The poem "The Utopian's Cry" describes a utopian who searches for ideals of beauty, love, and harmony but finds reality to be ugly and lacking in compassion. The utopian cries out for change but feels unheard by the miserable mortals who find solace only in immortality. The collection of poems explores themes of dreams, destiny, loneliness, faith, love and mythical creatures.
These beautiful poems go unknown by most who would love them. Some have restored them for a cost of up to 27 dollars, but thanks to the internet archive I can make them available for free. These are enjoyable to read, and are often spiritual experiences. I have arranged them as topics from A to Z.
Lord's work through Jakob Lorber containing a collection of impressive narrations referring to the conditions of death and existence in the beyond of a few representative persons: a famous man, a rich man, a scholar, a young mundane woman, a general, a pope, a ministry, a poor man etc.
These beautiful poems go unknown by most who would love them. Some have restored them for a cost of up to 27 dollars, but thanks to the internet archive I can make them available for free. These are enjoyable to read, and are often spiritual experiences. I have arranged them as topics from A to Z.
Lord's work through Jakob Lorber containing a collection of impressive narrations referring to the conditions of death and existence in the beyond of a few representative persons: a famous man, a rich man, a scholar, a young mundane woman, a general, a pope, a ministry, a poor man etc.
A humble presentation - a spontaneous result of awe and inspiration on my reading - THE SUFI PATH OF LOVE
The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi by William C. Chittick
I An Eye for the Beautiful .
II Christ the Norm of Beauty .
III Transfigurations . .
IV The Principles of Beauty .
V Beauty Released .
VI Spiritual Beauty Triumphant ,
CONTENTS.
I. MORNING SACRIFICES 11
II. THE ILLUMINATION OF DEATH . . . . 13
III. THE LAST SURVIVALS OF GRIEF . . . .16
IV. REVELATION BY SHADOW 18
V. THE IMPOSSIBLE CONSEQUENCE OF A DENIED FUTURE 20
VI. PERMANENT ELATION 22
VII. NAMELESS LIVES 24
VIII. THE DISGUISE OF CHRIST 26
IX. THE KINDNESS OF LOVE 28
Hymns to the NightNovalis (1772 – 1801) was a poet, mystic, an.docxwilcockiris
Hymns to the Night
Novalis (1772 – 1801) was a poet, mystic, and philosopher. He was influenced by German Idealism, especially the philosopher Johann Gottlieb Fichte, and became one of the great poets of German Romanticism.
He developed the spiritual symbol of the Blue Flower, an integral part of his ‘religion of love.’ Appearing for the first time in his unfinished novel, Henry von Ofterdingen, the Blue Flower represents man’s longing for heaven.
His first major work, Hymns to the Night, was written upon the death of his beloved fiancee Sophie, who died of tuberculosis when she was fifteen years old.
HYMNS TO THE NIGHT (translated by George MacDonald)
I.
Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light, with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its azure flood; the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it; but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.
Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world, sunk in a deep grave; waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes.-- The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence?
What springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart, and stills the soft air of sadness? Dost thou also take a pleasure in us, dark Night? What holdest thou under thy mantle, that with hidden power affects my soul? Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies. Thou upliftest the heavy-laden wings of the soul. Darkly and inexpressibly are we moved: joy-startled, I see a grave face that, tender and worshipful, inclines toward me, and, amid manifold entangled locks, reveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother. How poor and childish a thing seems to me now the Light! how joyous and welcome the departure of the day!-- Didst thou not only therefore, because the Night turns away from thee thy servants, you now strew in the gulfs of space those flashing globes, to proclaim, in seasons of thy absence, thy omnipotence, and thy return?
More heaven.
A humble presentation - a spontaneous result of awe and inspiration on my reading - THE SUFI PATH OF LOVE
The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi by William C. Chittick
I An Eye for the Beautiful .
II Christ the Norm of Beauty .
III Transfigurations . .
IV The Principles of Beauty .
V Beauty Released .
VI Spiritual Beauty Triumphant ,
CONTENTS.
