Wednesday, June 13, 2012

An old city

I turn around the corner of the little street.
Standing there in front of me is an ancient edifice
With its windows panes all chipped and its entrance held precariously in place with aging teak
Silent and shady, hollow and mysterious
Its inhabitants pathetic and miserable
Tranquil yet horrifyingly with out sound. Is it haunted or just discrepant
Like most things in our surroundings in this great city, with death and decay surrounding us.
Oasis of green and forests of steel and glass, how hollow in shame are we stooping
I know nothing about this great city when there is so much to learn
so much to do to know it better.

Vernacular or Gothic, indo-saracenic Mediterranean or moghul, manueline or latin-Mediterranean we know what to make of these. Gardens oh a plenty do we have, many to stroll through but hard to see through.
Museums of shrines of artist aplenty.


Salut, comment allez vous, mon ami? Je suis Keith de bombay.
J'habite a Dadar, dans Bombay, mais ma famille est de goa. Goa est tres belle. I ya beaucoup de las plages et eglises a Goa. Mais , la nourriture dans Goa est tres delicieux et rustique.

Ma famille viens d'un petite village appele anjuna. Anjuna se trouve le nord de Goa dans la province de bardez.
Venons d'un parte de village appale Grande Chinvar. C'est tres belle, il ya beaucoup de champs et les cocotiers.

les eglises grandes et les plages tres belles

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Quote from Khalil Gibran

A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?



Khalil Gibran






A poem by Khalil Gibran




Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little 
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you 
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers? 


Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of 
Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon 
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice? 


Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge, 
While you are replete with heavenly wisdom? 


Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you 
Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the 
Field, haven of your dreams? 


Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the 
Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and 
Filling their hands with your bounty? 


You are God's spirit everywhere; 
You are stronger than the ages. 


Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of 
You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love 
Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed? 


Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the 
Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs 
Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury? 


Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands 
Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if 
We were hiding ourselves within ourselves? 


Recall you the hour I bade you farewell, 
And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips? 
That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love 
Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter! 


That kiss was introduction to a great sigh, 
Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man. 


That sigh led my way into the spiritual world, 
Announcing the glory of my soul; and there 
It shall perpetuate until again we meet. 


I remember when you kissed me and kissed me, 
With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said, 
"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose, 
And must live apart impelled by worldly intent. 


"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of 
Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God. 


"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate; 
Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower 
The cup of the sweetness of life. 
As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my 
Comforting groom; you memory, my Eternal wedding." 


Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in 
The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey 
To you my heart's every beat and affection. 


Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image 
Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his 
Shadow on my happy countenance of the past. 


Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty 
And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses. 


Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping 
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need? 
Do you know the greatness of my patience? 


Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying 
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any 
Secret communication between angels that will carry to 
You my complaint? 


Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life 
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me. 


Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me! 
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me! 


Where are you, me beloved? 
Oh, how great is Love! 
And how little am I! 

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Celtic poem

I am an estuary into the sea.


I am a wave of the ocean.

I am the sound of the sea.

I am a powerful ox.

I am a hawk on a cliff.

I am a dewdrop in the sun.

I am a plant of beauty.

I am a boar for valour.

I am a salmon in a pool.

I am a lake in a plain.

I am the strength of art.