"Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days? Song itself cannot happen without time, without the voice rising and falling away." A quotation from a Rilke poem translated by Buddhist philosopher Joanna Macy in an On Being episode first aired last summer, shortly after I got back from my WI trip. I quoted one of the translations then. Here is another that particularly caught my ear this morning:
"The Swan
This laboring of ours with all that remains undone,
as if still bound to it,
is like the lumbering gait of the swan.
And then our dying — releasing ourselves
from the very ground on which we stood —
is like the way he hesitantly lowers himself
into the water. It gently receives him,
and, gladly yielding, flows back beneath him,
as wave follows wave,
while he, now wholly serene and sure,
with regal composure,
allows himself to glide."
The transcript of the whole show is here. As are more Rilke poems from the broadcast & on the website, including Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower:
"Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am."
Today's painting is one of my favorite 20th century favorites, Clyfford Still. It reminded me of the poem quoted above.
May we all be the mystery at the crossroad of our senses and discover the meaning there.
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