Robert Bly
reciting poems by
Antonio Machado
The Wind, One Brilliant Day
The Wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odour of jasmine.
"In return for the odour of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odour of your roses."
"I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead."
"Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain."
The wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
"What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?"
.jpg)
to my soul with an odour of jasmine.
"In return for the odour of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odour of your roses."
"I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead."
"Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain."
The wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
"What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?"
Last Night As I Was Sleeping
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
Antonio Machado 1835—1939
1 comment:
How do I take care of my garden every day? Do I take the time to give water to these thirsty flowers---that is, express the Spirit of Truth in living, reaching out to these parched ones in my world? And just as the sun shines on all the flowers in my garden, will I be choosy as to whom I will let my Light so shine? Or, will I, out of laziness, just let these flowers---humanity---wither away because I didn't take the time to care for them or love them? If I find excuses for not caring, the wind will take away the withered petals and yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain. My body, with mind and heart, is the garden. My understanding of Life's purpose is "to keep the garden"; it is to grow and reveal new blooms, new flowers and lots of roses all the time. We know a garden can't grow without water and sunlight; all the plants wither away and sometimes weeds will grow in their place. So, is it true of human beings, without the Spirit of Truth and the Truth of Love known and in expression there is a gradual withering away of Life substance. I remember and know for sure that my purpose here is to keep this garden watered with clear water--Truth; to keep it pure and undefiled, and of course, let the sun shine without interference from my human mind, let the warmth of the Sun's rays reach out to all points in my garden and beyond. I appreciate Antonio Machado's poem "The Wind, One Brilliant Day." Thank you, David, for posting this one.
Post a Comment