It’s all I have to bring today

It’s all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Care-charming Sleep

Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes,
Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose
On this afflicted prince ; fall like a cloud
In gentle showers; give nothing that is loud,
Or painful to his slumbers; easy, sweet,
And as a purling stream, thou son of Night,
Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain,
Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain;
Into this prince gently, oh, gently slide,
And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.
from ´ The Tragedy of Valentinian`

John Fletcher, 1579-1625

To see a world

To see a world
in a grain of sand
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.

William Blake:


Eine Welt zu sehn
in dem Körnchen Sand
Eine Welt zu sehn in dem Körnchen Sand,
einen Himmel in wilder Blume:
Halt' Unendlichkeit in der off'nen Hand
und die Ewigkeit einer Stunde.

Übersetzung: Walter A. Aue

Our lives

'Our lives
are like the course of the sun.
At the darkest moment
there is the promise
of daylight.'

NN

Anam Cara

Stairway to Heaven... Anam Cara
(gealic "Soul Friend")

Your home is a sunbeam, a rainbow,
the moon's soft glow

I glimpse you in the sudden burst of light
at the parting of clouds.

I smell your earthy freshness
in the tender breezes of awakening spring.

I hear your voice in the call of geese,
as they lift from the river and form their living arch.

I feel your softness in the brush of a feather,
your sweet warmth as a puppy held close to my cheek.

I find your peace in the murmur of a lonely woodland stream;
sparkling and glistening as it's water softly skips to the sea.

Your memory is the refreshment of cool spring water,
after laboring in summer fields.

I see you waiting inside a garden,
as my pathway turns it's final corner.
I thrill to hear you softly whisper my name again in joy.

No more partings, no more sorrow.
Our souls remember their Song, as we mingle with the ages.

(J.T. Histed)

And can it be...

"AND CAN IT BE THAT IN A WORLD SO FULL AND BUSY,
THE LOSS OF ONE WEAK CREATURE MAKES A VOID IN ANY HEART,
SO WIDE AND DEEP THAT NOTHING BUT THE WIDTH AND DEPTH OF ETERNITY CAN FILL IT UP!"
-Charles Dickens-

Lament for a Son

There's a hole in the world now.
In the place where he was, there's now just nothing.
A center, like no other, of memory and hope and knowledge and affection
which once inhabited the earth
is gone.
Only a gap remains.

A perspective on this world, unique in this world,
which once moved about within this world,
has been rubbed out.
Only a void is left.

There's nobody now who saw just what he saw,
knows what he knew, remembers what he remembered,
loves what he loved.

A person, an irreplaceable person is gone.

Never again will anyone apprehend the world quite the way he did.
Never again will anyone inhabit the world the way he did.

Questions I have can never now get answers.

The world is emptier.

My son is gone.

Only a hole remains, a void, a gap,
never to be filled

(Nicholas Wolterstorff)

Foto: Blumen, niedergelegt auf der Treppe des Hauses Grosvenor Square 50, Dublin