava is to risk suffusing the conscious parts also with its dark and dirty stuff and thus poisoning the whole vital and even the mental nature. Always therefore one should begin by a positive, not a negative experience, by bringing down something of the divine nature, calm, light, equanimity, purity, divine strength into the parts of the conscious being that have to be changed; only when that has been sufficiently done and there is a firm positive basis, is it safe to raise up the concealed subconscious adverse elements in order to destroy and eliminate them by the strength of the divine calm, light, force and knowledge. Even so, there will be enough of the lower stuff rising up of itself to give you as much of the anubhava as you will need for getting rid of the obstacles; but then they can be dealt with with much less danger and under a higher internal guidance.
***
I find it difficult to take these psycho-analysts at all seriously when they try to scrutinise spiritual experience by the flicker of their torch-lights,yet perhaps one ought to, for half-knowledge is a powerful thing and can be a great obstacle to the coming in front of the true Truth. This new psychology looks to me very much like children learning some summary and not very adequate alphabet, exulting in putting their a-b-c-d of the subconscient and the mysterious underground super-ego together and imagining that their first book of obscure beginnings (c-a-t cat, t-r-e-e tree) is the very heart of the real knowledge. They look from down up and explain the higher lights by the lower obscurities; but the foundation of these things is above and not below, upari budhna esam. The superconscient, not the subconscient, is the true foundation of things. The significance of the lotus is not to be found by analysing the secrets of the mud from which it grows here; its secret is to be found in the heavenly archetype of the lotus that blooms for ever in the Light above. The self-chosen field of these psychologists is besides poor, dark and limited; you must know the whole before you can know the part and the highest before you can truly understand the lowest. That is the promise of the greater psychology awaiting its hour before which these poor gropings will disappear and come to nothing.4
Questioned about the meaning of these words, Mother said, "The state I was in was like a memory."
0 1962-01-27, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Well, if you speak this way to philosophers and metaphysicians, theyll look at you as if to say, You must be a real simpleton to believe all that claptrap! But these things are not to be taken as concrete truths they are simply splendid images. Through them I really did come in contact, very concretely, with the truth of what caused the worlds distortion, much better than with all the Hindu stories, far more easily.
Buddhism and all similar lines of thought took the shortest path: The desire to exist is what has caused all the trouble. If the Lord had refrained from having this desire, there would have been no world! Its chil dish, very chil dish, really a much too human way of looking at the problem.
--
But there is one advantage: without those beings, without the worlds distortion, many things would be lacking. Those beings potentially embodied certain absolutely unique elementsunderstandably so, since they were the first wave. And precisely because they still WERE the Supreme to such a great extent, each one felt he was the Supreme, and that was that. Only it wasnt quite sufficient, for the simple reason that they were already divided into four, and one single division is enough to make everything go wrong. Its readily understandable: its not something essentially evil, but a question of wrong FUNCTIONING; its not the substance, not the essence. The essence isnt evil, but the functioning is faulty.
But if you understand.
0 1962-02-03, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I mean, if they themselves discover the experiences they had in their past life, then its part of a whole inner, psychic awakening, and very useful. But if some guru or other comes along and tells you, Here, this was your karma. I dont think its useful, to put it mildly!
If you discover the line of a former life on your own, thats different; its part of an inner, psychic awakening, and its very good. But I dont think its helpful when someone sees something and comes and tells you, You know, you have been this, you have done that. I feel it makes things worse instead of betterit puts you back in touch with things you were in the process of eliminating.
(silence)
--
He was a professor at Montpellier University and lived nearby. And there were several roads leading to his house. This man would leave the university and come to the crossing where all those roads branched out, all eventually leading to his house, one this way, one that way, one from this side. So he himself used to explain how every day he would stop there at the crossroads and deliberate, Which one shall I take? Each had its advantages and disadvantages. So all this would go through his head, the advantages and disadvantages and this and that, and he would waste half an hour choosing which road to take home!
He gave this as an example of thoughts inadequacy for action: if you begin to think, you cant act.
--
Then, action is no longer a choice subject to error, correction, discussion, but the clear vision of what must be done. And this vision is infallible.
(silence)
--
Thats what I have been studying these past two daysnot for you in particular, but the general effect of japa, the reason for it in the organization of ones life. I cant say I have made any discoveries (maybe for myself, I dont know); but my study is not on higher levels, its right here.
It would take too long to give the details; I can summarize, but I dont want to make a doctrine, and for it to be living its bound to be long.
0 1962-02-06, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
These past few days I have been reading Perseus1it was performed here, so I knew a little of it but it never much interested me. But reading it the way I read now, I have found it VERY interesting, I have discovered all kinds of things, all kinds.
Yes, I have noticed that in the space of (I dont remember when we performed it,2 you were already here) between then and now there is at least a good fifty years differencea fifty-year change in consciousness.
--
Because a day or two ago (I dont remember exactly, it was rather fleeting but very interesting), I went through such a moment while walking in my room (it lasted while I was out on the balcony, too): suddenly a kind of absolute certainty that I knew nothing (there was no I at all) that one knew nothing (one, there was no one, there was only); one couldnt know (I have to use words), one couldnt know, there was nothing to know, it was totally hopeless, it was completely IMPOSSIBLE to understand anything, even, even going beyond the mind, and no formulation was possible, there was no possibility of understanding. It was really so absolute that helping others, making the world progress, spiritual life, seeking the Divine, all of that seemed idle talk, empty words! There was nothing in it, it was nothing, and there was nothing to understand, it was impossible to understandit was impossible to BE. The feeling of a total incapacity. The experience was like a solventeverything seemed to dissolve: the world, the earth, people, life, intelligence, all of it, everything was dissolved. An absolutely negative state. And my solution was the same as always: when the experience was total and complete, when nothing was left, then: Who cares! (it could really be put in the most ordinary words), I adore You! And the I was something utterly insubstantial: there was no form, no being, no qualityonly I adore You. This I was I adore You, there was just enough I to adore You with.
From that moment on there was an inexpressible Sweetness, and within that Sweetness, a Voice so sweet and harmonious too! There was a sound but no wordsyet it held a perfectly clear meaning for me, like very precise words: You have just had your most creative moment!
--
In Sri Aurobindo's play, Andromeda, daughter of the King of Syria, is condemned by her own people to be devoured by Poseidon, the Sea-god, for some impiety she had committed against him. The story is actually about the passage of a half-primitive tribe, living in terror of the old dark and cruel gods, to a more evolved and sunlit stage. Perseus, son of Diana and Zeus, and protected by Pallas Athene, goddess of wisdom and intelligence, comes to deliver Andromeda from the rock she is chained to (the rock symbolizes the Inconscient for the Rishis), and founds the religion of Athene, "... the Omnipotent / Made from His being to lead and discipline / The immortal spirit of man, till it attain / To order and magnificent mastery / Of all his outward world" (in the words of Sri Aurobindo). It is the force of progress pitted against the old priests of the old religions, symbolized by the cruel and ambitious Polydaon. Here Mother is scrutinizing an old problem"Always the same problem"that she must have encountered in many existences (Egypt included) and would encounter again eleven years later: the acceptance of the death she is forced into as the Supreme's Will, and then this "love of Life" she twice mentions here.
***
0 1962-02-09, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Concerning a European disciple who praises the merits of a certain pseudo-spiritual book, which Mother calls "spiritual romanticism":)
Its very European theyre like that.
0 1962-02-13, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
At that time, I had the sense of a higher way of living: I used to make a distinction between different ways of life. Now this so-called higher way of living seems so miserable to meso petty, mean, narrow that I very often find myself in the same position as those who ask, But is there really something to it? And I understand them (even though I have a different will and vision of something to come that is not yet here), I understand the feeling of those who came into contact with spiritual life and asked, What good is itwhat good is it? Is there anything worth living in it? We are NECESSARILY hemmed in, bound to live in narrowness and pettiness simply to keep alive, for the sake of all the bodys needs.
It takes such an effort to bring Light into this poverty, to bring a Force, a Reality, a Power, something, good Lord, something TRUE! Through constant effort and will, constant tension, suddenly, ah! I get two or three seconds and then it all ebbs away again.
--
You see, its like trying to alter the functioning of the organs. What is the process? Already the two are beginning to exist simultaneously. What does it take for one to disappear and the other to remain on its own, changed? Changed, because as it is now it wouldnt be enough to make the body function; the body wouldnt perform all the things it must perform, it would stay in a blissful state, delighting in its condition, but not for longit still has a lot of needs! Thats the trouble. It will be very easy for those who come in one or two hundred years; they will only have to choose: not to belong to the old system any more or else to belong to the new.2 But now. A stomach has got to digest, after all! Well, that will mean a new way of adapting to the forces of Nature, a new functioning.
But for that to happen, some beings would have to prepare this new functioning.
Sometimes I wonder if its not sheer folly to attempt it. Shouldnt this body simply be left to dissolve and let others, better fit for the new functioning, be prepared? I dont know.
I dont know. No one has ever done this before, so theres no one to tell me.
--
But he doesnt want me to note it down. Its not simply that I dont have the time, he doesnt want me to. When I wake up (not wake up, when I come out of that state), there are no lapses of consciousness. This is something I have acquired through lifelong discipline I have no lapses. Things dont suddenly go away, poof! They remain very clear I go from one state to another with no impression of a gap. But I see his action: he replaces the precise memory of what has been said and done by a sort of atmosphere, a sensation that stays with me all day long.
Sometimes a particular image lingers, as a key to the atmosphere.
--
In fact, in the Agenda conversations of 1958 and '59 (never noted by Satprem because he believed them too "personal"), Mother mentioned this as one of the main reasons for encouraging his tantric discipline. He even set out for the Himalayas, like a knight of yore, with the idea of bringing back to Mother the secrets of transformation; and Mother indicated to him the spot where one of her former bodies lay in a Himalayan cave, petrified by a mineral spring. But the secret of the new species can manifestly not be found through any "trick" tantric or otherwiseone's very nature must change. No one could help Mother because if someone "knew," it would already be done.
Mother means that it wasn't possible for Sri Aurobindo to continue.
0 1962-02-24, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But is it necessary? Is all this disorganization necessary? Perhaps I call it disorganization when it isnt. You know, we are totally ignorant in that realm. We have our old human ways of seeing, but when it comes to the bodys functioning, we know nothing about whats good or not. Or even whats painful or not: the bodys initial impulse is to feel the pain, but upon reflection and attentive observation, we see it is simply an intensity of sensation were not used to. So it could well have been that. And if we were used to it (and especially if we didnt think of it as something troublesome), we would feel quite differently about it. In any case, its not something unbearablewe can bear a lot of things, much more than we imagine.
I am not sure, you see. We keep going on with old notions, old routines and old habitswhat can we possibly know!
--
There was also that attack (it was rather serious and threw the doctor into a fit of anxiety) which took place, I think, the day before sari distribution.6 The next morning, throughout the distribution, someone else seemed to have taken possession of my body and to be doing what had to be done, taking care of all the difficulties; I was comfortable, serene, simply like a carefree spectator. I had nothing to worry about, someone was. (What someone? Someone, something, I dont know, theres no more difference, its not delineated like that any more; but anyway, it was a being, a force, a consciousness perhaps a part of myself, I dont know; none of this is clear-cut; its quite precise, but not divided, very smoothMo ther makes a rounded gestureno breaks.) Something, then, a will or a force or a consciousness plainly a powerhad taken possession of the body and was doing all the work, looking after everything. I was witnessing everything, smiling. But its gone now. It came specifically for that work (I was in pretty bad shape); when the work was over, it dissolvedit didnt leave abruptly but it became inactive. Afterwards, I felt rather confident. Well in any case, I thought, something similar could happen on the 21st, since it just happened now.
The 19th was so-so, and on the 20th I was concentrated all day long: no contacts with anyone, nothing external, only an intense invocation as intense and concentrated as when youre trying to melt into the Lord at death. It was like that. The same movement of identification, but at its core a will for everything to work out in a good way here [on the material plane]. In a good way I mean I said to the Lord, YOUR Good, the true Good, not. The true Good, a victorious Good, a real progress over the way life is usually lived. And I stayed in this unwavering concentration the whole day, all the time, all the time: even when I spoke, it was something very external speaking. And then at night when I went to bed I felt something had changed the body felt completely different. When I got up in the morning, all the pains and disorders and dangers had vanished. Lord, I said, You have given me a gift of health.
And with this change, the bodily substance, the very stuff of the cells, was constantly being told, Dont you forget, now you see that miracles CAN happen. In other words, the way things work out in physical substance may not at all conform to the laws of Nature. Dont forget, now! It kept coming back like a refrain: Dont forget, now! This is how it is. And I saw how necessary this repetition was for the cells: they forget right away and try to find explanations (oh, how stupid can you be!). Its a sort of feeling (not at all an individual way of thinking), its Matters way of thinking. Matter is built like that, its part of its make-up. We call it thinking for lack of a better word, but its not thinking: it is a material way of understanding things, the way Matter is able to understand.
--
You can achieve excellent control of the heart. But I never practiced it violently, never strained myself. I think holding for 16 is too long. I used to do it simply like this: brea the in very slowly to the count of 4, then hold for 4 like this (I still have the knack of it!), lifting the diaphragm and lowering the head8 (Mother bends her neck), closing everything and exerting pressure (this is an almost instantaneous cure for hiccupsits handy!). Then while I held the air, I would make it circulate with the force (because it contained force, you see) and with the peace as well; and I would concentrate it wherever there was a physical disorder (a pain or something wrong somewhere). Its very effective. The way I did it was: inhale, hold, exhale and emptyyou are completely empty. Its very useful; very handy for underwater swimmers, for instance!
I had trouble breathing in slowly enough thats a bit hard. I began with 4 and eventually managed to do 12. I did 12-12-12-12. It took me months to reach that, it cant be done quickly. To brea the in very slowly and hold all that air isnt easy.
--
Mother used to say that when Sri Aurobindo cured somebody, one often saw a subtle hand come with a current of blue force and seize, as it were, the vibration of the illness or disorder between its fingertips.
On the afternoon of the 21st, Mother went to watch a performance given by the children.
--
On February 18, Mother distributed saris and handkerchiefs.
Pranayama: breathing exercises.
0 1962-02-27, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
When one is identified with the Supreme, there is a place where all is unequivocally known: in the past, in the present, in the future and everywhere. But when they return, those who go there usually forget what they have seen. A particularly strict discipline is needed to remember. Thats the only realm where you cant be mistaken.
But the links of communication are seldom all there, so one rarely remembers.
--
But as soon as you move into a subtler realm, like the vital (and the mental even more so), there is a narrow margin of possibilities. You can see the rough outlines of what is going to take place, but in the details it can be this way or that way: it is possible for certain wills or influences to interfere and create discrepancies.
This is so because the original Will is reflected, as it were, in different realms, and in each realm the organization and relation of the images are changed. The world we live in is a world of imagesnot THE thing itself in its essence, but its reflection. We could say that in our material existence we are merely a reflection, an image of what we are in our essential reality. And the modalities of these reflections are what introduce all the errors and all the falsifications (what is seen in its essence is perfectly true and pure, existing from all eternity, while images are essentially variable). And according to the amount of falsehood introduced into the vibrations, the amount of distortion and alteration increases. Each circumstance, each event and each thing can be said to have one pure existenceits true existence and a considerable number of impure or distorted existences in the various realms of being. There is a substantial beginning of distortion, for instance, in the intellectual realm (indeed, the mental realm holds a considerable amount of distortion), and it increases as all the emotional and censorial realms interfere. Arriving at the material plane, the vision is most often unrecognizable. Completely distorted. To such a point that its sometimes very hard to realize that this is the material expression of thattheres not much resemblance any longer!
This approach to the problem is rather new and can provide the key to many things.
--
So, according to the plane where you are conscious and can see, you perceive images and see events from varying distances and with varying degrees of accuracy. The only true and sure vision is the vision of the Divine Consciousness. The problem, therefore, is to become conscious of the Divine Consciousness and constantly maintain it in all lifes details.
