Monday, 17 December 2012

The Drop

The drop
falls from the sky,
retaining its individuality
in streams, rivulets and rivers,
reaches the ocean, source of birth and existence.
Ocean awaits anxiously its arrival, embraces.



Drop feels
it is quenching the thirst of the vast ocean
whose each wave begs and cries:
"I am thirsty-quench my thirst.
My bowl is empty -fill it up."



Drop,
with its concealed ego of 'do good' feeling
shouts:
"worry not;
I shall quench thy    thirst;
I shall fill   thy bowl."



The eternal-beggar man acts an Ever-Bestower!
and


THE ETERNAL-BESTOWER  PLAYS AN EVER-BEGGAR!
Chhote Bharany




Sunday, 9 December 2012

We are coming from too much. We are moving towards too little


They survived it, but just barely. 
Is it more endurable to be a survivor if one has survived just barely?






They were dispossessed of old age.
EC



Saturday, 8 December 2012

another day.......


Proof destroys. It even destroys the truest things.



A day in a different sequence, a happy day.


Leaves turning to brown to green to brown........


Wednesday, 5 December 2012

The sciences bite off pieces of life, and life shrouds itself in pain and grief.



He can never tire of reality unless it is Art.



Many worm thoughts: cut into two, they continue to grow.



Stories told in water......to vanish now and then, never for good.

Monday, 3 December 2012

In Ulm.....

They say nothing, but how they explain it!





In these new towns, one can find the old houses only in people.




A philosopher ought to be someone for whom people remain as important as ideas.
EC

Monday, 26 November 2012

The new

The more definite a mind is, the more it needs the new



There is something similar about all stories, but I still don't know what it is.



All events fear their words.


Pay no attention, everything has to be rethought.
Elias Canetti

Monday, 23 July 2012

The spaces.....

The old ruins are saved, 
and we will be able to draw comparisons with the new ones.





Progress has its bad side;
From time to time, it explodes.


who would even dream of destroying,
If nothing could be destroyed




The many meanings of reading: the letters are like ants and have their own secret state.



The paradox.....only the ideas no one knows about keep us alive
........even in death


The abandoned earth, 
overtaxed with words, 
chocking in knowledge, 
and with no living ear left on it to listen into the cold.










Wednesday, 18 July 2012

the paradox....

Plants, blossom in large numbers and always anew; 
Their mind is plural and seems to be free of man's dreadful tyranny of oneness.




Oneness has grabbed us, and now we are trapped forever in it teeth.



The scattered works of artists have something of blossoms; 
only the plant always brings forth the same,
 whereas modern artists are racked with the fever of variety.
EC





Monday, 16 July 2012

Shadows.....


Man acquired his plantlike nature in architecture.


His buildings quelled his fear.


Now he has succeeded in filling them too with fear.
1944 EC