Journal
Monday,Nov 2 2009, 04:30:41 PMODE TO LIFE
One who becomes a slave
of habitual deeds, repeating
Every day, the same things
Dies slowly
He who does not change routine
he who does not risk and does not
change the colour of his clothes
He who does not speak or try
To learn about anything
He dies very slowlty
He who avoids passion
Who prefers black on white
Who looks for the dots on the " i "'s
Rather than feeling an amount of
emotions.......and fight
Emotions exactly like those
Which make your eyes shine
Those that make you smile
Those emotions that make
Your heart beat for a while
When you are wrong or
when your sentiments are in a havoc.
He dies slowly
He who does not change
He who is unhappy in his work
He who does not risk
certainty for uncertainty
To follow a dream
He who does not allow
Just for one time at least
To run away from crazy advices
He who does not travel
Who does not read
He who does not listen to music
He who is not satisfied with his own self
Is surely to die slowly.
He slowly dies
The one who destroys himself
By not letting anyone help
He who spends all day grumbling
And moaning about , his misfortunes
and does nothing to change
He slowly dies
The one who abondon a project
without even starting it
He who asks no questions
about arguments he does not know
He who never answers to
questions he does know
Let us avoid slow death
Remember always that
Being alive requires
A great achievement
greater than the simple
Fact of breathing
only great patirnce
makes us reach
A SPLENDED HAPPINESS
JESSIE........02 /11 /09
11/25/2009 9:30 AMThe Moon
Ascends some ruined haunted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.
Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed,
As if this phantom, full of pain,
Were by the crumbling walls concealed,
And at the windows seen again.
Until at last, serene and proud
In all the splendour of her light,
She walks the terraces of cloud,
Supreme as Empress of the Night.
I look, but recognize no more
Objects familiar to my view;
The very pathway to my door
Is an enchanted avenue.
All things are changed. One mass of shade,
The elm-trees drop their curtains down;
By palace, park, and colonnade
I walk as in a foreign town.
The very ground beneath my feet
Is clothed with a diviner air;
White marble paves the silent street
And glimmers in the empty square.
Illusion! Underneath there lies
The common life of everyday;
Only the spirit glorifies
With its own tints the sober grey.
In vain we look, in vain uplift
Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind;
We see but what we have the gift
Of seeing; what we bring we find.
The Moon........