I. MORNING SACRIFICES 11
II. THE ILLUMINATION OF DEATH . . . . 13
III. THE LAST SURVIVALS OF GRIEF . . . .16
IV. REVELATION BY SHADOW 18
V. THE IMPOSSIBLE CONSEQUENCE OF A DENIED FUTURE 20
VI. PERMANENT ELATION 22
VII. NAMELESS LIVES 24
VIII. THE DISGUISE OF CHRIST 26
IX. THE KINDNESS OF LOVE 28
Hymns to the NightNovalis (1772 – 1801) was a poet, mystic, an.docxwilcockiris
Hymns to the Night
Novalis (1772 – 1801) was a poet, mystic, and philosopher. He was influenced by German Idealism, especially the philosopher Johann Gottlieb Fichte, and became one of the great poets of German Romanticism.
He developed the spiritual symbol of the Blue Flower, an integral part of his ‘religion of love.’ Appearing for the first time in his unfinished novel, Henry von Ofterdingen, the Blue Flower represents man’s longing for heaven.
His first major work, Hymns to the Night, was written upon the death of his beloved fiancee Sophie, who died of tuberculosis when she was fifteen years old.
HYMNS TO THE NIGHT (translated by George MacDonald)
I.
Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light, with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its azure flood; the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it; but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.
Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world, sunk in a deep grave; waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes.-- The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence?
What springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart, and stills the soft air of sadness? Dost thou also take a pleasure in us, dark Night? What holdest thou under thy mantle, that with hidden power affects my soul? Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies. Thou upliftest the heavy-laden wings of the soul. Darkly and inexpressibly are we moved: joy-startled, I see a grave face that, tender and worshipful, inclines toward me, and, amid manifold entangled locks, reveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother. How poor and childish a thing seems to me now the Light! how joyous and welcome the departure of the day!-- Didst thou not only therefore, because the Night turns away from thee thy servants, you now strew in the gulfs of space those flashing globes, to proclaim, in seasons of thy absence, thy omnipotence, and thy return?
More heaven.
Neste trabalho, apresento alguns dados sobre a poesia de Lord Byron, seleciono alguns dos seus principais poemas para mostrar a importância de seu papel para a literatura Inglesa bem como o que caracteriza sua poesia como romântica.
2. THE UTOPIAN’S CRY Utopian, I am. Sadist I am not. The Byzantine world goes by, In its ever maddening gyre. Shades of darkness, black and grey, Are found in every corner. Of light, I find none. An altruist I am. A vulpine mortal, I am not. I search, a quest for the ideals; The ideals that made me, ME. And a human, a human. Of beauty and love, everyone speaks. But none to practice. Gentle, I am Malevolent, I am not. The spiraling continues, Taking the world ahead, Into it's uncompassionate existence. I weave dreams of harmony and rhythm, Only to find reality an ugly symphony. Idealist I am, Misanthropist, I am not. The weeping mortals, ever in misery, Will find their solace when The heavens embrace them in immortality; Until then, the utopian's cry Will go unheeded.
3. THE SPIRITS ARE CALLING OUT Tear stained cheeks, Eyes that never cease to weep, Like the rivers that flow, Unanimously; rippled waters, Sashaying down its course. An appalling fate, & impalpable fears; Have exorcized the strength, Of many a lives truth. The Basilica echoes out, To those weak in spirit. Fear not the agonies of this life, For the life-giving blood, Of the one who was crucified, Is aglow with mercy, For those that seek, Deliverance from untold miseries Of the spirit, and of life.
4. DREAMS NEVER DIE In sweet slumber, Comes along a myriad of dreams. Some pleasurable and joyous, Some of desire and some of success. Yet dreams have a way, of giving even the most frozen lives, a ray of hope and a chance; A chance to make those dreams, A living reality. Realities; bitter truths, Remind us of lost wishes, Of what we could have, Of what we could treasure, And of what we could become; Had we not given into our, futile egos, Had we humbled ourselves enough. Unfulfilled wishes; reside in the recesses, Of our ever dynamic minds. Dreams aren't the impossible, They are visions of what's possible. If not envisioned, if not dreamt of, Subsistence would be lusterless. Fertile and spirited, It's the rationale, Around which our lives revolve. Dream, and ask why not? For dreams never die.
5. THIS ONE MORNING The air was afresh with the morning dew, And the roses were blooming in their splendid red hues, The flock of morning birds sang their song in sweet rhythm, Echoing the voice of a new day, On this one morning. Still breathless at the sight of our earth in such Immense beauty and calm, I close my eyes in prayer, remembering those, who never had the fortune of seeing the light of the sun nor moon, For their eyes were crippled in darkness, Weaving dreams in their own worlds of blindness. This one morning, Made me know how blessed I am, For I had taken God’s blessings for granted. Thanks to this one morning, Lest I spend time mourning anymore, I love myself even more!
