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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY


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Brothers, let us glorify freedom’s twilight

 

Brothers, let us glorify freedom’s twilight –
the great, darkening year.
Into the seething waters of the night
heavy forests of nets disappear.
O Sun, judge, people, your light
is rising over sombre years

Let us glorify the deadly weight
the people’s leader lifts with tears.
Let us glorify the dark burden of fate,
power’s unbearable yoke of fears.
How your ship is sinking, straight,
he who has a heart, Time, hears.

We have bound swallows
into battle legions - and we,
we cannot see the sun: nature’s boughs
are living, twittering, moving, totally:
through the nets –the thick twilight - now
we cannot see the sun, and Earth floats free.

Let’s try: a huge, clumsy, turn then
of the creaking helm, and, see -
Earth floats free. Take heart, O men.
Slicing like a plough through the sea,
Earth, to us, we know, even in Lethe’s icy fen,
has been worth a dozen heavens’ eternity.

 

Osip Mandelstam
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We will discover the nature of our particular genius

when we stop trying to conform

to our own or to other peoples' models,

learn to be ourselves,

and allow our natural channel to open.

Shakti Gawain

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"A good dinner is a rare thing today. Gastronomy is like poetry: it has fallen into a complete decadence...


The causes of this decadence are well known: thoughtlessness, fatuity, overweening ambition are only small and ordinary sins; the most complete self-abandonment, the absence of convictions, greed, these are what have troubled the limpid sources from which gastronomic delights should flow with an enchanted murmur.  

   
The present generation eats and knows not how to eat . . .

It is the enemy of that grande cuisine which was France's glory. The chefs are the cause of this indifference which is blamed on us. They have muddled everything, spoilt everything, exhausted everything."


Courrier de Paris 1858

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"Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep -- he hath awakened from the dream of life -- 'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife. "

as read by Mick for Brian ....writen by Shelley

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