Meanwhile, there are all sorts of ways to receive indications. That exact, precise and (whats the word?) habitual vision certain people have may stem from various sources. It may be a vision through identity with circumstances and things when you have learned to expand your consciousness. It may be an indication from some chatterbox of the invisible world, who has got it into his head to let you know whats going to happenthis is often the case. Then everything depends on your harbingers morals: if he is having fun at your expense, he spins stories for youthis almost always happens to those who receive their information from entities. To bait you, they may repeatedly tell you how things are going to turn out (for they have a universal vision in some vital or mental realm); then, when they are sure you trust them, they may start telling you fibs and, as they say in English, you make a fool of yourself. This happens frequently! You have to be in a higher consciousness than these fellows, these entities (or these minor gods, as some call them) and able to check from above the value of their statements.
--
Some people also have the faculty of predicting things already existing on earth but at a distance, far from physical eyestheyre generally those who have the capacity to expand and extend their consciousness. Their vision is slightly more subtle than physical vision, and depends on an organ subtler than its purely material counterpart (what could be called the life of this organ). So, by projecting their consciousness, and having the will to see, they can clearly see things that already exist but are beyond our ordinary field of vision. Those who have this capacitysincere people who tell what they see, not blufferssee with perfect precision and exactness.
Ultimately, absolute sincerity is the great deciding factor for those who predict or foresee. Unfortunately, because of peoples curiosity, their insistence and the pressure they exert (which very few can resist), an almost involuntary mechanism of inner imagination comes to add just that small missing element to something not seen with precision or exactness. Thats what causes flaws in prediction. Very few have the courage to say, Ah no, I dont know this, I dont see that, this eludes me. They dont even have the courage to say it to themselves! So then, with a tiny drop of imagination, which acts almost subconsciously, the vision or information gets rounded outit can turn out to be anything at all! Very few people can resist this tendency. I have known many, many psychics, many extraordinarily gifted beings, and only a handful were able to stop just at the point where their knowledge stopped. Or else they embellish. Thats what gives these faculties their slightly dubious quality. One would have to be a great saint, a great sage, and completely free from other peoples influences (I dont speak of those who seek fame: they fall into the most flagrant traps); because even goodwillwanting to satisfy people, please them, help themis enough to distort the vision.
(Smiling) Are you satisfied? Have I answered everything?
--
This type of thing has happened to me very, very oftenfour times with snakes. There was one incident here near the fishing village of Ariankuppam, a place where a river empties into the sea. Night had fallen swiftly, it was pitch dark, and I was walking along a road when right in the middle of a step (I had already lifted my foot and was about to lower it), I distinctly heard a voice in my ear: Watch out! Yet no one had spoken. So I looked, and just as my foot was about to touch the ground, I saw an enormous black cobra right where I was casually going to put my foot. Those fellows dont like that sort of thing! It slithered away and swam across the waterwhat a beauty, mon petit! Hood wide open, head held high, he swam across like a king. I would certainly have been punished for my impertinence!
I have had hundreds and hundreds of experiences like thatinformed just at the last moment (not one second too soon)and in very different circumstances. Once in Paris I was crossing the Boulevard Saint Michel (I had resolved to attain union with the psychic presence, the inner Divine, within a certain number of months, and these were the last weeks I was thinking of nothing but that, engrossed in that alone). I lived near the Luxembourg Gardens and was going there for a stroll, to sit in the gardens that eveningstill indrawn. I came to a kind of intersectionnot a very sensible place to cross when youre interiorized! So, in that state, I started to cross when all of a sudden I had a shock, as if something had hit me, and I instinctively jumped back. As I jumped back a streetcar rushed by. I had felt the streetcar at a little more than arms length. It had touched my aura, the protective aura (that aura was very strong at the time I was deep into occultism and knew how to maintain it). My protective aura was touched, and it literally threw me backwards, just like a physical shock. Accompanied by the drivers insults!
--
Oh, the method is quite easy! There are various disciplines. It depends on what you want to achieve.
It depends. Each thing has its method. But the primary method is to want it, to make a decision. Then you are given a description of all these senses and how they function thats a lengthy process. You choose one sense (or several), perhaps the one for which you have the greatest initial aptitude, and you decide. Then you follow the discipline. Its similar to doing exercises for developing muscles. You can even manage to create willpower in yourself.
For the subtler senses, the method is to create an exact image of what you want, make contact with the corresponding vibration and then concentrate and practice. For instance, you practice seeing through an object, or hearing through a sound2 or seeing at a distance. As an example, I was once bedridden for several months, which I found quite boring I wanted to see. I was staying in one room and beyond that room was another little room and after that a sort of bridge; in the middle of the garden the bridge changed into a stairway going down into a very spacious and beautiful studio built in the middle of the garden.3 I wanted to go see what was happening in the studio I was bored stiff in my room! So I stayed very still, shut my eyes and gradually, gradually sent out my consciousness. I did the exercise regularly, day after day, at a set hour. You begin with your imagination, and then it becomes a fact. After a while, I distinctly sensed my vision physically moving: I followed it and saw things going on downstairs I knew absolutely nothing about. I would verify it in the evening, asking, Did it happen like this? Was that how it was?
But each of these things must be practiced for months, patiently, almost stubbornly. You take the senses one after another: hearing, sight, and eventually even the subtle aspects of taste, smell and touch.
0 1962-03-06, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Just recently, as I told you, things truly became a little disgusting, dangerous, and for an hour or an hour and a half I did a sadhana like this (Mother clenches her fists), keeping hold of this body and body-consciousness. And the whole time the Force was at work there (it was like kneading a very resistant dough), something was saying to me, Look, you cant deny miracles any longer. It was being said to this consciousness (not to me, of course), this body-consciousness: Now you cant deny it miracles do happen. It was forced to see; there it was, gaping like an idiot being shown the skyAh! And its so stupid that it didnt even have any joy of discovery! But it was forced to see, the thing was right under its nosethere was no escaping it, it had to be admitted. But you know what, mon petit, as soon as I let up on the pressureforgotten!
I remember the whole experience, of course, but the body-consciousness forgot. The slightest difficulty, even the shadow or the recollection of a difficulty, was enough for it to start up all over again: Oh oh! Now whats going to happen? The same old anxieties and stupidities.
--
I am not saying this to discourage you, but to tell you that one must really and truly be patient. The only possible way to do it is in a sort of passivity: not to WANT the resultWANTING the result brings in an ego movement which spoils it all.
I have been telling you for a long time that we are VERY close for a long time.
--
What has become constant, though. I shouldnt say it, because its going to get me into trouble again! But anyway, whats trying to be constant is disCRIMINATION: taking all circumstances, vibrations, relationships, what comes from the people around me, what responds, and putting each in its proper place. A second-to-second discrimination. I know where things are coming from, why they come, their effect, where theyre going to lead me, and so on. Its growing more and more frequent, constant, automaticlike a state of being.
Thats about the only place where progress is really visible. I hope the fact of having spoken wont get me into trouble again!
0 1962-03-11, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
By neglecting to explain this aspect [in this Talk], I passed over a large part of the topic in silence. I usually dont speak of those things, or else mention them only in passingit terrifies people and they immediately start wondering, Oh, is it really a god? Is it this is it that? Could it be a devil in disguise? They panic.
Only its perfectly true that to deal with those realms one must either be fully protected by a guru, a real guru, a man with knowledge, or else have purity (not saintliness), an unmixed vital and mental purity. Very, very often, bhaktas [devotees] of Sri Aurobindo or mewhen they are sincere, truly sincere, that is, people of great spiritual purityhave dozens of beings appear to them, saying, I am Sri Aurobindo. It happens all the time, with all the right external appearancesits very easy for such beings to put on a disguise. It takes the inner psychic purity not to be deceivedyou invariably FEEL something that makes it impossible for you to be duped. But otherwise, many, many people are taken in.
I dont like to talk about this because people here have no discrimination; they would be left with nothing but fear and would no longer believe in anything, forever asking me, Oh, isnt this a trick? Which paralyzes everything. Thats why I didnt speak about that in this Talk.
You do say a couple of words about it.
--
No, I dont know if its wise to publish this Talk; if too incomplete, it looks like ignorant chatter. And I have always deliberately refused to say things in full since its so very disconcerting for people, very disconcerting.
But couldnt what you just said be added to the Talk?
I can tell you the result: a lot of people will lose all confidence in what they see. Then it becomes impossible to work with them. I cant even teach them to receive what I tell them in silence any more; they instantly start wondering, Oh, is it Mother or a spirit of falsehood? They really have no sense of discrimination, you see, they dont KNOW! So if they have to come every time, wondering Was it you or was it? And when theyre in that state they dont listen properly. Theres a whole range of work I cant do any more, because they lack the necessary discrimination. So I normally dont say anything.
I really prefer to say nothing.
In fact, practically speaking, thats why these things used to be kept secret: one should get knowledge ONLY when its accompanied by discrimination enabling one to distinguish the origin of what is seen or received. One without the other makes for a dangerous weapon.
Some people have even been driven insane, through their own constant fearout of fear they refused all protection. I tell you, only those with a great devotion and a great love are not deceiveda great devotion gives you an immediate sense of things; when your devotion goes like this (shrinking gesture), you know what it means. But your devotion must be sincere and very strong; its the only protection.
--
That teaching should really be given under the seal of secrecy, and given along with the necessary power and discrimination for going through the experiences without danger. And that means the gurus constant personal care and attention.
Certain stages of your development even require the gurus physical presence: you must no longer go into trance unless he is there, sitting beside you. Out of the question! Cant you just imagine me saddled with loads of people! Its impossible; I couldnt even do the job properly. No, its impossible, it would simply mean exposing a lot of people to permanent danger and I dont want to.
--
Then it becomes inanitiesits too incomplete. Id rather not attract peoples attention to these topics too much. There must be other things to publish. Since you cant give the full picture, it becomes sheer inanity. If you wanted to be perfectly complete, you could write volumes (its a tremendous world of experiences!). And saying just a thing or two makes you look like one of those ninnies who have a few experiences and think theyve discovered the world!
Bhikku: Buddhist monk.
0 1962-03-13, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I fully agree! But you said (at least I thought you did) that you would systematically file this Agenda away, that it would never even be at the disposal of those interested in the Work.
No, not that. I said two things. One, if I make it through to the end, I may even let it be shown to the public, for the living proof will be there: You dont need to scoffjust see where it leadsHERE! And if the Lord decides its not for this time, well, then I will give it to those who have loved me, who have lived with me, worked with me, endeavored with me, and who respect what was attempted. It will be my parting gift if I go. And I dont intend to.
--
I like the form of your expression very, very much. It contains something deep, very supple and polished at the same timelike a lovely, finely chiseled statue. There is profound inspiration and a rhythm, a harmony, which I like very much. I really enjoyed reading your first book2the kind of enjoyment that comes from discovering beautiful forms, an original way of looking at things and expressing them. I appreciated it tremendously. Immediately, spontaneously, I ranked you as a true writer.
There you have it. I didnt think it was necessary to keep telling you all these things. But its true.
0 1962-04-03, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Just between eleven and twelve [last night] I had an experience by which I discovered that there is a group of peoplepurposely their identity was not revealed to mewanting to create a kind of religion based on the revelation of Sri Aurobindo. But they have taken only the side of power and force, a certain kind of knowledge and all which could be utilized by Asuric forces. There is a big Asuric being that has succeeded in taking the appearance of Sri Aurobindo. It is only an appearance. This appearance of Sri Aurobindo has declared to me that the work I am doing is not his. It has declared that I have been a traitor to him and to his work and has refused to have anything to do with me.
There is in that group a man whom I must have seen once or twice, who is not with them in spirit, but only in appearance, but without knowledge. He does not know what kind of being it is. And he always hopes to make him accept me, believing it is truly Sri Aurobindo. I saw this being last night. I wont tell you all the details of the vision. It is not necessary. But I must say that I was fully conscious, aware of everything, knowing that there was an Asuric Force there, but not rejecting it, because of the infinity of Sri Aurobindo. I knew that everything is part of him and I do not want to reject anything. I met this being last night three times, even apologized for sins that I have not committed, and in full love and surrender.
--
I am no more in my body. I have left the Lord to take care of it, if it is to have the Supramental or not. I know, and I have also said, that now is the last fight. If the purpose for which this body is alive is to be fulfilled, that is to say, the first steps towards the Supramental transformation, then it will continue today. It is the Lords decision. I am not even asking what He has decided. If the body is incapable of bearing the fight, if it has to be dissolved, then humanity will pass through a critical time. What the Asuric Force that has succeeded in taking the appearance of Sri Aurobindo will create is a new religion or thought, perhaps cruel and merciless, in the name of the Supramental Realisation. But everybody must know that it is not true, it is not Sri Aurobindos teaching, not the truth of his teaching. The truth of Sri Aurobindo is a truth of love and light and mercy. He is good and great and compassionate and divine. Et cest Lui qui aura la victoire finale.1
Now, individually, if you want to help, you have only to pray. What the Lord wants will be done. Whatever He wills, He will do with this body, which is a poor thing.
0 1962-04-13, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(After a perilous month, Mother has suddenly had the formidable, decisive experience, and she gives her first message. She is lying on her bed in the room upstairs, and has become quite thin. It is around ten in the morning. Her voice has greatly changed. Schoolchildren can be heard playing in the distance:)
Night of April 12-13.1
--
All the results of the Falsehood had disappeared: Death was an illusion, Sickness was an illusion, Ignorance was an illusion something that had no reality, no existence. Only Love, and Love, and Love, and Loveimmense, formidable, stupendous, carrying everything.
And how, how to express in the world? It was like an impossibility, because of the contradiction. But then it came: You have accepted that this world should know the Supramental Truth and it will be expressed totally, integrally. Yes, yes.
0 1962-05-13, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And then a Voice was explaining everything to me (not exactly a Voice, but something that was Sri Aurobindos origin, like the most recent gust from the Origin). As the experience unfolded, this Voice explained each gust to me, each span of the universe; and then it explained how it all became like this (Mother makes a gesture of reversal): the distortion of the universe. And I was wondering how it was possible, with that Consciousness, that supreme Consciousness, to relate to the present, distorted universe. How to make the connection without losing that Consciousness? A relationship between the two seemed impossible. And thats when that sort of Voice reminded me of my promise, that I had promised to do the Work on earth and it would be done. I promised to do the Work and it will be done.
Then began the process of descent,1 and the Voice was explaining it to me I lived through it all in detail, and it wasnt pleasant. It took an hour and a half to change from that true Consciousness to the individual consciousness. Because throughout the experience this present individuality no longer existed, this body no longer existed, there were no more limits, I was no longer herewhat was here was THE PERSON. An hour and a half was needed to return to the body-consciousness (not the physical consciousness but the body-consciousness), to the individual body-consciousness.
The first sign of the return to individuality was a prick of pain, a tiny point (Mother holds between her fingers a minuscule point in the space of her being). Yes, because I have a sore, a sore in a rather awkward place, and it hurts2 (Mother laughs). So I felt the pain: it was the sign of individuality coming back. Other than that, there was nothing any moreno body, no individual, no limits. But its strange, I have made a strange discovery3: I used to think it was the individual (Mother touches her body) who experienced pain and disabilities and all the misfortunes of human life; well, I perceived that what experiences misfortunes is not the individual not my body, but that each misfortune, each pain, each disability has its own individuality as it were, and each one represents a battle.
And my body is a world of battles.
--
I would prefer a word other than descent, because there was no sensation or notion of descentnone at all. It could be called the process of materialization or individualizationtransformation of consciousness would be more exact. It is the process of changing from the true Consciousness to the distorted consciousness thats it exactly.
You say it yourself: the transition from the true Consciousness to ordinary consciousness.
--
Later, Mother emphasized: "I don't mean a general discovery; it concerns my body alone. I don't say that all bodies are like this, but MY bodywhat has become my bodyis like this."
