Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,
even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

***************

For Barbara Rose, who loved this beautiful poem. Thanks Janet for sharing it with me!

Also, my friend Lynne, who knows how much I like birds, introduced me to the album, You Are My Little Bird by Elizabeth Mitchell. Although the album is for children, I think adults can enjoy it as well. It has really wonderful interpretations of songs by Bob Marley, Velvet Underground and many others. My favorite song so far is: If You Listen. The album explains that the song was “originally recorded by French singer Francoise Hardy, and is all about how listening can be a magical experience”.

I agree…and hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

Chinese Art and Greek Art

by Rumi translated by Coleman Barks

The Prophet said, “There are some who see me

by the same light in which I am seeing them.

Our natures are one.

Without reference to any strands

of lineage, without reference to texts or traditions,

we drink the life-water together.”

Here’s a story

about that hidden mystery:

The Chinese and the Greeks

were arguing as to who were the better artists.

The king said,

“We’ll settle this matter with a debate.”

The Chinese began talking,

but the Greeks wouldn’t say anything.

They left.

The Chinese suggested then

that they each be given a room to work on

with their artistry, two rooms facing each other

and divided by a curtain.

The Chinese asked the king

for a hundred colors, all the variations,

and each morning they came to where

the dyes were kept and took them all.

The Greeks took no colors.

“They’re not part of our work.”

They went to their room

and began cleaning and polishing the walls. All day

every day they made those walls as pure and clear

as an open sky.

There is a way that leads from all-colors

to colorlessness. Know that the magnificent variety

of the clouds and the weather comes from

the total simplicity of the sun and the moon.

The Chinese finished, and they were so happy.

They beat the drums in the joy of completion.

The king entered their room,

astonished by the gorgeous color and detail.

The Greeks then pulled the curtain dividing the rooms.

The Chinese figures and images shimmeringly reflected

on the clear Greek walls. They lived there,

even more beautifully, and always

changing in the light.

The Greek art is the Sufi way.

They don’t study books of philosophical thought.

They make their loving clearer and clearer.

No wantings, no anger. In that purity

they receive and reflect the images of every moment,

from here, from the stars, from the void.

They take them in

as though they were seeing

with the lighted clarity

that sees them.

______________________

If You Listen

By Francoise Hardy

If you listen you can hear

birds sing and flowers grow

If you listen you can hear

my love for you just grow

In the silence that’s around

deep peace and love are found

In the days that will be here

my love will call you loud and clear

And in the silent place

where loneliness is found

I’ll wander through the open door

to look for you

There in that magic land

that lies beyond the clouds

floating on the sea of dreams

I’ll sing to you

Image: One of my favorite birds, the bowerbird, working on his blue monochrome nest.

Out of every hundred people,

those who always know better:

fifty-two.

Unsure of every step:

nearly all the rest.

Ready to help,

if it doesn’t take long:

forty-nine.

Always good,

because they cannot be otherwise:

four – well, maybe five.

Able to admire without envy:

eighteen.

Led to error

by youth (which passes):

sixty, plus or minus.

Those not to be messed with:

four-and-forty.

Living in constant fear

of someone or something:

seventy-seven.

Capable of happiness:

twenty-some-odd at most.

Harmless alone,

turning savage in crowds:

more than half, for sure.

Cruel

when forced by circumstances:

it’s better not to know,

not even approximately.

Wise in hindsight:

not many more

than wise in foresight.

Getting nothing out of life except things:

thirty

(though I would like to be wrong).

Balled up in pain

and without a flashlight in the dark:

eighty-three, sooner or later.

Those who are just:

quite a few, thirty-five.

But if it takes effort to understand:

three.

Worthy of empathy:

ninety-nine.

Mortal:

one hundred out of one hundred -

a figure that has never varied yet.

*Translated from the Polish by Joanna Trzeciak.

Wislawa Szymborska won the 1996 Nobel Prize for literature. Her most recent book in English is View With a Grain of Sand (1995). She lives in Krakow, Poland.