Images will no longer do. Too banal. The penetrating step is in words. To make us feel again the pulse of a mind.
Centuries alter not man’s destiny, woman’s insouciance. Indispensable nations. Sieg Heil!
If Ulrich has managed to expose Persian literature to more Austrians, his reckless appropriation of Rumi’s name will have done no harm and much good.
The wickedness of civilisation, at least in its capitalist extant, is to borrow the profit of today against the misery of tomorrow.
My friends in Austria wonder why I don’t much like to speak English anymore…. I’ve rarely heard such awful readings of fine poetry in my life.
speaking of molecular biology and reincarnationwith an intelligent and lovely scientist, dancesanother one stoned and impossibly beautifulslender waist, pushing bosom, shoulders roundfeatures aquiline and fine…..if the scientist believes not in the the chemistry of existencebut in the holy spirit, reincarnation and destinywhat is a hewer of words and a drawer of sentimentto believe now. in the stoned and impossibly beautiful.
The taste of Anna and red wine.So lovely to drink and drink. Somehow without her sweet nectar the wine is not so fine.So without wine now I swim onpool water a poor substitutefor past Dionysian revels,future promises in every stroke.
No Jane Austen heroines for meall prose and no poetry,reason and norm insistentin every dawn anda faultless sense of society,infallible propriety.I’ll dally to ventilatethe tight sphincter which crampsher every breathin hope to release the emotionsstifled so long below.Hopeless though, these women -function of their most intimate organsgoverned so strongly from the headand not the heart. One pure breath of unfiltered emotion, more, sadlythan six months of stifling devotion.