***
0 1962-05-15, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Did I tell you about it? It was a sort of vision that I took for a beginning of work on the subconscient. I had come to a place where Sri Aurobindo was staying and found him closeted in his room. There was a sort of large hall, an immense hall with rooms opening onto it, and his apartment was off to one side (gesture). I asked to see him. I was told it wasnt possible and I had to wait. I was astonished. Then certain things happened in the hall concerning A. and M. (rather interesting things, but concerning them personally). And at the same time, I was waiting. When it was all over, I asked once again to go into the room. Then through the doorway I saw I saw a tall Sri Aurobindomuch taller than he actually wasstrong but rather thin, thin in a way that not the way he really wasit was rather a gauntness, very harsh, very cold; and he was somewhat darker than he used to be. I saw him there, walking up and down; and when he was told I was asking to see him, I saw him in the distance saying, No, I dont want to see her. I wont acknowledge her and I dont want anything to do with hershe has betrayed me. Something like that (I couldnt hear the actual words, but the gestures were plain enough). Well, that was the very first timenothing of the kind had ever occurred before.
And I immediately felt that it was the expression of certain peoples thoughts. During the war there was a whole clique (I know their names and all the details) who said I had influenced Sri Aurobindo, made him deviate from his nationalist path and turn towards the Allies; they considered me to have ruined his life, his consciousness, his workeverything, you understand.1
And I was seeing the very IMAGE of that in this vision. A person I wont name (but I spoke to him afterwards; hes still here) came out of the room to tell me all this. In my vision I told him two things (it seems very distant nowit was back in 59and I no longer recall if I told him one thing after the other or both together). First of all, I protested against everything that fake Sri Aurobindo was saying about me, and at the same time I was going towards the person coming out of the room (its someone living here, you know, who is, who was quite close to Sri Aurobindo. Apparently he was under the influence of certain doubting thoughts, certain doubts, thats why he was there). I called him by name and spoke to him in English: But surely we have had a true spiritual relationship, a true union! Immediately he melted and said yes, and rushed headlong into my arms. In other words, that was his conversion, and thats why I spoke to him about it afterwards; I didnt tell him about the experience but I spoke of the doubt that was in him. It was truly a beginning of conversion in one part of his being, and for that reason I wont name him. And along with this, in answer to what that fake Sri Aurobindo was saying, I said forcefully (also in English): This means the negation of all spiritual experience! And immediately the whole scene, the whole construction, everythingpoof! Vanished, dissolved. The Force swept it all away.
Later, when I had that second vision April 3, 1962, I saw that the same being was behind this would-be Sri Aurobindo (and with a whole group organized around himpeople, ceremonies and so on). So from that I concluded that the thing had been developing. But when I first encountered those people [in 1959] it was merely something in the Subconscient and the effect was only psychological (an hour or two was enough to sort things out and put them in order). It didnt affect my health. But this time.
--
But are you making a distinction between the body-consciousness and the physical consciousness?
Oh yes! The physical consciousness is something very complex; it includes the whole physical, conscious world.
--
(Mother then starts working on the next Bulletin. She asks Satprem to speak slowly and distinctly:)
Theres a sort of universal cloud between me and other people I seem to see through a veil and hear through a kind of cloud. Thats why I ask people to be very clear.
--
Striking though the parallel may be, there is still a fundamental difference between these mathematical concepts and Mothers experience. In the first case, we are dealing with conceptual instruments used by the human mind to better explain and master the world: no one has actually seen electromagnetic wavesnot to speak of gravitational ones! They are images, convenient models, invisible and nonexistent in themselves. They exist only through their effects: a beam of sunlight, which is an electromagnetic wave, strikes our retina and enables us to distinguish a flower; by means of gravitational waves, Newtons apple falls from the tree but no one has lived the reality of those waves. The way Mother grasps reality, on the contrary, is first and foremost through lived experience. She is the movement, she is the wave: I walk around the room, and that is what is walking. Here we touch upon a stupendous mystery and a formidable question: How is it possible for a material and cellular body to be the wave that at once constitutes and carries the worlds along in its infinite undulating movement and governs the existence of atoms and galaxies? How is it possible to be an infinite and ubiquitous electromagnetic wave while remaining within the narrow confines of a human body?
In being THAT, it might be said, Mother thus resolves the famous question of the unified-field theory, the theory to which Einstein devoted the last years of his life in vain, that would describe the movements of both planets and atoms in a single mathematical equation. Mothers body-consciousness is one with the movement of the universe, Mother lives the unified-field theory in her body. In so doing she opens up to us not merely one more physical theory, but the very path to a new species on earth, a species that will physically and materially live on the scale of the universe. The posthuman species might not simply be one with a few organs more or less, but rather one capable of being at every point in the universe. A sort of material ubiquity. It may not be so much a new as an ubiquitous species, a species that embraces everything, from the blade of grass under our feet to the far galaxies. A multifarious, undulating existence. A resume or epitome of evolution, really, which at the end of its course again becomes each point and each species and each movement of its own evolution.
0 1962-05-18, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
And even there I have had an instant (but it was like a flash the flash of a new experience), an instant when pain disappeared into something else. It has happened three or four times. The pain suddenly became something completely different (not a pleasant sensation, not that at all): another state of consciousness.
If that state remained, I would truly be free of the world as it is. Nonetheless, people can still hear me, cant they? And I can still see, but in a peculiar waya very peculiar way. At times I see with greater precision than ever before (generally, as I told you the other day, I seem to see from behind a veil; thats constant). I hear things that way too. Certain sounds. On one occasion I noticed a sound, a seemingly imperceptible sound, coming from about a hundred yards away, and it seemed to be right here. All this has changed I mean the whole way the organs function. Have the organs themselves changed, or is it their functioning? I dont know. But they all obey another lawabsolutely.
--
A disengagement?
Perhaps.
0 1962-05-22, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(The beginning of this conversation, unfortunately not kept, dealt with certain instances of human ugliness. The topic, in fact, was Satprem's break with X who had been his guru for the past few years. The reasons for this rupture may one day be told, but it should be stressed right now that the fault did not really lie with X, whom Satprem continued to respect, but with a group of schemers at the Ashram who fastened onto X in the hope of god knows what "powers." It is perhaps just as well that the human "ugliness" here in question has vanished from Satprem's records, foralthough it did come up again immediately after Mother's departureit concerned only the Ashram disciples. All the details and all Mother's reflections on the subject have thus been lost, with the exception of this last fragment:)
What a world!
Oh! You cant imagine the discoveries I have made since I withdrew and supposedly have no more dealings with the outside.
I was already more than eighty, and had seen nearly every country in the world and every possible kind of personand, well, I made some more discoveries, and I am making still more.
Theres such a wonderful passage in The Synthesis of Yoga (The Yoga of Self-Perfection), where he mentions four things (you surely remember this), four things the disciple needs (I have just translated it). I knew this, of course, but the passage is especially timely nowparticularly after that last experience, which is a jolt for a physical being. The fourth thing is wonderful. The first three we know: equality, peace and (a hard one) a spiritual ease in all circumstances. He added the word spiritual so people wouldnt think only of material easeits an ease in feelings, in sensations, in everything. But when you have a lot of pain its obviously not so easy! When physical pain keeps you from sleeping and eating, when you are plagued by constant physical painor rather by a whole host of physical pains!well, that bodily ease becomes difficult. Its the one thing thathas seemed difficult to me; but anyway, its being investigated I think it was sent for me to investigate.
But the last thing he mentions is a marvel the joy and laughter of the soul. And its so true, so true! Always, all the time, no matter what happens, even when this body is in dreadful pain, the soul is laughing joyously within. Always, always, always.
0 1962-05-24, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
From my own experience, though, I could say to all those who believe EXCLUSIVELY in the spiritual approach, the approach through inner experience, that thisat least if its exclusiveis equally fatal. For it reveals to them ONE aspect, ONE truth of the Whole but not THE Whole. The other side seems just as in dispensable to me, for when I was so utterly in that supreme Realization, this other falsified, outer realization was undeniably just a distortion (and probably accidental) of something EQUALLY TRUE.
This something is what we are seeking. And perhaps not merely seekingwe may be taking part in the MAKING of it.
--
These positions the spiritual and the materialist (if you can call it that) positionswhich consider themselves exclusive (exclusive and unique, and so each one denies the others value in the name of Truth) are inadequate, not only because neither one will accept the other, but because even accepting and uniting them both wont solve the problem. Something else is needed, a third position that isnt the result of these two but something still to be discovered, which will probably open the door to total Knowledge.
Well, thats where I stand.
--
This discovery?
That. Ultimately, its always the same thing. Its always the same: realize your own being, enter into conscious contact with the supreme Truth of your own being, in WHATEVER form, by WHATEVER path (thats totally irrelevant); its the only way. We each carry a truth within ourselves, and we must unite with that truth; we must live that truth. And the path we have to follow to realize and unite with this truth is the very path that will lead us as near as we can possibly come to Knowledge. I mean the two are absolutely one: the personal realization and Knowledge.
--
77Genius discovers a system; average talent stereotypes it till it is shattered by fresh genius. It is dangerous for an army to be led by veterans; for on the other side God may place Napoleon.
I dont think we can speak of this one either. No, I dont think so.
0 1962-05-27, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But the reason behind the idea was my physical condition. I hadnt thought of Sujata at first; I simply saw I dont know. Im tired all the time, its true. My reserves are all used up. Anything extra exhausts me. And on top of it, theres also a discouraging psychological state. For one thing, my nights are totally unconscious the mind turns round and round and I cant sleep. My meditations are always the same. You know, the feeling of nothing, nothing, nothing. So I think the cause of all this lies in the kind of physical life I lead.2
A lack of vitality.
--
(After a silence) Among those who have gone beyond the stage of needing successive reincarnations to develop their psychic beings, among those whose souls are conscious, fully developed, there are some who (what shall I say?) who are chosen or destined to participate in a certain terrestrial action. And in the process of reincarnation, there is always always some degree of confusion and disarray, you see. I can speak of my own case, if you like; despite every precaution, certain kinds of confusion couldnt be avoided and of course this complicated the work. It was the same for Sri Aurobindo. And all this confusion sometimes greatly disrupts the work.
But there are a certain number of beingsnot manywho have come back on earth ONLY to take part in a particular work, in a particular way. And outer things, personal and individual things, are virtually sacrificed to that. Certain faculties, for instance, whose source is the higher entity, faculties that in an ordinary life would result in a measure of power or fame or success or realization, are placed under conditions where their outer effect is subordinated to the needs of a particular work.
--
So when I wake up every morning with a black hole where my night was, I wake up discouraged. Whats the matter with me! I wonder.
Yes.
0 1962-05-29, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I was given a similar experience with the sea. In the house where I distribute prosperity1 theres a veranda with a little nook, and set in the nook is a window (not a window, actuallyan opening), and through the opening you can glimpse a patch of sea, no bigger than this (gesture). And at that time too the body was feeling closed in, a little weary and confined. I used to give meditations to about twenty people on the veranda (afterwards I would always tell Sri Aurobindo what had gone on). And one day, as I am walking across the veranda to give the meditation, I turn my eye and I see the sea. And suddenly it was all oceanic immensity and with a sense of free sailing, from one place to another. The sea breeze, the taste of the sea, and the sense of immensity, vastness, freedom something limitless. It lasted a quarter of an hour, twenty minutes. My body came out of it refreshed, as if I had gone for a long sail.
I want to emphasize that the effect is PHYSICAL: the experience is concrete and has a physical effect. Thats what I would like to give you.
--
(Mother then asks Satprem various questions about his japa, and, after a very long silence during which she seems to be elsewhere or looking into the distance, continues:)
It is very interesting, mon petit. As you were telling me about it, I automatically went into that state. And there was a kind ofhow shall I put it? I dont know what to call it. It is a movement akin to will, but it has nothing to do with thought, its a feeling: I wanted to take you into the experience. And it was shown to meliterally shown that your whole relationship with the inner and outer worlds is situated here (gesture above the head); thats why it is so well expressed through intellectual activity. But here (gesture to the solar plexus) theres not much. And I was seeing this, you know, I was touching it. It only comes indirectly, as a consequence. And then down here (gesture lower down): NOTHING. It remains just the way it was formed when you came down to earth!
0 1962-05-31, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Theres a strange thing that happens to me all the time, at least fifty times a day (and its particularly clear at night). In its most external form its like moving from one room to another, or from one house to another, and you go through the door or the wall almost without noticing it, automatically. Being in one room is reflected outwardly by quite a comfortable condition, a state where theres no pain at all, no pain anywhere, and a great peacea joyous peace, a state of perfect calm an ideal condition, at any rate, which sometimes lasts a long, long time. Its mainly at night, actually; during the day people interrupt me with all sorts of things, but for a certain number of hours at night this state is practically constant. And then suddenly, with no perceptible or apparent reason (I havent yet discovered the why or the wherefore of it), you seem to FALL into the other room, or into the other house, as though you had made a false step and then you have a pain here, an ache there, youre uncomfortable.
Obviously its the continuation of the same experience I told you about,1 but now it has come to this. I mean the two states are now distinctnoticeably distinct; but so far I havent found either the why or the wherefore. Is it something coming from outside or just an old rut: yes, it really feels like an old rut, like a wrinkle in a piece of cloth; you know, you iron it out again and again, and the wrinkle comes back. Thats more the feeling it gives menot at all a conscious habit, just an old rut. But might something from outside also be provoking it?
And the dreams it gives me! Oh, theres a whole series of them, with particular styles and categories. You start down a flight of stairsno more stairs; you want to take a certain road the road closes; you want to catch someoneyou cant. All kinds of things. And although these dreams (I have a whole collection of them, in fact) recur with certain minor outward differences, they are all of the same type. Its a well-known type which I now classify as self-imposed troubles. When I get out of it and look, I see very clearly that its only this nasty habit we have of fretting over nothing! (Laughingly) Oh, whatever we want to do, immediately theres a complication, a difficulty.
--
The only thing to do is not torment yourself and to say to the Lord (in all sincerity, of course), Its up to You. Rid me of this. And it is very effective. Very effective. At times I have had old things like that dissolved in a flash; certain inveterate little habitsso stupid, but so ingrained you cant get rid of them. Then, while doing japa or walking or meditating or whatever, suddenly the flame flares up and (you have really had enough of it; it disgusts you, you want it to change, you really want the change) and you say to the Lord, I cant do it on my own. (You very sincerely know you cant do it; you have tried and tried and tried and have achieved exactly nothingyou cant do it.) Well then, I offer it to YouYou do it. Just like that. And all at once you see the thing fading away. It is simply wonderful. You know how Sri Aurobindo used to take away someones pain? Its exactly the same. Certain habits bound up with the bodys formation.
One day I will certainly use the same method on those room changes, but for that it will have to become very clear and distinct, well defined in the consciousness. Because that change of room (intellectually you would call it a change of consciousness, but that means nothing at all; were dealing here with something very, very material) I have sometimes gone through it without experiencing ANY CHANGE OF EFFECT, which probably means I was centered not in the material consciousness but in a higher consciousness dwelling and looking on from elsewherea witness consciousness and I was in a state where everything flows flows like a river of tranquil peace. Truly, its marvelousall creation, all life, all movements, all things, and everything like a single mass, with the body in the midst of it all, blending homogeneously with the whole and it all flows on like a river of peace, peaceful and smiling, on to infinity. And then oops! You trip (gesture of inversion2) and once again find yourself SITUATEDyou ARE somewhere, at some specific moment of time; and then theres a pain here, a pain there, a pain. And sometimes I have seen, I have witnessed the change from the one to the other WITHOUT feeling the pains or experiencing the thing concretely, which means that I wasnt at all in the body, I wasnt BOUND to the body I was seeing, only seeing, just like a witness. And its always accompanied by the kind of observation an indulgent (but not blind) friend might make: But why? Why that again? Thats how it comes. Whats the use of that? And I cant catch hold of what makes it happen.
It will come.
--
Something done with a very light touch, with no importance attached to it, but coming from a new worldoh, nowadays I constantly make a distinction between (what shall I say?) the straight-line, right-angle life and the undulating life. One life I might describe like this (Mother makes chopping gestures, showing crisscrossing lines): everything is sharp-edged, hard, angular, and youre constantly bumping into things; and then theres an undulating life, very sweet, with a great charmVERY charming but not not too stable. Strange, its a completely different kind of life. Well, my story belonged to that world. There was nothing here (Mother touches her forehead), and not even anything here (above the head); it was something like like waves. And it was very joyous, very joyous and carefree.