6. DESTINY Destiny has its way of unraveling, The most mysterious and guarded plans of the almighty, And yet it seems that life is still, not moving To where I should truly be. There is so much of fear of treading paths I haven't treaded before. My anxiety knows no bounds, Yet my faith in this elusive destiny, Comforts my ever-searching soul. What joy would there be? If you had to know how life is going to be, Precious moments pass fleetingly then, Without relishing the beauty, life has gifted me. Destiny, Destiny, I have been looking for you, Where are you taking me, even time doesn’t tell. I will be waiting still, Till you show yourself unto me.
7. ANGELS AMONG US Loneliness engulfed me, As I looked around for comfort, And found none to my dismay. Yet hope lingered on, In the darkness, Of the cold blue skies. Life had betrayed me ; Was left with nothing to cling on. Though memories that I cherished, Called me in affectionate remembrance, Leaving my heart yearning for what's past. Inexplicably, it also Encouraged me to live on. The warmth of spring, & its colorful hues, Held me promise of something, Bright and new. But for now, the haze of the winter skies, Had blinded me, With drops of the evening dew. As my shattered soul, Knelt down in sorrow and misery, There came along a stranger; Serene faced, with the gentlest of hands; His face was aglow, angel like; Only to know he was a mortal, Like the rest of us. He rested on a wheelchair; With eyes radiant and intense, Triumphant and content like a king, Whose kingdom fought many battles, But had never relinquished hope. Feeling deep apathy towards myself, For having resigned to my defeatist psyche, He gazed down at me, relieved; Relieved, that I found myself again. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, My spirited soul arose; its core strengthened. Like a momentary apparition, The valiant soul disappeared.
8. THE VOYAGE TO PARADISE At birth it begins, A narrow pathway shows itself; Ever-present, and unyielding, It welcomes any soul, That would endure the plight; The plight that would accompany, The narrow pathway. It's the pathway to Heaven, And here the voyage begins, The voyage to Paradise. And so the brave souls, Daring to tread these paths, Begin their journey. Which the craven think, is a travesty. A travesty, unreal and insincere; Faith is the name of this voyage, From the very beginning to the end. Hope survives the harsh storms; The soul gains potency, Its essence and spirit found. The journey is hard; There are crosses to be borne. Yet courage and faith, Would be constant companions. Companions that would spur, The righteous soul onwards, To Life: Eternal and blissful; Where the immaterial chords Of this life would cut itself, And disappear into the abyss. Forbearance and tranquility, Both in unison attained; The fountains of life-giving water, Gush forth, the bounty contained within. The soul that tread the narrow path, Would never thirst again, Its thirst quenched, and satiated. Rapturous tides envelope the soul. Destination is arrived at, the voyage ends; The voyage to Paradise.
9. WHISPERS OF MY SOUL The Pulchritude of love seems immortal, And chastity seems its virtue, To feel its touch and charm is ecstasy But it's been elusive to my existence so far. The consonance of souls is made in paradise, Not even the celestial bodies in heaven savor it, Mortals are endowed with it, And yet its flame has died down in my spirits . The longing to feel that rapture of tenderness, Radiates desire in even The faintest of lives, with eagerness. Drifting away in my dreams, Of this precious treasure, My soul regains its tranquility, And whispers an elixir of hope, In the pulchritude of love.
10. THE UNICORN Through the fertile slopes of imagination, In the land of fairies and changelings, Divine, unassuming and beautiful, Runs along the harbinger of luck. Wild mane; as white as it can be, Purity symbolized, Fortune smiles and welcomes The mythical creature Of many an enchanting folklore. Galloping, grace in its very stride, It's a shining white light Like a thousand fine crystals Twinkling in the bright summer sun, Its existence, mystifying and enigmatic, Yet captivating enough to hold my fantasy. It's the Unicorn, the creature from the myths. Loving and compassionate, Fiercely loyal and caring I wish it wasn't a myth, Wish it didn't have to gallop away, To another world, to another magical land. The unicorn, will always remain my friend, My magical companion, from the other world.
