(A “patience stone” (Persian: sang-e sabur) is a legendary element from Persian folklore that absorbs secrets, pain, and hardships when spoken to. It patiently listens until it breaks or explodes, thus relieving the speaker of emotional burdens.)
As we understand it now, in Persian traditional sagas, the term ‘Patient Stone’ refers to a stone where people can share their pain and worries to ease their hearts. I think this website or blog on WordPress has become similar to a patient stone, holding our suffering and helping to lighten our minds. I take this chance to share my feelings with you, my friends. I just hope our WP, serving as a patient stone, doesn’t explode under the weight!
‘It is no measure of health to be well adjusted in a profoundly sick society.’ ~Krishnamurti.
Madness amongst Individuals is rare. Amongst the Collective, it is the rule.’ ~ Nietzsche
‘To be normal is the ultimate aim of the unsuccessful.’ ~Carl Gustav Jung.
Via Chis Sizeland from FB 🙏
Lately, carrying a heavy heart, I reflect on my memories to soothe my soul. A poem by the renowned Persian poet Nima Yushij came to mind, resonating deeply with my current feelings. I believe I have been searching for this flautist (in this poem) for a long time, as I have been constantly seeking harmony and a muse, both of which I have missed ever since.
I’ve previously shared a post about this great poet’s work, but I wanted to share this very poem again to show how it resonates with me. You may want to check out the full post here!
My home is cloudy
The entire earth is clouded by that
from the height of the mountains pass,
broken, ruined, and drunk,
The wind whirls, and the whole world has been shattered by that,
and so have my senses.
Ay, flautist, that the sound of your flute brought you out of the road, where are you?
My home is cloudy
But the cloud seems to tend towards rain.
In the reverie of my bright days that have been lost,
I, in the face of my Sun, carry to observe at the threshold of the sea.
And all the world is ruined and shattered by the wind.
And on the path, the flautist who blows into his flute in this cloudy world has his own path ahead.
And here is the original version;
خانهام ابریست …خانه ام ابری ست
یکسره روی زمین ابری ست با آن.
از فراز گردنه خرد و خراب و مست
باد میپیچد.
یکسره دنیا خراب از اوست
و حواس من!
آی نی زن که تو را آوای نی برده ست دور از ره کجایی؟
خانه ام ابری ست اما
ابر بارانش گرفته ست
در خیال روزهای روشنم کز دست رفتندم،
من به روی آفتابم
می برم در ساحت دریا نظاره.
و همه دنیا خراب و خرد از باد است
و به ره ، نی زن که دائم می نوازد نی ، در این دنیای ابراندود
Thank you for reading! 🙏💖
lampmagician 