(silence)
--
If you want to ask a question, just ask. If you want to be silent, we can be silent. Whatever you liketill eleven oclock I am at your disposal!
Nothing? You have nothing to tell me? Theres nothing you would like to say?
--
On my part, well. What I saw for you, what Ive been seeing since the day before yesterday, is just the opposite: it is something being loosened up. Only I plainly see that theres also a worthless road that must not be followed; and both roads are very close together. Why so close! Its like those two rooms: why are they so near each other? If only there were some distance! But no, its all intertwined.
And its the same thing: whats needed is the path of vastness, widening, relaxation, ease, of BLOSSOMING in the vitalnot so much a censorial vital as as gentleness, a certain sweetness. The vital blossoming into beauty: sweetness and beauty. I dont want to speak of sentiments because oh, that lands us right in a quagmire! No, but a sweetness and charm and beauty but not there (in the head): here. And then restnot a stiff and stony and stagnant rest, a rest within the undulation. You let yourself float.3
--
Thats it, thats what we must catch hold ofa sort of cadence, a wave movement, and it has such vastness, such power! Its tremendous, really. And it doesnt disrupt anything. It doesnt displace anything, it doesnt clash with anything.4 And it carries the universe in its undulatory movementso smoothly!
(silence)
--
And no more distinctions.
No more distinctions. And also, even physically, something with no beginning; there is no sense of from this moment on, from that point on that no longer exists. Its like like relaxing into an indefinite past.
I am speaking now of a BODILY sensation.
--
And yet I have noticed that to associate a certain state and a certain aspiration with a certain sound helps the body. No one told me the mantra; I had begun doing japa before we met X (it had come to me when I was trying to find a means of getting the body to take part in the experience the body itself, you know: THIS). And this help was certainly given to me, because the method imposed itself very, very imperiouslywhen I heard certain Words it was like an electric shock. And then, disregarding all Sanskrit rules, I made myself a sentence; it isnt really a Sanskrit sentence, or any kind of sentence at alla phrase made up of three Words. And these three Words are full of meaning for me. (I wouldnt mention it to a Sanskritist!) They have a full, living meaning. And they have been repeated literally millions and millions of times, I am not exaggerating they surge up from the body spontaneously.
It was the first sound that came from the body when I had that last experience [April 13]. Along with the first pain, came that first soundso it must be quite well rooted.6 And it brings in exactly that vibration of eternal Life: the first thing I felt, all of a sudden, was a kind of strong calm, confident and smiling.
--
Interestingly enough, physicists also say that the wave movement does not displace matter. For example, the concentric ripples caused on the surface of a pond by the fall of a pebble do not carry the water molecules along with them: a cork floating on the water rises and falls with the undulatory rhythm without traveling on the pond.
Mother is not speaking here of only her mantra but of all mantras. As she later added: "No mantra has any effect unless it is ACCEPTED by the Power being addressed. When (like the Tantrics, for example) you do a mantra for a certain deity, if this deity accepts the mantra, that gives it power; but if the deity doesn't accept your mantra, it has no power at all. This isn't something I got out of a book, I know it from my own experience but I believe it has been explained in Tantric texts."
0 1962-06-02, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The afternoon experience was very intriguing; I was busy working (organizing things for one of the departments, I no longer remember which) and then I said to the person I was with, Now I am going to my cousins place! When I was very young I had a cousin, the eldest son of one of my fathers brothers (he had a large family, such as you seldom see in France). This cousin became some kind of engineera civil engineer, maybe, or a mechanical engineer (he was an outstanding chemist). Anyway, this boy was very attracted to me. He went off to the war as an officer and caught some disease (I forget what) and died around 1915, at the time I returned to France. Well, in my experience yesterday afternoon, a certain family living HERE gave me exactly the same sensation I had had towards those people when I was young. And especially for this cousin (for the rest of the family it was more vague, like a background to the experience). I am going to their place, I said. They have a lovely estate here, just as they had a lovely estate in France before (they had Madame de Sevignes chateau at Sucy, near Parisa beautiful property). And it was all so concrete! It wasnt coming through the head; it wasnt a thought but a sensation. I have to go see him now, I said. And even as I was having my vision I was telling myself, You must be going crazy! Can they really be here in Pondicherry? This uncle with whom I had only rather distant relations and this cousin I never saw much of, but whom I knew to be very nice and very loyalAre they really here?! The sensation was most strange (the head wasnt functioning at all; it was a SENSATION). So off I went to see this cousin, and it was on the way to see him that I had the experience of crossing the river. And on the way back, after the discussion with the spiritual brother (whom I really told off: Get out of here! I dont need you!), after that, when I found myself back on the bank, I started collecting my consciousness again, telling myself, Look here now! Lets try to see clearly. And then I realized that the cousin who died prematurely during the war had reincarnated in someone here. How strange, I thought. And the dates coincided.
But that is a singular state: there is no mental intervention at all; you live things POSITIVELY, just as you experience them physically, in the same way that this (Mother knocks on the table next to her) is physically a table. Its that kind of perception something positive. I positively said, I am going to my cousins place, and the relationship had an absolutely positive vibrationit wasnt at all something thought or even remembered: theres no remembering anything, its simply there, alive. A strange state. I have had it on several occasions, and when I have it I am aware that this must be the state people who know what is happening and make predictions are inin this state there is no possibility of doubt. No thoughts intervenenone at all, not one. Absolutely nothing intellectual: simply certain vital-physical vibrations, and then you know. And you dont even wonder how you know; its not that kind of thingits self-evident. And since I was in that state when I saw the reincarnation of the cousin, I am perfectly sure of what I saw. And god knows (Mother laughs), when I came out of it and began to look at it all with my usual consciousness, I said to myself, My word! I would never have thought of such a thing! It was millions of miles from any thought of mine. Besides, I never used to think of that cousin; he was a fine boy but I never paid much attention to him, he had no place in my active consciousness.
0 1962-06-06, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
It happened in a split second: I was sitting, waiting for you, thinking you were about to come; but the door wasnt opening, so automatically the body went like this (inward-turning gesture). And since it happened so suddenly, I noticed the difference in the way the body felt. What it normally feels is a formidable willvery tranquil, very peaceful, free of tension or agitation, yet so direct and clear, concentrated (not concentrated: coagulated) that it is almost hard. And thats what controls the body, thats what the body obeys. And when thats not there, its the other state: smooth, mellow, soft, woolly and what peace! As if nothing in the world could disturb it.
It took maybe a second or a fraction of a second thats why I was able to observe both states.
--
And what nights I have! Nights like the one I told you about the other day, with visions and actions; and then I have nights. All night last night, I didnt lose consciousness, I dont feel I slept for a minute; and it was like being in a sort of temporal Infinity (both hands open above the head). From time to time, I look at the clock (all at once I feel something pulling me and I look at the clock): two or two and a half hours have passedlike a second. Did I sleep, you ask? Did the consciousness fall asleep? No, not for a second. But the sense of time completely disappears into into an inner immobility. But an immobility in motion!
If it keeps on like this, they will put me in a padded cell!
--
I remember reading something by Sri Aurobindo, I think, about certain philosophical or spiritual theories which held that there was only one Soul, or one Purusha (I dont remember what he called it); this Soul had the entire experience of the distortion of the universe, and this same Soul was also experiencing the Return. And it was pointed out with in disputable logic that if there really is but ONE Soul, then from the moment mastery is attainedregardless of whether it is by an individual or a world, a god or an ant the moment the power to change the distortion into the Truth exists, its all over and done with! The change automatically comes into force.
But then it was noted that some people did accomplish this Returnsince they lived it and described it but all the same, everything else continues to exist, to coexist. Therefore.
--
Because everything changes, but nothing disappears. You know, thinking the way we commonly do, it seems to us that the present state of the world will change and be replaced by something else. And on the other hand, we know from experience that whatever exists, exists eternally. So then what?
(long silence)
0 1962-06-09, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
As an analogy, look at what science has discovered about the so-called composition of matter at the atomic leveltheres nothing to change. Nothing to change! The constituent element doesnt change, the relations between things are what change.
Everything has one and the same constituent element, you see; and everything lies IN the interrelations.1 Well, its exactly the same for the transformation.
--
But this has to be very concretely grasped. Well, I say that the power must change this intra-atomic movement. Then, instead of disintegrating, your bodily substance will obey the movement of Transformation, you follow? But its all the SAME thing! What must change are the relations among things.
And so it becomes EVIDENT that immortality can be achieved! Things get destroyed simply because of their own rigidity and even then, its only a semblance of destruction; the essential element stays the same, everywhere, in everything, in decay just as much as in life.
--
Ultimately, its all the constructing Will. This constructing Will is eternal, immortal and infiniteits obviousso if it is left to this Will, theres no reason why Its creation shouldnt partake of immortality and infinitythings dont necessarily have to go through the semblance of disintegration to change form, its not in dispensable. It has come to be that way for some reason or other (which is probably none of our business), but its not in dispensable, it could be different.
(silence)
0 1962-06-12, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Unexpectedly, this conversation led into the subject of Satprem's break with X, who had been his guru for the past few years. Here then, briefly, is the story behind the rupture: No sooner had Satprem brought X to the Ashram than a swarm of disciples threw themselves at him. Conspicuous among these were the moneymen, the same wheelerdealers who, eleven years later, after Mother's departure, were to reveal their ambitions in Auroville as well as Pondicherry. Satprem's somewhat straightforward manner soon got in the way of their schemes. He had a deep affection for X and when he repeatedly saw that these peoplespiritual scoundrels is the only word for themwere, in the hope of sowing confusion (for they always prosper best in confusion), bringing false reports to Mother of things X had supposedly said, he tried in all innocence to put X on his guard against the false reports and dishonest people who were wronging him. But instead of listening to Satprem and understanding that he spoke out of love, Xwith all his Tantric power behindflew into a violent rage against him, as if he had been casting a slur on X's prestige. Satprem then broke with X, but not without sorrow.)
Anything new?
--
Thats exactly it! I detest gossip, you know, so I never spread any, but he has told some people incredible things. I dont tell on him to you because I find it a kind of its something I dislike. Thats why I spoke to himin such a case, I always refer to something within, to the deep affection I had for him. I mean I was trying to help. I had NO OTHER kind of reaction. I saw him in a bad spot and tried to help him out, thats all.
Yes, but with the sort of people he had around him, you understand.
--
You see, the trouble is hes a man whose principles and education prevent him from believing in progress and transformation. He believes that if you fulfill the conditions you get the siddhi,3 and thats the end of it the goal is reached. He had already attained his goal before meeting us, and then he could have kept his distance, but he became intimately connected with something full of all kinds of difficulties (which we neither ignore nor call for), but its essentially a Power for progressan awesome force for progress. Well, when I saw that, I wondered, How can he possibly bear it? I thought he would keep his distance and not enter the atmosphere, but he did try to enterhe linked up with certain people, and particularly when he started meditating with me (he asked for it, not me), suddenly something responded. And that triggered the conflict in him. One part of his being has gone along with the Movement, while the other is left strandeddoesnt budge. That created a gap.
Of course, one has to be in a terribly superficial consciousness to react the way he did. He had a rather deep contact with you, and there were moments when he understood very well who you arehe knows, he told me so. Consequently, had he truly been in a yogic state, then even if you had done something tactless or wrong, he would have just smiled! He would have said, Oh, hes just impetuous, but I dont mind.
--
But through that event I have been put in contact with a certain realm of mental distortion which is a bit bewildering. Ive realized that I say something, something clear as crystal for me, and then.
(silence)
No, the Grace has made him an object of special attention, thrusting him into a world which, externally, was not his own. In a matter of a few years he has made a journey of several lifetimes, so it has been a little bit difficult. Truly, in a few years he has inwardly traveled many lifetimes. And he has had to face the necessity of an enormous progress, all the more difficult because he hadnt mentally accepted or foreseen it. So he doesnt understand any more, poor man! If I could only take him in my arms like a baby and say to him, My poor little dear, my dear little child and make him feel good, then all would be well. But its not possible theres a whole spiritual construction. So I do it from a distance, wordlessly, in silence. But what gets through all that crust? I dont know! Over and over, I keep saying one thing: To divine Love, all human confusions and misunderstandings are unknown. There. Well, we will see. Wherever divine Love is present, human confusions and misunderstandings cannot exist, cannot enter.
Thats the only solution.
--
That whole way of seeing, feeling and reacting belongs really to another world. Really to another world to such a degree that if I had no regard for peoples peace of mind I would say, I dont know whether I am dead or alive. Because there is a life, a type of life vibration that is completely independent of. No, Ill put it another way: the way people ordinarily feel life, feel that they are alive, is intimately linked with a certain sensation they have of their bodies and of themselves. If you totally eliminate that sensation, the type of relation that allows people to say I am alive well, eliminate that, but then how can you say, I am alive, or I am not alive? The distinction NO LONGER EXISTS. Well, for me, it has been completely eliminated. That night April 12-13, it was definitively swept out of me. It has never come back. Its something that seems impossible now. So what they mean by I am alive is I cant say I am alive the way they doits something else entirely.
Better not keep thisin the end theyll be worrying about my sanity! (Mother laughs.)
--
Well, mon petit, if thats what you want you will have to work a lotyou will have to bring into your vital and emotional being a great calm and peace. Things like that [with X] mustnt be able to disturb you, make you sick and so forth. Only on that condition can you get what you want.
A flash, yes (you had it once at Brindaban,6 you had an experience there); a flash is possible. But you want something permanent.
--
The final reckoning for the others isn't known, but for Satprem this incident resulted in definitively and exclusively binding him to Mother, and in particular made him grasp the futility of tons of discipline that simply imprison you more solidly within a "realization"for all realizations are prisons, save only the Supramental, which is light as air. As for the wheelerdealers, who in order to continue scheming in peace wanted to keep X apart from Mother and Satprem ... they seem to have succeeded in their devious intention.
Conversations with the Mother, 1929.
0 1962-06-20, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Pavitra was telling me the other day that, according to the latest scientific discoveries, matter in its present state can be immortal. Theres no reason that it couldnt change (for it changes all the time) enough to avoid decay. Nothing in matters composition stands in the way of its immortalityimmortality of form, I mean. If science simply follows its own course (and does not suddenly find itself confronted with something beyond its grasp), theres no reason it should not provide people who dont have a mystical or occult turn of mind with a way to use the present substance in imperishable forms, without recourse to anything from other realms.
This is a great support for practical-minded people.
From the standpoint of spiritual knowledge, decay, dissolution and disintegration unquestionably result from a wrong attitude.
A wrong attitude?
--
My own experience is going on in the tiniest details, details imperceptible in themselves but pointing in a certain direction that, increasingly, is this: when you take a wrong attitude, it immediately sets off all the disorders. Almost as if you shift into a wrong gear the image is too rigid, of course, its not really that but we can say that the whole universe is rolling smoothly along and its only when you go like this or like that (Mother indicates a shifting of gears) that disorders arise. You can have a wrong attitude in a number of ways. Its like a slight shifting of gears: things still work (assuming the mechanism to be particularly supple) but they gratethey grate and therefore wear out and deteriorate and break down. But if they were in the true position, there would be no friction.
The sense of friction doesnt existit disappears, theres no friction. Friction results only from the wrong angle from something, a sort of shift.
Of course, this is much more easily expressed in psychological termspsychologically, its very simple, crystal clear but even MATERIALLY its like that.
--
From this standpoint the standpoint of this body and its activities I am maintained in a state of utter indifference. Everything people want to do, all their programs and projects and so forth all that is far, far removed from me (gesture towards a distant shore); its all a distant blur. I dont even look at it. It only comes to me when someone tells me something (gesture of a thought floating momentarily by), and then it goes.
The body itself senses that it must learn to live in eternity.
