Beyond the terrace
I pace barefoot through
the garden past the blurred
flowers that bend their petals
as though they know me.
Brilliant in the starlight
the old tree stands apart
as if having outgrown the
rest it needs space.
It sighs to the song of a breeze
limbs reaching to the sky.
I wonder if it has eyes
to hold such history.
I feel it is friends
with the moon
I hear them laughing at us.
Many, many years long past, the Tuatha Dé Danannan, the divinities of the ancients, ruled over Ireland.
Now some of them were merciful; others were wrathful, and still others, like the Banshees [Old Irish, Ban Side, “women of the mound”] were harbingers of death.
The Banshees were neither cruel nor unkind; they merely foretold the immanent death of a family member, typically through wailing, shrieking or keening, which is a traditional lament for the dead.
So what did a Banshee look like?
Well, their appearance varied by account and region. They have been described as having long streaming hair, wearing a grey cloak (over a green dress), and glaring out through red, bloodshot eyes (from their crying). Likewise, they were sometimes dressed in white, with shocking red hair and a dead, ghoulish pallor.
Occasionally, they looked like a young girl, typically a family member who died in youth.
One of the most sumptuous and beautiful of all illuminated alchemical texts, Splendor Solis was published in various versions throughout the German states in the 16th Century. Attributed to Salomon Trismosin, a legendary figure who acquired the Philosopher’s Stone and was allegedly Paracelsus’s teacher, Splendor contains 22 (the same number as the Major Arcana of the Tarot) gorgeous, mystifying images with elaborate decorative borders reminiscent of medieval Book of Hours. As with all alchemical treatises the text is full of dense allegorical references to the Solar King and Lunar Queen, death and re-birth, the black and the inner suns, planets and tinctures.
That is the title of one of Hannah Arendt books, a great political philosopher in the 20th century.
Hannah Cohn Arendt
She just made me think how we look at the history; our history, and mark the special personalities with some especial paraphrase name; such as The angel or rescuer or as devil or evil and with these we distance ourselves from them as we had have nothing to do with.
Hannah Arendt discussed in her book about the Eichmann as a functional object in the system as everyone else might try to do its best! it is the matter of system which we are involving more and more in our modern life. that is the systematic function in society. in the development of our civilisation, just do it as best as you can. we are almost unconsciously trying to be more functional and fitter into our environment (Jobs, Neighbourhood, etc.) as we might win the cup!
As she explains; We call them (Hitler or Eichmann or…) Devils and Evils but in reality, for example, Eichmann, had got his job to vanish the Jews, he had tried to give his best! it might sound brutal but it’s just the bitterness of the truth. the main thing as we truly consider and look deeply in our society especially in politics, we are (I do the accent on “WE”) all trying to be functional. without thinking twice what for we are engaged to do. believe me that there are many peoples who, with no concern, just try to get the best result of their doing.
As my brother and me, escaped from Iran to Germany, we both wanted to work and earn the money by ourselves, my brother was a writer, from the head down to the feet, I since a long time ago, already decided nothing to do but just help brother to catch his aim. although in Germany, I didn’t want to get social help from the government as it’s usual here, therefore, tried to find a job. at first, began to play on the streets; it took a while; me and my guitar travelling through the cities and playing here and there to make people happy but the life was going more expensively and therefore, I had to try another one; become a taxi driver! that was an idea by a friend who knew me how I loved driving. anyway, I became one of them but a special one; you know why, because, I am not just transporting people from A to B, I try to help them to have a nice time in the taxi with me, listening to and have an understanding. I just want to say that I take the job consciously to make it better as it once was and not only to be functional in this business! I try just to listen to them and understand their dilemma.
In any case, I’d never want to show off myself, just to say about the way we do our jobs; functional or by their own creations.
At last but not least; reading the books by Hannah Arendt helped me to understand not only about me but the whole society around this planet.
as Dr Jung says;
Cheers all dear friends and have a wonderful Weekend ❤ ❤
Hare, important to humans since our early days, is known everywhere as a symbol of fertility, balance, and transformation. Although rare, cave paintings of Hare have been found. With Hare comes the Spring promise of the eternal renewal of life.
“Clouds above, what is this bloke on? He only introduced a new book a week or so ago…now another? Is the man off his head?”
Probably I am, however in my defence this one is more than a tad different from its forebearer. Firstly, a poles apart genre; secondly, it is co-authored with Shirley Blamey. It’s name is ‘Whatever Happened To Eve?’
Eighteen months previous I commenced collecting ever willing words for this story. A third of the book complete, the new words arriving were a motley crew who took it upon themselves to mutiny. Plainly, I was left with little choice but to have them walk the plank.
Then a stroke of good fortune. It was in September last year, having suffered a freakish eye injury some months previous that had slowed my progress down to a snail’s…
It had been a long winter and Lada was tired of staying in Iriy, the heavenly world of the dead, where she had to reside until the summer came. Veles, the ruler of forests and her companion in Iriy, had tried to entertain her, but there was a limit to the number of shapeshifting tricks that Lada could bear. She stood at the heavy, barred gates, the impatient tapping of her foot muffled by the giant oak’s leaves. She was straining her ears to hear Gerovit’s heavy footsteps amidst the deafening birdsong. Every spring, the god of war would come to Iriy and take Lada into the realm of the living to rule by his side.
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