(painting by Akiane) |
The Holy Longing
Tell a wise person, or else keep silent,
because the mass man will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.
In the calm water of the love-nights,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you,
when you see the silent candle burning.
Now you are no longer caught in the obsession with darkness,
and a desire for higher love-making sweeps you upward.
Distance does not make you falter.
Now, arriving in magic, flying,
and finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you haven't experienced this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.
-By Goethe
Translated from the German by Robert Bly
That's all for this month. As I was going through my stuff, discarding most of it, I came across this poem which was too beautiful to throw away. Instead, I decided that in needed to be shared, at some point. It's been sitting in a folder with a bunch of other blog ideas for a while, and frankly I'm super busy this month, so it's good for me to, since it means it's a shorter blog post to write.
Take care, oh children of immortality