0 1962-06-23, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I cant say I find it terribly interesting (!) but I am clearly meant to know about it. Not that I am seeking to see or know (my focus is rather on preparing the body and making it receptive; thats what I am actively doing), but what probably happens is that, in my contemplation, I suddenly exteriorize (or something of the sort) and then I see all kinds of things. But I DONT sleep, you see (I dont know how to explain it). I go from a state of conscious concentration to a more passive state in which I am made to take part in all kinds of scenes and visions, involving many people and many things, as if to complete my knowledge. Some of these visions are amusing, new and interesting, and I dont know, but I suspect Sri Aurobindo has something to do with it, because theres such a sense of humor running through it all! (Mother laughs) Things that make me laugh, comical things due mainly to the tremendous earnestness with which people take the most unimportant things; yes, the disproportionate importance people give to absolutely unimportant events!
(silence)
0 1962-06-27, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Previously, when I had an experience, I took great care to keep everything quiet and still so that it wouldnt be interrupted; but afterwards it was always made use of by the mind in its typical way (not exactly typical, but typical to the mind), and this appeared to be inevitable. But now it doesnt work in the same way: its limited to a few inevitable interventions; I mean people speak to me or I to them (I keep as silent as I can, but they still chatter away about every possible subject and I am obliged to answer), and its limited to that. But as it is, even that as soon as I am a bit concentrated, even that seems so not wrong or distorted, not that, but INADEQUATE. It expresses absolutely nothing, thats all I can say.
The TRUE thing escapes completely.
--
Everything that happened prior to the experience of April 13 has disappeared, as it were, and the usual functioning of the consciousness has been totally annulled; it is trying little by little to create a new mode of operationnot merely trying: it is in the PROCESS of doing so on a truer foundation; a truer foundation, or truer relations, or vibrations, or functionings (I dont know the right word for it: all these things at once). That presence the other day [the tall white Being] was nothing essentially newit had already intervened a good many times; and yet it was new, because the whole functioning was new. Its like my experience two nights ago [the recharging of batteries], I had it for months on end; well, it was new because it was based on a new functioning. And each time (is it out of habit, or to make me understand, to make me see the difference?), each time the old functioning starts up, first of all I really feel I am losing the true contact, that the TRUE thing is escaping, and then I wonder how anybody can function like that without going insane! Thats what strikes me nowthis feeling of going insane! I mean it grates, it scrapes, it makes no senseit misses the point. It is not the TRUE thing, its beside the point. It tries to imitate something inimitable. And so I ask myself, What is this? Am I going crazy? Am I losing my faculties? And then I realize its not that at all! Above theres a state of immutable and UNSHAKABLE concentration, constant and almighty, and with but a drop of That, a spark of That, all problems are solved. Then I see clearly that its only a demonstration to make me see the inadequacy of the old, habitual functioningto really and truly convince me that its inadequate. Its rather hard to bear, actually. Last night I had it, I have seen it again in recent days: it lasts a few secondsjust enough for a satisfactory lesson! It may also happen to make me understand, but afterwards I wonder, Well, if everybody is in this state they dont know it, but its just terrible! And I realize that the LEAST thing, the slightest circumstance, is COMPLETELY distorted, instantly distorted by the way people work it out, the way they cause events to develop.
Thats an ever-present experience.
--
Someone reads me a letter, for instance, and I have to answer; and there, superimposed, are both functionings: the ordinary reaction coming from above (nothing from here: it comes from above but its the ordinary reaction) and if I follow that and start writing, after a moment comes a kind of sensation that its inadequate; and then theres the other functioning which is not yet (whats the word? I should be speaking in English!) handy, not yet at my disposal. I have to keep myself quiet, then it starts operating [the new functioning]. But when theres something to be done, the two are superimposed and I have to keep the old one quiet for the other to come. And the other one ohh, it has some unexpected ways! I answer a letter, for example, or I want to say something to someone: my old way is an expression of what comes from above (it is luminous enough, but ADAPTED) but then theres that sensation of inadequacyit wont do. All right. I step back and something else comes; and what comes, I must admit its enough to drive people crazy! Its so MUCH SOMETHING ELSE!
I wrote a letter like that yesterday; I took a piece of paper and wrote in my habitual way, my old way. While I was writing, the feeling that it wasnt right came in; then I added a comment, written in the same manner, with the vision from above (a comment on a letter written by the person I was writing to). When that was done, the feeling of inadequacy lingered, so I took another piece of paperit was blue and wrote something and that still wasnt it. So I ended up taking yet another piece of paper and writing something else again then I put all three in one envelope! I hope that person has a solid head! But at the same time something was telling me, It will do him good; so I let it go.
--
Its obviously a very good test of peoples trust, because without trust they would. For someone who doesnt have my experience, it all appears like first-class incoherence! Oh, it can be explained (everything can be explained! Its not beyond all explanation), but it is a bit disconcerting at first glance.
Anyway.
--
A whiteness and a strength is in the skies... Virgin formidable In beauty, disturber of the ancient world!... How art thou white and beautiful and calm, Yet clothed in tumult! Heaven above thee shakes Wounded with lightnings, goddess, and the sea Flees from thy dreadful tranquil feet.
Perseus the Deliverer, Cent. Ed., VI. 6.
0 1962-06-30, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I have experienced this hundreds and hundreds of times: one has a deep, true experience, but the mind, even the higher mind, immediately latches onto it (usually its the higher mind) and very actively makes its OWN thing out of the experience, thus bringing in its own distortion.
It comes merely as an addition, the distortion is not total, theres still something quite true behind it.
All those things are barriers the mind sets against the Truth.
--
Almost all my memories of past lives came like that; the particular being reincarnated in me rises to the surface and begins acting as if it were all on its own! Once in Italy, when I was fifteen, it happened in an extraordinary way. But that time I did some research. I was in Venice with my mother and I researched in museums and archives, and I discovered my name, and the names of the other people involved. I had relived a scene in the Ducal Palace, but relived it in such a such an absolutely intense way (laughinga scene where I was being strangled and thrown into a canal!) that my mother had to hurry me out of there as fast as she could! But that experience I wrote down, so the exact memory has been kept (I didnt write down the other experiences, so the details have all faded away, but this one was noted, although I didnt include any names). The next morning I did some research and uncovered the whole story. I told it all to Thon and Madame Thon, and he also had the memory of a past life there, during the same period. And as a matter of fact, I had seen a portrait there that was the spitting image of Thon! The portrait of one of the doges. It was absolutely (it was a Titian) absolutely Thon! HIS portrait, you know, as if it had just been done.5
All those kinds of things came to me just like that, without my looking for them, wanting them, or understanding them, without doing any sort of discipline, nothingit was absolutely spontaneous. And they just kept on coming and coming and coming.
From the time I met Thon, it all got clarified: I saw it all clearly, understood and organized it. But a good deal of it happened beforeeverything I have just told you happened before I met Thon.
--
In those movements of consciousness, in this state of consciousness, I am comfortable (Mother heaves a sigh). But it has taken me a lot of discipline to concentrate here [in the body]: there was always something, from my very childhood, that felt hemmed in, squeezed, really oh! And with a sense of something so powerful that if it ever went into action (gesture of unleashing), it would smash everything.
Now it has been tamed.
--
No, there wasn't! They discovered it.
Humanity has undergone a spiritual evolution.
0 1962-07-04, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The other day, Pavitra said to me in passing, Modern science would neither follow nor believe us. According to him, scientists acknowledge only essential hypotheses, and not having the experience, would take our science for a set of non-essential hypotheses. I didnt argue, or else I would have told him, We dont make any hypotheses, far from it, we simply state our experiences. They are free to disbelieve us or to think were half crazy or hallucinating thats up to them, its their business. But we dont make hypotheses, we speak of things we know and have experienced.
For several hours afterwards I had a vision of this state of mind and found absolutely no need to make hypotheses (you see, Pavitra was speaking of hypothesizing the existence of different states of being). Its just as I told you: I have passed that stage; I dont need inner dimensions any more.1 And observing this materialistic state of mind, it occurred to me that, on the basis of their own experiments, they are bound to admit onenessat least the oneness of matter; and to admit oneness is enough to obtain the key to the whole problem!
--
I immediately said to myself, But he was still existing, living, having the experience, absolutely INDEPENDENT of his bodyhe didnt need his body to have his experience. And with my protection and knowledge I could have put him either in a place of rest or, if need be, in touch with another body and that would have been the end of it. Now, of course, everything is disrupted and we have to wait for things to calm down.5
But it is possible to die without knowing you are dead.
0 1962-07-07, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But after this prologue, I intend to tackle the problem practically, to speak of the moment when people reach the limits of the mind, when they start going round in circles and find nothing; then I will tell them of zones beyond the mind, and of what can be discovered when one goes within: mental silence. Ill talk about a practical discipline. That was my idea. My idea isnt to give an abstract explanation but to take up yoga from a practical angle: try to do this, and heres what you may expectmental transformation, change in the vital, dreams, etc. All practical things. Id like to explore the psychological aspect.
Thats good. From the standpoint of the Work, of what you create, of course its very good, very interesting; it needs to be said, it MUST be said. But is the gentleman who wrote you that letter capable of understanding anything of it? Thats where I put a question mark.
--
(Satprem makes a discouraged gesture)
No, no, dont stop, go on, finish it. But they may ask you to cut it (Mother laughs)some passages will drag! Why do you dwell so much on ideas? Thats secondary!
0 1962-07-11, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
This has never happened before, its brand-new. Before, there was always that Power transmitted through the higher mind (what Sri Aurobindo calls the Overmind); it was up there, dissolving, dispersing, changing, doing a whole lot of work, without any difficulty, effortlessly (gesture above the head showing the tranquil, irresistible flowing of a stream), nothing to it. That was my constant, second-to-second action, everywhere, all the time, for everything that came to me. But THIS is completely, completely new. Its a sort of imposition, almost like an imposition on the PHYSICAL brain (I presume it must be for changing the brain cells). And I am allowed to do only one thing (Mother grips the mental construction presented to her); its right in front of me like this and wont leave me, it clings like a leech, stock-still. So I have to bring in the supreme, divine Vibration, the Vibration I experienced the other day [April 13], and hold it steadily (sometimes it takes quite a while) until all is hushed in a divine silence.
(silence)
0 1962-07-14, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
In fact, this too is tied in with to die unto death. Because, just imagine, why on earth do I invariably see the experience of the 12th to 13th on my left (gesture to the left)? And rather distant, as though I had returned along a LEVEL path (horizontal gesture) from there back to my body. Out there (to the left), I didnt have it any more! I didnt have it I existed in FULL consciousness, but I no longer had my body. Thats what makes me say my body was dead. I no longer had it. The experience was far, FAR away from here (I dont mean in the garden!) somewhere. Somewhere very far away to the left, in the physical consciousness. And when I had traveled back here along a level path, I noticed that there was still a body.2
But this body is no longer MY body it is A body.
--
Ever since Einstein's Theory of Relativity, we have known that such an experience of time's relative nature is "physically" feasible. We need only consider the example of time aboard a spaceship approaching the speed of light: time "slows down," and the same event will take less time aboard the spaceship than on earth. In this instance, speed is what makes time slow down. In Mother's experience (which is every bit as "physical"), the "intensity of the Presence" seems to be the origin of time change. In other words, consciousness is what makes time slow down. Thus we are witnessing two experiences with identical physical results, but formulated in different languages. In one, we speak of "speed," in the other of "consciousness." But what is speed, after all?... (Moreover, the implications of this "language" difference are quite colossal, for it would indeed be simpler to press on a "consciousness button" than on an accelerator that had to take us to the speed of light.) Speed is a question of distance. distance is a question of two legs or two wings: it implies a limited phenomenon or a limited being. When we say "at the speed of light," we imagine our two legs or our two wings moving very, very fast. And all the phenomena of the universe are seen and conceived of in relation to these two legs, these two wings or this rocketship they are creations of our present-day biped biology. But for a being (a supramental being, of the future biology) containing everything within himself, who is immediately everywhere, without distance, where is "speed"? ... The only "speed of light" is biped. Speed increases and time slows down, they say. The future biology says: consciousness intensifies and time slows down or ceases to exist distances are abolished, the body doesn't age. And the world's whole physical cage collapses. "Time is a rhythm of consciousness," says Mother. We change rhythm and the physical world changes. Might this be the whole problem of transformation?
Asked later about this unfinished sentence, Mother said, "I stopped because it was an impression and not a certainty. We'll talk about it again later." Was Mother hinting at a stage when she would live in both times simultaneously?...
0 1962-07-18, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But now the body the body itself, its very own selffeels it is WITHIN things or WITHIN people or WITHIN an action. There are no more limits, none of this (Mother touches the skin of her hands as if all separation had disappeared). Take this example: someone accidentally bumps me (it does happen) with an object or a part of his body. Well, it is NEVER something external: it happens INSIDE the bodys consciousness is much larger than my body. Yesterday, the table leg bumped my foot; so there was the ordinary outward reaction (it operates automatically and in a curious way the body jumped), and then the body-consciousness now I am speaking of the body-consciousness saw that an unexpected and involuntary collision of two objects had taken place INSIDE ITSELF. And it also saw that if it made a certain movement of concentration at that particular spot, inside itself, some pain or damage would result; but if it made the other movement of (how shall I put it?) of union, of abolishing all separation (which it can do very well), well, then the results of the blow would be annulled. And thats what happened, I did it. I was simply sitting down, and I let my body cope with the whole thing (while I watched with keen interest); and I noticed it really did feel the blow inside and not outsideit wasnt that something from outside had struck it, but that there had been an unexpected, or rather an unforeseen and involuntary collision of two things inside itself. And I clearly followed how the body made a more complete movement of identification (you see, someone with the sense of separation had moved the table, so the sense of separation accompanied the blow, and then of course there was all the regret,2 and so on and so forth); well, the body simply went into its usual state where theres no sense of separation, and the effect vanished instantaneously. Had I been asked, Where were you hit, what spot?, I couldnt have told, I dont know. All I know, because of words I heard spoken, is that the table leg bumped into my foot. But where? I cant say; I couldnt have said even five minutes after the incidentit had utterly disappeared, and disappeared through a VOLUNTARY movement.
This body-consciousness has a will; it is constantly, constantly calling upon the Lords will: Lord, take possession of this, take possession of that, take. Theres no question of taking possession of the will, that was done ages ago, but: Take possession of these cells, those cells, this, that. It is the BODYS aspiration. Well, the blow wasnt caused by this will acting in the body; the blow didnt come directly from the body, but from something that had slipped in through an unconscious element; and the body simply erased, or absorbed, digested this unconsciousness and the thing vanished without a trace!
And do you know how this body is? It immediately began wondering (I was quietly watching it all from above), What if (ifs are always idiotic but its an old bodily habit), what if the object had been sharp, would the results have been so easy to annul? (Mother laughs) Then I distinctly heard someone reply (I am putting it into words), You idiot! That wouldnt have happened in the first place! That is, the necessary protection would have been there. The protection intervenes only when necessary, not just for the fun of it. You numbskull, it said (I am translating freely), how silly can you be! It wouldnt have happened.
But what a world it isa world of experiences! And the consciousness is somewhere way up high but seeing very clearly, watching with interest.
0 1962-07-21, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The old way of yoga failed to bring about the harmony or unity of Spirit and life: it instead dismissed the world as Maya [Illusion] or a transient Play. The result has been loss of life-power and the degeneration of India. As was said in the Gita, These peoples would perish if I did not do worksthese peoples of India have truly gone down to ruin. A few sannyasins and bairagis [renunciants] to be saintly and perfect and liberated, a few bhaktas [lovers of God] to dance in a mad ecstasy of love and sweet emotion and Ananda [Bliss], and a whole race to become lifeless, void of intelligence, sunk in deep tamas [inertia]is this the effect of true spirituality? No, we must first attain all the partial experiences possible on the mental level and flood the mind with spiritual delight and illumine it with spiritual light, but afterwards we must rise above. If we cannot rise above, to the supramental level, that is, it is hardly possible to know the worlds final secret and the problem it raises remains unsolved. There, the ignorance which creates a duality of opposition between the Spirit and Matter, between truth of spirit and truth of life, disappears. There one need no longer call the world Maya. The world is the eternal Play of God, the eternal manifestation of the Self. Then it becomes possible to fully know and fully realize Godto do what is said in the Gita, To know Me integrally. The physical body, the life, the mind and understanding, the supermind and the Ananda these are the spirits five levels. The higher man rises on this ascent the nearer he comes to the state of that highest perfection open to his spiritual evolution. Rising to the Supermind, it becomes easy to rise to the Ananda. One attains a firm foundation in the condition of the indivisible and infinite Ananda, not only in the timeless Parabrahman [Absolute] but in the body, in life, in the world. The integral being, the integral consciousness, the integral Ananda blossoms out and takes form in life. This is the central clue of my yoga, its fundamental principle.
