From Rainer Maria Rilke’s July 1903 Letter to a Young Poet.
Perhaps then, some day far into the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
I love, love, love that: Live your way into the answer.
Here is the original German version:
Vielleicht leben sie dann allmählich, ohne es zu merken, eines fernen Tages in die Antwort hinein.
I came across this haiku by Buson today. It’s a spring poem and we are in autumn now, you say? True. But it’s fun and we want fun this week.
bare ass exposed –
gust of spring wind.
here is another translation:
With no underrobes,
bare butt suddenly exposed
a gust of spring wind
I prefer the first translation. It’s straight forward and simple. Which do you like better?
Brain Pickings – An inventory of the meaningful life.
THE EVERYDAY ENCHANTMENT OF MUSIC
A rough sound was polished until it became a smoother sound, which was polished until it became music. Then the music was polished until it became the memory of a night in Venice when tears of the sea fell from the Bridge of Sighs, which in turn was polished until it ceased to be and in its place stood the empty home of a heart in trouble. Then suddenly there was sun and the music came back and traffic was moving and off in the distance, at the edge of the city, a long line of clouds appeared, and there was thunder, which, however menacing, would become music, and the memory of what happened after Venice would begin, and what happened after the home of the troubled heart broke in two would also begin.
Winter is back for a day or two and Casa Monte Frio is under 3 inches of white stuff. Piñon branches are bending down in greeting, heavy with wet snow. But it is April and green blades of sturdy Southwest grass are peeking through the sparkling white blanket, which will melt in record time now that the sun glares down from a blue-bue sky.
They say spring has come
and the sky is filled with mist,
Yet on the mountains, no flowers, only snow.
This is interesting on so many different levels, but particular in terms of testosterone:
Protect me from what I want.
Poem of the day via Weekly Words of Wisdom:
Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn,
a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter;
If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things,
this is the best season of your life.
Or how about this from the Upaya Newsletter:
Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living in better conditions.
Unfettered at last, a traveling monk,
I pass the old Zen barrier.
Mine is a traceless stream-and-cloud life,
Of these mountains, which shall be my home?
– Manan (1591-1654)
Thank you IM.