"We Hope To Live..."
May 13, 2018 09:32:57 #
"We Hope To Live..."
“We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists. For the present is generally painful to us. We conceal it from our sight, because it troubles us; and, if it be delightful to us, we regret to see it pass away. We try to sustain it by the future and think of arranging matters which are not in our power, for a time which we have no certainty of reaching.
Let each one examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means; the future alone is our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so.”
- Blaise Pascal
The Poet: May Sarton, "Now I Become Myself"
"Now I Become Myself"
“Now I become myself. It's taken
Time, many years and places,
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"hurry, you will be dead before -----"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
or the end of the poem, is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move,
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the Sun!”
~ May Sarton,
Collected Poems, 1930-1993
“We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists. For the present is generally painful to us. We conceal it from our sight, because it troubles us; and, if it be delightful to us, we regret to see it pass away. We try to sustain it by the future and think of arranging matters which are not in our power, for a time which we have no certainty of reaching.
Let each one examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means; the future alone is our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so.”
- Blaise Pascal
The Poet: May Sarton, "Now I Become Myself"
"Now I Become Myself"
“Now I become myself. It's taken
Time, many years and places,
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"hurry, you will be dead before -----"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
or the end of the poem, is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move,
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the Sun!”
~ May Sarton,
Collected Poems, 1930-1993
May 13, 2018 10:14:43 #
pafret wrote:
"We Hope To Live..." br br img https:/... (show quote)
Bravo! Superbly done ever so true!
Yesterday gone, tomorrow never to come, it is only this day we have....
One for you my friend~~
I -
Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken
Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame
Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken,
Time, thy name.
Girt about with shadow, blind and lame,
Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken
Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame.
Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken
Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame,
Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken,
Time, thy name.
- II -
Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,
So might haply time, with voice represt,
Speak: is grief the last gift of my dealing?
Nay, but rest.
All the world is wearied, east and west,
Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,
Twelve loud hours of life's laborious quest.
Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,
Find at last my comfort, and are blest,
Not with rapturous light of life's revealing
Nay, but rest.
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
May 13, 2018 11:27:23 #
pafret wrote:
"We Hope To Live..." br br img https:/... (show quote)
Superb post Paf. I lived the poetry. Bravo!!
May 13, 2018 11:28:22 #
lindajoy wrote:
Bravo! Superbly done ever so true! br br Yesterda... (show quote)
Louise, you came back with yet an equally amazing poem. Lovely style....
May 13, 2018 12:05:29 #
kankune wrote:
Louise, you came back with yet an equally amazing poem. Lovely style....
Thank You, Thelma..
We love poetry donât we and yes, with some have lived it!!
Pafret has a way of posting beautifully done realisms of life..
A Happy Mothers Day is wished for you!!
May 13, 2018 19:51:54 #
lindajoy wrote:
Thank You, Thelma..
We love poetry donât we and yes, with some have lived it!!
Pafret has a way of posting beautifully done realisms of life..
A Happy Mothers Day is wished for you!!
We love poetry donât we and yes, with some have lived it!!
Pafret has a way of posting beautifully done realisms of life..
A Happy Mothers Day is wished for you!!
What a lovely bouquet. Thx Louise. 🌹🌹🌹🌹
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