This is no easy change to make. After these fifteen years I am only now rising into the lowest of the three levels of the Supermind and trying to draw up into it all the lower activities. But when this siddhi will be complete, then I am absolutely certain that through me God will give to others the siddhi of the Supermind with less effort. Then my real work will begin. I am not impatient for success in the work. What is to happen will happen in Gods appointed time. I have no hasty or disorderly impulse to rush into the field of work in the strength of the little ego. Even if I did not succeed in my work I would not be shaken. This work is not mine but Gods. I will listen to no other call; when God moves me then I will move.
I know very well that Bengal is not really ready. The spiritual flood which has come is for the most part a new form of the old. It is not the real transformation. However this too was needed. Bengal has been awakening in itself the old yogas and exhausting their samskaras [old habitual tendencies], extracting their essence and with it fertilizing the soil. At first it was the time of VedantaAdwaita, Sannyasa, Shankaras Maya and the rest. It is now the turn of Vaishnava DharmaLila, love, the intoxication of emotional experience. All this is very old, unfitted for the new age and will not endure for such excitement has no capacity to last. But the merit of the Vaishnava Bhava [emotional enthusiasm] is that it keeps a connexion between God and the world and gives a meaning to life; but since it is a partial bhava the whole connexion, the full meaning is not there. The tendency to create sects which you have noticed was inevitable. The nature of the mind is to take a part and call it the whole and exclude all other parts. The Siddha [illuminated being] who brings the bhava, although he leans on its partial aspect, yet keeps some knowledge of the integral whole, even though he may not be able to give it form. But his disciples do not get that knowledge precisely because it is not in a form. They are tying up their little bundles, let them. The bundles will open of themselves when God manifests himself fully. These things are the signs of incompleteness and immaturity. I am not disturbed by them. Let the force of spirituality play in the country in whatever way and in as many sects as may be. Afterwards we shall see. This is the infancy or the embryonic condition of the new age. It is a first hint, not even the beginning.
The peculiarity of this yoga is that until there is siddhi above the foundation does not become perfect. Those who have been following my course had kept many of the old samskaras; some of them have dropped away, but others still remain. There was the samskara of Sannyasa, even the wish to create an Aravinda Math [Sri Aurobindo monastery]. Now the intellect has recognized that Sannyasa is not what is wanted, but the stamp of the old idea has not yet been effaced from the prana [breath, life energy]. And so there was next this talk of remaining in the midst of the world, as a man of worldly activities and yet a man of renunciation. The necessity of renouncing desire has been understood, but the harmony of renunciation of desire with enjoyment of Ananda has not been rightly seized by the mind. And they took up my Yoga because it was very natural to the Bengali temperament, not so much from the side of Knowledge as from the side of Bhakti and Karma [Works]. A little knowledge has come in, but the greater part has escaped; the mist of sentimentalism has not been dissipated, the groove of the sattwic bhava [religious fervor] has not been broken. There is still the ego. I am not in haste, I allow each to develop according to his nature. I do not want to fashion all in the same mould. That which is fundamental will indeed be one in all, but it will express itself in many forms. Everybody grows, forms from within. I do not want to build from outside. The basis is there, the rest will come.
What I am aiming at is not a society like the present rooted in division. What I have in view is a Samgha [community] founded in the spirit and in the image of its oneness. It is with this idea that the name Deva Samgha has been given the commune of those who want the divine life is the Deva Samgha. Such a Samgha will have to be established in one place at first and then spread all over the country. But if any shadow of egoism falls over this endeavor, then the Samgha will change into a sect. The idea may very naturally creep in that such and such a body is the one true Samgha of the future, the one and only centre, that all else must be its circumference, and that those outside its limits are not of the fold or even if they are, have gone astray, because they think differently.
--
Now let me discuss some particular points of your letter. I do not want to say much in this letter about what you have written as regards your yoga. We shall have better occasion when we meet. To look upon the body as a corpse is a sign of Sannyasa, of the path of Nirvana. You cannot be of the world with this idea. You must have delight in all thingsin the Spirit as well as in the body. The body has consciousness, it is Gods form. When you see God in everything that is in the world, when you have this vision that all this is Brahman, Sarvamidam Brahma, that Vasudeva is all thisVasudevah sarvamiti then you have the universal delight. The flow of that delight precipitates and courses even through the body. When you are in such a state, full of the spiritual consciousness, you can lead a married life, a life in the world. In all your works you find the expression of Gods delight. So far I have been transforming all the objects and perceptions of the mind and the senses into delight on the mental level. Now they are taking the form of the supramental delight. In this condition is the perfect vision and perception of Sachchidananda.
You write about the Deva Samgha and say, I am not a god, I am only a piece of much hammered and tempered iron. No one is a God but in each man there is a God and to make Him manifest is the aim of divine life. That we can all do. I recognize that there are great and small adharas [vessels]. I do not accept, however, your description of yourself as accurate. Still whatever the nature of the vessel, once the touch of God is upon it, once the spirit is awake, great and small and all that does not make much difference. There may be more difficulties, more time may be taken, there may be a difference in the manifestation, but even about that there is no certainty. The God within takes no account of these hindrances and deficiencies. He breaks his way out. Was the amount of my failings a small one? Were there less obstacles in my mind and heart and vital being and body? Did it not take time? Has God hammered me less? Day after day, minute after minute, I have been fashioned into I know not whether a god or what. But I have become or am becoming something. That is sufficient, since God wanted to build it. It is the same as regards everyone. Not our strength but the Shakti of God is the sadhaka [worker] of this yoga.
Let me tell you in brief one or two things about what I have long seen. My idea is that the chief cause of the weakness of India is not subjection nor poverty, nor the lack of spirituality or dharma [ethics] but the decline of thought-power, the growth of ignorance in the motherl and of Knowledge. Everywhere I see inability or unwillingness to thinkthought-incapacity or thought-phobia. Whatever may have been in the middle ages, this state of things is now the sign of a terrible degeneration. The middle age was the night, the time of the victory of ignorance. The modern world is the age of the victory of Knowledge. Whoever thinks most, seeks most, labors most, can fathom and learn the truth of the world, and gets so much more Shakti. If you look at Europe, you will see two things: a vast sea of thought and the play of a huge and fast-moving and yet disciplined force. The whole Shakti of Europe is in that. And in the strength of that Shakti it has been swallowing up the world, like the tapaswins [ascetics] of our ancient times, by whose power even the gods of the world were terrified, held in suspense and subjection. People say Europe is running into the jaws of destruction. I do not think so. All these revolutions and upsettings are the preconditions of a new creation.
Then look at India. Except for some solitary giants, everywhere there is your simple man, that is, the average man who does not want to think and cannot think, who has not the least Shakti but only a temporary excitement. In India, you want the simple thought, the easy word. In Europe they want the deep thought, the deep word; there even an ordinary laborer or artisan thinks, wants to know, is not satisfied with surface things but wants to go behind. But there is still this difference: there is a fatal limitation in the strength and thought of Europe. When it comes into the spiritual field, its thought-power can no longer move ahead. There Europe sees everything as riddlenebulous metaphysics, yogic hallucination. They rub their eyes as in smoke and can see nothing clear. Still, some effort is being made in Europe to surmount even this limitation. We already have the spiritual sensewe owe it to our forefa thersand whoever has that sense has at his disposal such Knowledge and Shakti as with one breath might blow away all the huge power of Europe like a blade of grass. But to get that Shakti one must be a worshiper of Shakti. We are not worshipers of Shakti. We are worshipers of the easy way. But Shakti is not to be had by the easy way. Our forefa thers dived into a sea of vast thought and gained a vast Knowledge and established a mighty civilization. As they went on in their way, fatigue and weariness came upon them. The force of thought diminished and with it also the strong current of Shakti. Our civilization has become an achalayatana [prison], our religion a bigotry of externals, our spirituality a faint glimmer of light or a momentary wave of religious intoxication. And so long as this sort of thing continues, any permanent resurgence of India is improbable
In Bengal this weakness has gone to the extreme. The Bengali has a quick intelligence, emotional capacity and intuition. He is foremost in India in all these qualities. All of them are necessary but they do not suffice. If to these there were added depth of thought, calm strength, heroic courage and a capacity for and pleasure in prolonged labor, the Bengali might be a leader not only of India, but of mankind. But he does not want that, he wants to get things done easily, to get knowledge without thinking, the fruits without labor, siddhi by an easy sadhana [ discipline]. His stock is the excitement of the emotional mind. But excess of emotion, empty of knowledge, is the very symptom of the malady. In the end it brings about fatigue and inertia. The country has been constantly and gradually going down. The life-power has ebbed away. What has the Bengali come to in his own country? He cannot get enough food to eat or clothes to wear, there is lamentation on all sides, his wealth, his trade and commerce, his lands, his very agriculture have begun to pass into the hands of others. We have abandoned the sadhana of Shakti and Shakti has abandoned us. We do the sadhana of Love, but where Knowledge and Shakti are not, there Love does not remain, there narrowness and littleness come, and in a little and narrow mind there is no place for Love. Where is Love in Bengal? There is more quarreling, jealousy, mutual dislike, misunderstanding and faction there than anywhere else even in India which is so much afflicted by division.
In the noble heroic age of the Aryan people4 there was not so much shouting and gesticulating, but the endeavor they undertook remained steadfast through many centuries. The Bengalis endeavor lasts only for a day or two.
You say that what is needed is maddening enthusiasm, to fill the country with emotional excitement. In the time of the Swadeshi [fight for independence, boycott of English goods] we did all that in the field of politics, but what we did is all now in the dust. Will there be a more favorable result in the spiritual field? I do not say there has been no result. There has been. Any movement will produce some result, but for the most part in terms of an increase of possibility. This is not the right method, however, to steadily actualize the thing. Therefore I no longer wish to make emotional excitement or any intoxication of the mind the base. I wish to make a large and strong equanimity the foundation of the yoga. I want established on that equality a full, firm and un disturbed Shakti in the system and in all its movements. I want the wide display of the light of Knowledge in the ocean of Shakti. And I want in that luminous vastness the tranquil ecstasy of infinite Love, Delight and Oneness. I do not want hundreds of thousands of disciples. It will be enough if I can get a hundred complete men, purified of petty egoism, who will be the instruments of God. I have no faith in the customary trade of the guru. I do not wish to be a guru. If anybody wakes and manifests from within his slumbering godhead and gets the divine lifebe it at my touch or at anothersthis is what I want. It is such men that will raise the country.
You must not think from all this lecture that I despair of the future of Bengal. I too hope, as they say, that this time a great light will manifest itself in Bengal. Still I have tried to show the other side of the shield, where the fault is, the error, the deficiency. If these remain, the light will not be a great light and it will not be permanent.
0 1962-07-25, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
But whenever there was unpleasantness with my relatives, with playmates or friends, I would feel all the nastiness or bad willall sorts of pretty ugly things that came (I was rather sensitive, for I instinctively nurtured an ideal of beauty and harmony, which all the circumstances of life kept denying) so whenever I felt sad, I was most careful not to say anything to my mother or father, because my father didnt give a hoot and my mother would scold me that was always the first thing she did. And so I would go to my room and sit down in my little armchair, and there I could concentrate and try to understand in my own way. And I remember that after quite a few probably fruitless attempts I wound up telling myself (I always used to talk to myself; I dont know why or how, but I would talk to myself just as I talked to others): Look here, you feel sad because so-and-so said something really disgusting to you but why does that make you cry? Why are you so sad? Hes the one who was bad, so he should be crying. You didnt do anything bad to him. Did you tell him nasty things? Did you fight with her, or with him? No, you didnt do anything, did you; well then, you neednt feel sad. You should only be sad if youve done something bad, but. So that settled it: I would never cry. With just a slight inward movement, or something that said, Youve done no wrong, there was no sadness.
But there was another side to this someone: it was watching me more and more, and as soon as I said one word or made one gesture too many, had one little bad thought, teased my brother or whatever, the smallest thing, it would say (Mother takes on a severe tone), Look out, be careful! At first I used to moan about it, but by and by it taught me: Dont lamentput right, mend. And when things could be mendedas they almost always could I would do so. All that on a five to seven-year-old childs scale of intelligence.
--
So, when youre told become conscious of your psychic being, its for the being formed by external Nature to contact the divine Presence through the psychic being. Then the psychic takes charge of the whole being; in fact, it is the inner Guide. Well, when I was a little child, this person (which wasnt a person, but an expression of a certain consciousness and will) was actually the psychic presence; there was something else behind, but thats a rather special case. And what happened to me happens to everyone whose psychic being has deliberately incarnated: the psychic being guides your life, and if you let it act freely, it arranges ALL circumstancesits truly wonderful! I have seennot only for myself but for so many people who also had conscious psychic beings that everything is arranged with a view to not at all your personal egoistic satisfaction, but your ultimate progress and realization. And all circumstances of life, even those you call disastrous, are there to lead you where you have to go as swiftly as possible.
Yours is more than a psychic being. As I have told you, your psychic being is accompanied by something which has come for a special purpose, with a particular intellectual powera luminous, conscious powerwhich has come from regions higher than the mind, regions Sri Aurobindo calls the Overmind, to do a special work. It is here (gesture enveloping the chest and head) and, along with the psychic, its trying to organize everything. This, in your psychic, is what you are feeling. It must have great power. Dont you feel a kind of luminous force?
--
That must be why I cant distinguish between the Force coming from above and the Force coming from within.
A time comes when you dont make this distinction any more.2
Thats why its hard for me to speak about it; I dont know whats coming from above and whats coming from below.
--
Anyway, the periods of my life have been as clear as could be, distinctly defined, preparing everything for my coming here.
Many, many things in my life have completely vanished I dont remember them any more, theyre gone from my consciousness everything that was useless. But there is a very clear vision of everything that was preparing the jiva for its action here. Even before coming and meeting Sri Aurobindo, I had realized everything needed to begin his yoga. It was all ready, classified, organized. Magnificent! A superb mental construction which he demolished within five minutes!
--
And I was very careful not to disturb it; I held it like that for I dont know how long, eight or ten days. Nothingnot one idea, not one thought, nothinga complete BLANK. In other words, from the outside, it must have looked like total idiocy.
But I was living in my inner joynothing stirring. I spoke as little as possible and it was like something mechanical, it wasnt me. Then slowly, slowly, as though falling drop by drop, something was built up again. But it had no limits, it had no it was vast as the universe and wonderfully still and luminous. Nothing here (the head), but THERE (gesture above the head); and then everything began to be seen from there.
--
Mother is referring to a letter of Sri Aurobindo's which Satprem had quoted in his manuscript: "... in the calm mind, it is the substance of the mental being that is still, so still that nothing disturbs it. If thoughts or activities come, they do not rise at all out of the mind, but they come from outside and cross the mind as a flight of birds crosses the sky in a windless air. It passes, disturbs nothing, leaving no trace. Even if a thousand images or the most violent events pass across it, the calm stillness remains as if the very texture of the mind were a substance of eternal and indestructible peace. A mind that has achieved this calmness can begin to act, even intensely and powerfully, but it will keep its fundamental stillnessoriginating nothing from itself but receiving from Above and giving it a mental form without adding anything of its own, calmly, dispassionately, though with the joy of the Truth and the happy power and light of its passage."
Cent. Ed., XXIII. 637.
0 1962-07-31, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Heres what he says: I read with great interest the Introduction to your new book on Shri Aurobindo. I must confess that if I have been late in replying it is because I am still very hesitant. The text reads well, but it leaves doubts as to how well the book that follows will conform to the norms of our Spiritual Masters series. I greatly fear that we will both end up disappointed again. The book you want to write is, I feel, very personal, whereas this series must consist of books which are essentially expositions, introductions, tools of information: etc.
(After a silence) I am getting a sort of indication: when I turn the beacon to this side, the resistance suddenly seems to give waythere must be a means of making it give way.
--
But Ive tried to be as concrete as possible! Like cutting up a rat on a dissecting table to see whats inside it.
They would already have to be well advanced.
0 1962-08-04, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Ive been observing all this in a neuro-physical realm, subtle-physical, that is but its still physical and in a complete mental silence where all judgments (you know, judgments) have disappeared, along with a certain way of observing things. Thats why I cant talk about it.
These vibrations have various qualities; if they were expressed through a mental observation, it would be done through such things as taste, color, and so forth, everything Ive just mentioned1but thats not how theyre expressed. They come almost exclusively as sensations, but those sensations some, I mean some vibrations, have rounded edges. Some come horizontally (I was in fact studying everything that comes horizontally), others result from the state of consciousness (vertical gesture from top to bottom). While at the same time, others are. Yes, its like looking through a high-powered microscope: some are rounded, others pointed; some are darker, some brighter. Some are very upsetting to the body, and some even feel dangerous. On the other hand, certain ones make the body receptive to the vibration, which we might call the Lords Vibration, the supreme Vibration. You see, all this is the outcome of a discipline, a tapasya, for preparing the body to receive the Lords Vibrations (the first step is receiving, being able to receive them; afterwards you have to hold on to and then manifest them). Those vibrations are unmistakable, they are something else entirely. But other vibrations are helpful, beneficial, while still others are disruptive, contradictory.
And each one is beginning to reveal its own particular nature. There are those stemming from peoples thoughts (I sense them in my body, not in the mind: the material consequence of peoples psychological state, and even their state of health). Some things are general and last a bit longer; others are momentary, lasting only a few seconds. The first step is to study the different vibrational qualitiesyou could practically draw diagrams: if we had a machine sensitive enough to record these things, it would produce all kinds of zigs and zags.2 Certain vibrations immediately stop or change or are dissolved or repelled. Others are adopted, as it were, and transformed. The majority are simply pushed back and worked on from a distancequite a distance! I keep them at a fair distance (Mother laughs). Very few are let in. But some are let in for the sake of the experience, to see how much they upset the body. Theres also the effect of peoples permanent auras: I know a certain person is arriving by his auras effect on the body; because (laughing) each vibration has its particular effect on the bodyperfectly prosaic things, maybe, but by studying them you realize that each thing has its own law.
The interchange of vibrations among people is something tremendous, and were swimming in it all, all, all the timeeven when were alone! Because these things travel: for instance, its enough for someones thought to come and strike against yours, and for you to think of him (which means responding)there is an immediate effect in the body. So to imagine that solitude would make yoga any easier is sheer chil dishness.
--
And then theres a first small beginning, quite small, indicating how the Power will function. But its (Mother gestures into the far distance) its merely a slight tinge.
But when it functions, things will really start moving.
0 1962-08-08, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I am making some interesting discoveries. They arent really discoveries, but nowadays none of these things are theoretical, not the least bit mental (the mind is in a quiet ease)theyre essentially practical. And they take unexpected forms. The other day as I was walking, an old formation suddenly popped up, some. thing that had already tried to materialize when Sri Aurobindo was still here, but which he had stopped. It was one possibility among innumerable others, trying to manifest in this bodys existence I wont say what it is.
It was one of the very saddest things that could manifest physically in association with a spiritual life.
--
And I have noticed that now. You see, the body used to be like a little child, complaining when things werent right; it wouldnt revolt, but it moaned. But this time its only reaction was, Why am I not transformed? Why am I not transformed? I want to be transformed, I want to be transformed. Not with words, because there was nothing mental about it, but simply with a kind of tension the tension you feel when the door to the psychic being is shut and you push, push, push to get to the other side. The same thing, the same kind of tension: pushing, pushing, pushing towards what? I dont know. We call it the transformation because we dont know what it isif we did know, it would mean we had already begun to realize it. Theres a faint impression of what that state could be (but its very, very faint). And theres this feeling of tension, of pushingpleading and imploring. That was the bodys only reaction this time, nothing else, not even any sorrow. Because at one time something like fifty years agoit used to say, Why do I deserve this? and similar stupidities; thats been gone for more than fifty years. Then for a long while after, something disordered, unharmonious or nasty could bring me sorrow; thats gone too. But thats recent, it disappeared with the experience of April 13. And now: transformation, transformation, transformation; thats the only idea left, the only will.
(silence)
--
Ive had this great formative power ever since my earliest childhood, but I had channeled it and stopped it because I considered it useless. But it came back recently, along with the sure sign that it was coming from the very highest origin: This is it, this is how things will be. But thats for later, of course. To our external reason, those things seem totally unrealizable, but they will be realizable in perhaps a few hundred years, I dont knowits the future being prepared. And indeed, that vision has a tremendous power of creation and realization, and it is always felt physically (the rest is very still), its always physical. But it triggered a kind of very rapid movement of the physical consciousness (within the most material substance), and caused a dislocation. And so2 the day before yesterday, that old formation suddenly returned and made me understand one aspect of the bodys nature, the way the body is CONSTRUCTED and the usefulness of that construction. So now things are all right. It has been one more step.
But when you receive those bad vibrations affecting your body,3 are they exhausted by your accepting them?
0 1962-08-11, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Its a sort of reply to something I am translating in The Synthesis of Yoga. You know, there are these three aspects that must always be kept united in ones consciousness: jiva (the individual), Shakti, and Ishwara (the Supreme). He gives a wonderful description of how we have all three together in a kind of inner hierarchy. So while reading that (as I translate I have all the experiences, they come spontaneously), I kept saying to myself, No, that jiva hampers me; that jiva hems me in! Its not natural to me. Whats natural to me is its probably Mahashakti. There is always that sense of creative Power, and of the Lord. The infinite, marvelous, innumerable joy of the Lord, you see, which is so intermingled with the Poweryou can sense the presence of the Lord, yet you cannot distinguish or differentiate between the two. Its all a delectable play. So to introduce the individual, the jiva, into this spoils everything, makes everything so small!
I wanted to put all this into my sentence.
--
And its there all the time! I saw it the other day, I am seeing it nowit seems to be a permanent feature. And its the origin of all intellectual formulations (those closest to the Truth, of course, with no distortion). Very interesting.
***
--
For I got up, walked around, washed and so onnothing could shake That; everything went smoothly, they [Mothers activities] didnt take up any room, (laughing) they were off somewhere and didnt disrupt anything!
And I see nothing but THATthat Consciousness. Its a Consciousness, a Presence. And all, all is there, you see, all is there together, the Power, the Presence, the Consciousness, that joy and Love. And all of that together almost gives the impression of a Form, that Vibration of golden light, a crimson-gold which is the most material supramental lighta Form. A Form, and no formyet its a Form!
0 1962-08-14, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The curves of life go this way and that (meandering gesture), and only by being the supramental arrow can you go beyond. What happened [with X] was necessary. But theres a step that goes beyond holding a grudge against someone because you were mistaken about him. Thats such an ordinary human thingits nonsense. Thats how it is, though. He is what he is and has been all alonghe has never pretended to be anything else. But (with an ironic smile for Satprem) the imagination has done a lot of gilding where there was nothing to begin with, and then through circumstances (which always result from the influence of consciousness), the gilding disappeared! But whatever you sincerely felt for him that wasnt the product of an effervescent imaginationall sincere feelingsshould remain.1
But they do!
--
The feeling is rather one of vibrations gathered together and coagulated somewhere and even at that, theres a very supple inner play, for it spreads out like this (Mother makes a gesture of diffusion or expansion all around her) through a sort of subtilization or etherization. And its limitlesshow could it have any limits! It goes like this (same radiating gesture)these same vibrations are everywhere, in all bodies and all things. What people call this body is merely the result of a willed concentration organized in a specific way; thats how it spontaneously feels, all the time (not that its observing itself, but if something forces it to observe itself, thats what it spontaneously feels). And the delimitation that exists in all beings, and which WAS in this body (was it this body? Havent the cells changed? I dont know), which once existed in what people call this body, has completely disappeared. Before (thirty years or so ago), it used to feel like something separate moving among other separate things thats all gone.
I have tried several times, telling myself, Ah, lets have a good lookis there anything, anywhere, that feels that separation? (I am looking at the body from above.) Theres nothingtruly? Are you one hundred percent spontaneously sincere? Nothing at all? Its impossible to find a thing. Impossible.
--
And thats what makes the ESSENTIAL difference for this body. Thats why it feels different from other bodies. Its (Mother shakes her head) no, its not the same thing, it distinctly feels its not the samebecause its reactions are different!
Perhaps there once was a jiva. I dont know, I dont remember; all I remember now is ultimately, an evolving universe, with a special concentration on the affairs of the earth, because the Lord has decided that the time has come to to change something. Thats all. To change something.
--
It seems he said that if we could make it to 1964, afterwards the difficulties would disappear. (But this is a very strong formationwhat did he pick up? Is it Sri Aurobindos formation? Is it the boys thought, or what?) But hes a wonderful mind-reader; he must have a marvelous power of vision in the mental world.
It really amused me. If you asked if you asked people here, not too many would have such a clear idea: They have come to do something entirely new and very difficult.
0 1962-08-31, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Its not sleep, its a kind of peace that descends. It can begin as drowsiness, but it changes into a sort of inner immobilityimmobility of the Spirit. The body too becomes quiet, quiet, quiet, very still; and from there, if nothing disturbs you, you flow into a sense of eternity. Its a wonderful experience. The real sense of Eternity: everything stops, and then NOTHING. And if you have the gift of vision (its not necessary, but if you do), you see it all grow white and luminousall white. But that may well not happen because its its something youre born with.
All the cells open up and become conscious of their eternity.
--
Yes, I told him, its like a jugglers lifeyou go from fairground to fairground, displaying your feats of skill! (Laughter.)
But its true!
--
It can be, its possible. Its possible, I dont say it isnt; it is possible, it can happen, but more and more, the life allotted to this body is to do things without knowing it, to change the world without seeing it, and to to ignore all that, to be absolutely unconcerned with the results. And (to be perfectly explicit) I have a feeling that to have access to the highest and purest Power, the very notion of result must disappear completely the Supreme Power has no sense of result AT ALL. The sense of result is yet another rift between the essential, supreme Power, and the consciousness. In other words, its because the consciousness begins to separate slightly [from its identity with the Supreme Power], that the sense of result is created, but otherwise it doesnt exist.
Its as if everything had to be to be the Action, the eternal Action at each second of the Manifestation THE thing. At each pulsationwhich corresponds to time in the ManifestationTHAT alone is THE thing. And the idea of something having a result is already a distortion.
Uninterrupted, with one link the link of supreme Eternity. But the sense of consequences is false, it already implies a lowering of consciousness. So for meeven physically, in the midst of this whole hodgepodge of confusion, ignorance and stupidityit all translates into: I do things, and the results are none of my business. Thats how its expressed here in the body.
0 1962-09-05, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
(Satprem reads a passage from his manuscript in which he speaks of illnesses, including yogic illnesses, that can result from some inner discrepancy when the various parts of the consciousness are unevenly developed.)
These illnesses are not of the same nature as the others, because GENERALLY (I am not making any absolute rule), generally their origin is not found to be viruses or bacteria, but a kind of disorder what is it called? They have a splendid word for it now. You know, an incapacity to bear something, a lack of harmony.
Allergy?
Thats it. And then illnesses related to colloidal disorders (blood, for example, is a colloidal fluid): when the component elements cease to combine in the normal and natural way. Both are newly recognized causes of illness. And they usually (I dont say in every case) result from what is called an inner discrepancy; that is, when the different parts of the being have not reached the same level of development, things of that nature may crop up.
With very few exceptions, these illnesses are not found to originate from germs, microbes or bacteria. They are frequently classified as mental illnesses, nervous disorders, etc., and they result from that inner discrepancy.
***
--
I feel that nothings happening, thats the discouraging thing.
Of course! I too went through a very long period when I believed nothing was happening.
--
For a long, long time, that was also the one thing I felt was worth living forConsciousness. When I met Thon and came to understand the mechanism, I also understood why I wasnt conscious at a certain level. I think Ive told you how I spent ten months one year working to connect two layerstwo layers of consciousness; the contact wasnt established and so I couldnt have the spontaneous experience of a whole spectrum of things. Madame Thon told me, Its because theres an undeveloped layer between this part and that part. I was very conscious of all the gradations: Thon had explained it all in the simplest terms, so you didnt need to be, as I said, a genius to understand. He had made a quadruple division, and each of them was divided into four, and then again into four, making innumerable divisions of the being; but with that mental simplification you could make in-depth psychological studies of your own being. And so by observation and elimination I eventually discovered that between this and that (gesture indicating two levels of Mothers consciousness), there was an undeveloped layerit wasnt conscious. So I worked for ten months on nothing but that: absolutely no results. I didnt care, I kept right on, telling myself, Well, it may take me fifty years to get anywhere, who knows. And then I left for the country (I was living in Paris at the time). I lay down on the grass, and all at once, with the contact of earth and grass, poof! There was a sort of inner explosion the link was established, and full consciousness came, along with all the ensuing experiences. Well, I said to myself, it was worth all the trouble!
And I am sure thats how the work is done, slowly, imperceptibly, like a chick being formed in the egg: you see the shell, you see only the shell, you dont know whats inside, whether its just an egg or a chick (normally, I meanof course, you could see through with special instruments) and then the beak goes peck-peck! And then cheep! Out comes the chick, just like that. Its the same thing exactly for the contact with the psychic being. For months on end, sometimes years, you may be sitting before a closed door, push, push, pushing, and feeling, feeling the pressure (it hurts!), and theres nothing, no results. Then all at once, you dont know why or how, you sit down and poof! Everything bursts wide open, everything is ready, everything is doneits over, you emerge into a full psychic consciousness and become intimate with your psychic being. Then everything changeseverything changesyour life completely changes, its a total reversal of your whole existence.
In the end, its best not to worry, not to get agitated or depressed (thats the worst of all), not to get worked up or impatient or disgustedjust be calm and say, It will come when it comes, but with an unyielding stubbornness. Do what you feel has to be done, and keep on with it, keep on even if it seems utterly futile.
But if I only had a method!
--
But one has to. Look, its the same as for japa. Your japa is given to you, isnt it? You receive it (unless you find it on your own, but thats harder and already requires another level of realization); you receive your japa along with the power to do it but you have to learn how to do it, right? For a long while you dont fully succeed; all sorts of things happenyou forget it right in the middle or fall asleep or grow tired, get a headache, all sorts of things; or even outer circumstances interfere and disturb you. Well, here its the same: you tell yourself, Ill do it, and you will do it, even if. You have to go at it just like a mule: everything blocks the way but you keep going. You said youd do it and you will do it. There are no results I dont care. Everything is against me I dont care. I said Id do it and I will I said Id do it and I will. And you keep on going like that.
Its the same thing in your case. It depends on what you want to achieve. Simply what I told you about sleep or resting, for example, ought to be enough. On that, you base your own disciplineor on words that were uttered, or gestures that were made, or ideas youve received. You establish your own discipline. And once you have chosen your discipline, you keep on with it.
Thats my experience.
--
This "elsewhere" which is neither "higher" nor "deeper within" seems to correspond to the displacement along a LEVEL path Mother was speaking of: the other Matter.
See conversation of July 14, 1962
0 1962-09-08, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Its a strange sensation, a bizarre perception of both the true functioning and the functioning distorted by the sense of being an individual body. Theyre not even you cant even say theyre superimposed, theyre almost simultaneous, and thats why it is so hard to explain. A number of things are malfunctioning in the body; I dont know if they can be called illnesses (maybe the doctors would call them illnesses), but in any case, theyre malfunctionings in the bodys organs: the heart, the stomach, the intestines, the lungs and so on. And at the same time theres (it cant be called a functioning) the true state. And thus certain disorders appear only when the consciousness as if the consciousness were pulled or pushed or poised in a certain way, and then, those malfunctionings INSTANTLY appearnot as a consequence: I mean the consciousness becomes aware of their existence. And if the consciousness stays in that position long enough, there are what we conventionally call consequences: the malfunctioning has its consequences (tiny things, such as physical discomforts, for instance). And if through (is it yogic discipline, is it the Lords intervention? Call it what you will) but if the consciousness regains its true position, the consequences cease IMMEDIATELY. Sometimes, though, its like this (Mother makes a gesture of an overlapping or interpenetration by interlacing the fingers of her two hands), in other words, this way, then that, this way, then that (Mother slips the fingers of her right hand back and forth through the fingers of her left to show the consciousness alternating between two states), this position, then that position, this one, then that one. This movement takes only a few seconds, so I can almost perceive the two functionings simultaneously. Thats what gave me the knowledge of the process, otherwise I wouldnt understand; I would simply think I am falling from one state into another. Thats not it, its just. The substance, the vibrations, everything is probably following its normal course, you see, and all that is really changing is the way consciousness perceives things.
So pushing this knowledge to its limit that is, applying it generallylife (what we usually call life, the physical life of the body) and death are THE SAME THING, simultaneous its just that the consciousness moves back and forth, back and forth (same gesture). I dont know if I am making myself clear. But its fantastic.
--
This would tend to show. I dont know if we can generalize or if this is just one special case being worked out (I cant say), but theres a very distinct impression that what ordinary human consciousness perceives as death might simply be that the consciousness hasnt been brought back to its true position fast enough.
I am quite aware that all this must seem confusing; I can feel how inadequate the words and expression are for describing the experience. When you want to be literary, you say its a reversal of consciousness but it isnt! Thats just literature.
Although perhaps it means we are drawing closer to the knowledge of the thingby knowledge I mean the power to change it, of course. If you have power over something, its because you know it; knowing a thing means being able to create it, or change it, to make it last or cease to bein other words it is Power. Thats what knowing means. All the rest is explanations the mind gives to itself. And I can feel that something (something! Well, what Sri Aurobindo calls the Lord of Yoga: the part of the Supreme concerned with terrestrial evolution) is leading me towards the discovery of that Power that Knowledgenaturally by the only possible means: experience. And with great care, for I can feel that.
Its going as fast as it possibly can.
Outwardly, of course, these troubles (these apparent troubles) upset people, especially the doctor! Ive explained to him that it was all yoga and transformation, and he shouldnt worry, but evidently its upsetting to ordinary eyes. One fact in particular is bewildering to ordinary vision: I am very, very regularly losing weight. Its already down to a ridiculous figure I weigh only 85 pounds! With my height and bone structure, my normal weight should be 130 pounds; when I was twenty-five I weighed 130 or 135. Now I am down to only 85, and its going down quite regularly. I understand how disturbing this might be for people who see things in the ordinary way! I dont eat much (not a little, not a lot, just average), and I dont seem to benefit from what I eat thats how it looks on the surface. And then there are these strange phenomena; I dont usually talk about them (youre the only one I have explained them to, nobody else), I dont talk about them, but from time to time I appear to I must appear to be fainting. And not in the usual way, you know, thats the thing! Nothing happens in the usual way, so its very upsetting! (Mother laughs) The Energy is tremendous, more tremendous than it has ever been; and there is practically no physical strength. I can act, but only if I bring in the Energy: the least physical act demands the Energy. I think the body is completely flimsy; it seems sometimes I touch it to see if its still if its hard or if its soft!
(silence)
--
Theres another man whose disciples say has been living for a hundred and fifty-four years; Ill show you his photo (Mother goes to look for the photo). D. goes to see him twice a month, and yesterday or the day before, he said to D., You know, the greatest miracle I know of is having been able to gather more than a thousand people together for a spiritual undertaking! (Mother laughs wholeheartedly) Its funny! One thousand two hundred people is the Ashrams official figure. Having been able to draw together a group of more than one thousand two hundred people for a spiritual undertaking!
He said he would come here when I called for him; I sent him word that I wouldnt call himbecause I cant disturb such an old man and not even be able to see him!
(Mother looks at the photo) He looks like a good man.
--
Thats it, he feels that if youre not doing the things he said the way he said to do them, youve fallen from the path. He cant understand. Its no use discussing it.
Hes not happy with me!
0 1962-09-15, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
There are a few original fragments left from what was published I distributed almost all of them; the ink has faded, its practically white. I burned everything.
Its really a shame.
0 1962-09-22, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Theyre really smacking their lips over their ahimsa1its disgusting!
***
--
In the middle of the First World War, Sri Aurobindo noted with prophetic force: The defeat of Germany could not of itself kill the spirit then incarnate in Germany; it may well lead merely to a new incarnation of it, perhaps in some other race or empire, and the whole battle would then have to be fought over again. So long as the old gods are alive, the breaking or depression of the body which they animate is a small matter, for they know well how to transmigrate. Germany overthrew the Napoleonic spirit in France in 1813 and broke the remnants of her European leadership in 1870; the same Germany became the incarnation of that which it had overthrown. The phenomenon is easily capable of renewal on a more formidable scale.2 Today we are finding that the old gods know how to transmigrate. Gandhi himself, seeing all those years of nonviolence culminate in the terrible violence that marked Indias partition in 1947, ruefully observed shortly before his death: The attitude of violence which we have secretly harboured now recoils on us, and makes us fly at each others throats when the question of distribution of power arises. Now that the burden of subjection is lifted, all the forces of evil have come to the surface. For neither nonviolence nor violence touch upon the root of Evil.
Ahimsa: nonviolence.
0 1962-09-26, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
I am unfamiliar with the purely Hindu traditions, but the gods are the beings the Vedas and people of Vedic times were in touch wi that least I think so. I learned what I know about the gods before coming here, through the other tradition, the Chaldean. But Thon used to say that this tradition and the Vedic (which he knew well) were outgrowths of a more ancient tradition common to both. The story goes, according to him, that the first Emanations, who were perfectly independent, separated themselves from the Supreme in their action, creating all the disorder thats what caused the creations disorder. Afterwards the gods were emanated, to repair the evil that had been wrought and to organize the world according to the supreme Will. Of course, this is a childlike way of putting it, but its comprehensible. So all these gods work in harmony and order. Thats what the ancient tradition says.
As far as Ive understood, the Indian tradition has embraced everything that came from the first Emanations, since all the gods of destruction, of unconsciousness and of suffering are included in its pantheon.
--
But this overmental region, this region of the gods with the power to govern the universe and, PARTIALLY, the earth, does have its own reality. You can come into contact with it and use it; the Vedic forefa thers used it, occultists use it, even Tantrics use it. But theres another path which, distrusting the gods, bypasses them through a kind of intellectual asceticism, as it were, wary of forms, of images, and differing expressions, which rises straight as an arrow, proud and pure, towards the supramental Light. That is a living experience.
Sri Aurobindo preached the integral yoga which includes everything, so one can have all the experiences. Indeed, the universe was clearly created as a field of experience. Some people prefer the short, straight and narrow paths thats their business. Others like to dawdle along the wayand thats their business! And some are drawn to have all the experiences, and thus they often wander for a long time through the overmental world. And of course, the vast majority of those who have RELIGIOUS aspirations are thus put in touch with various deities, where they stopits enough for them.
--
The experience of the gods has never been more than a distraction for mean amusement, a pleasant diversion; none of it seems essential or in dispensable. You can treat yourself to the luxury of all these experiences, and they increase your knowledge and your power, your this and your that, but its not particularly important. THE thing is altogether different.
We can do without the gods. We can have access to the Supermind without any of these experiences, theyre not in dispensable. But if you want to know and experience the universe, if you want to be identified with the Supreme in His expression, well, all this is part of His expression, in varying degrees and with varying powers. Its all part of His experience. So why not treat yourself to that luxury? Its very interesting, very interesting but not in dispensable.
0 1962-10-06, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
When I speak of the world of Oneness I dont merely mean having the sense that all is one and that everything takes place within that One. What I mean by Oneness is that you cant distinguish between conceiving the action, the will to act, the action itself, and the result. Its. All is one, simultaneous.
But how? It cant be explainedit simply cant! You can get a glimpse of the experience, but ultimately, its inexpressible, we have no means to express it.
0 1962-10-12, #Agenda Vol 03, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
Theres a person I wont name who has read Sri Aurobindos books and thought he understood them. He has been following a yogic discipline (anyway, he thought he was doing yoga) and he pulled down the Force. The Force responded (Mother laughs). He wound up with a headache! He got frightened and wrote to me in these exact words: This Force is the Lords Force (which is true, quite true), and it has turned into fear. So (Mother laughs) fear is the Lords principal perversion. There you have it. He read in books that the Lord is behind everything, that there is nothing that isnt the Lord; so its the Lord who has become perverted in His manifestation, naturally. The Force of the Lord came to help him and was changed into fear, so the Lords principal perversion is fear!
If you read that, youd say he was going off his rocker.
--
One sometimes even goes to a great deal of trouble to explain things to Him: Its this way, You see, thats how it is. And when youre finished, you realize. Oh, that reminds me of an experience I had one night two years ago. It was the first time the Supermind entered the cells of my body, and it had risen up to the brain. So the brain found itself in the presence of something (laughing) considerably more powerful than it was used to receiving! And, like the idiot it is, it got worried. As for me (gesture above or beyond), I saw it all, I saw that the brain was getting worried, so I tried to tell it what a nitwit it was and to just keep still. It did keep still, but you know, it was really seething away in there, as if it were about to explode. So I said, All right now, lets go see Sri Aurobindo and ask him what to do. Immediately everything became utterly calm and I woke up in Sri Aurobindos house in the subtle physicala very material sensation, with everything quite concrete. So I arrived, or rather not I but the body-consciousness arrived2 and started explaining to Sri Aurobindo what had happenedit was very excited, talking and talking. The response was a sort of inscrutable smile and then nothing. He simply looked. An inscrutable smilenot a word. All the excitement died away. A face out of eternity. The excitement died away. Then it was time for Sri Aurobindos lunch (people eat therein another way). So as not to disturb him, I went into the next room. He came in after some time and stood before me (Imy physical being, that is, my physical consciousness had had time to calm down). I knelt down and took his hand (a MUCH clearer sensation than anything physical, mon petit!); I kissed his hand. He simply said, Oh! This is better. (Mother laughs.)
I am skipping all the details (it was a long thing, lasting an hour), but suddenly he went out of the room, leaving me alone (after expressing what he wanted to tell me with a gesture, which I understood). And then I simply seemed to take a step (gesture of crossing a threshold), and I found myself lying in my bed again. And at that moment I said to myself, Really! We make all kinds of complications, and its so simple: you just have to go like this (same gesture) and there you are; then you go like that (same gesture in the opposite direction) and youre back here.
--
It is quite remarkable that it was the body-consciousness that discoverednine years after his passingSri Aurobindo's abode (experience of July 24-25, 1959). The world where Mother went is thus a material world, not an "inner" world. The other Matter, the true Matter? We recall that in her very last Playground class, on November 28, 1958, Mother said: "Through each individual formation, physical substance progresses, and one day it will be able to build a bridge between physical life as we know it and the supramental life that is to manifest."
***
--- Overview of noun dis
The noun dis has 1 sense (no senses from tagged texts)
1. Dis, Orcus ::: (god of the underworld; counterpart of Greek Pluto)
--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun dis
1 sense of dis
Sense 1
Dis, Orcus
INSTANCE OF=> Roman deity
=> deity, divinity, god, immortal
=> spiritual being, supernatural being
=> belief
=> content, cognitive content, mental object
=> cognition, knowledge, noesis
=> psychological feature
=> abstraction, abstract entity
=> entity
--- Hyponyms of noun dis
--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun dis
1 sense of dis
Sense 1
Dis, Orcus
INSTANCE OF=> Roman deity
--- Coordinate Terms (sisters) of noun dis
1 sense of dis
Sense 1
Dis, Orcus
-> Roman deity
=> faun
HAS INSTANCE=> Venus, Urania
HAS INSTANCE=> Mors
HAS INSTANCE=> Mars
HAS INSTANCE=> Diana
HAS INSTANCE=> Minerva
HAS INSTANCE=> Saturn
HAS INSTANCE=> Ceres
HAS INSTANCE=> Nox, Night
HAS INSTANCE=> Cupid, Amor
HAS INSTANCE=> Sol
HAS INSTANCE=> Vulcan
HAS INSTANCE=> Mercury
HAS INSTANCE=> Janus
HAS INSTANCE=> Juno
HAS INSTANCE=> Vesta
=> Parcae
HAS INSTANCE=> Victoria
HAS INSTANCE=> Faunus
HAS INSTANCE=> Neptune
HAS INSTANCE=> Proserpina, Proserpine
HAS INSTANCE=> Dis, Orcus
HAS INSTANCE=> Luna
HAS INSTANCE=> Aurora
HAS INSTANCE=> Tellus
HAS INSTANCE=> Fortuna
HAS INSTANCE=> Jupiter, Jove
HAS INSTANCE=> Ops
HAS INSTANCE=> Sylvanus, Silvanus
--- Grep of noun dis
abies grandis
alnus veridis
anthonomus grandis
astreus pteridis
atrium cordis
brassica perviridis
brassica rapa perviridis
bufo viridis
cassia grandis
charybdis
citrus grandis
corylus avellana grandis
crotalus viridis
dis
disa
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disablement
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disassortative mating
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disburser
disc
disc brake
disc drive
disc harrow
disc jockey
disc pack
disc space
discant
discard
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discharge
discharge lamp
discharge pipe
discina
discina macrospora
disciotis venosa
disciple
disciples of christ
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disciplinarian
discipline
disclaimer
disclosure
disco
disco biscuit
disco music
discocephali
discoglossidae
discography
discoid lupus erythematosus
discoloration
discolouration
discombobulation
discomfited
discomfiture
discomfort
discomposure
discomycete
discomycetes
disconcertion
disconcertment
disconnect
disconnectedness
disconnection
disconsolateness
discontent
discontentedness
discontentment
discontinuance
discontinuation
discontinuity
discord
discordance
discotheque
discount
discount business
discount chain
discount house
discount rate
discount store
discounter
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discourse
discourtesy
discovered check
discoverer
discovery
discovery day
discredit
discreetness
discrepancy
discreteness
discretion
discretionary trust
discrimination
discriminative stimulus
discriminator
discursiveness
discus
discussant
discussion
discussion section
disdain
disdainfulness
disease
disease of the neuromuscular junction
disease of the skin
diseased person
disembarkation
disembarkment
disembarrassment
disembodied spirit
disembowelment
disenchantment
disenfranchisement
disengagement
disentanglement
disentangler
disequilibrium
disestablishment
disesteem
disfavor
disfavour
disfiguration
disfigurement
disfluency
disforestation
disfranchisement
disfunction
disgorgement
disgrace
disgracefulness
disgruntlement
disguise
disgust
disgustingness
dish
dish aerial
dish antenna
dish rack
dish towel
dish washer
dishabille
disharmony
dishcloth
dishcloth gourd
disheartenment
dishful
dishonesty
dishonor
dishonorable discharge
dishonorableness
dishonour
dishonourableness
dishpan
dishrag
dishtowel
dishware
dishwasher
dishwasher detergent
dishwashing
dishwashing detergent
dishwashing liquid
dishwashing machine
dishwater
disillusion
disillusionment
disincentive
disinclination
disinfectant
disinfection
disinfestation
disinfestation officer
disinflation
disinformation
disingenuousness
disinheritance
disintegration
disinterest
disinterestedness
disinterment
disinvestment
disjointedness
disjunction
disjunctive conjunction
disjuncture
disk
disk access
disk brake
disk cache
disk clutch
disk controller
disk drive
disk error
disk file
disk harrow
disk jockey
disk operating system
disk overhead
disk pack
disk shape
disk space
diskette
dislike
dislocation
dislodgement
dislodgment
disloyalty
dismantlement
dismantling
dismay
dismemberment
dismissal
dismission
dismount
disney
disneyland
disobedience
disorder
disorderliness
disorderly behavior
disorderly conduct
disorganisation
disorganization
disorganized schizophrenia
disorganized type schizophrenia
disorientation
disowning
disownment
disparagement
disparager
disparateness
disparity
dispassion
dispassionateness
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