Being something

Source: Favim 

“Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” 

~ Betty Smith

Being something

Source: Favim 

“Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” 

~ Betty Smith

Grass Accepts

Source: FreePhotosandArt.com

The grass accepts the cigarette ends & brown crawly things
thrown out of the tent.
The earth, the largest orphanage in the universe, patiently tolerates
our childish whims & antics.
Our tears & shooting at each other,
pouring salt into the fruit salad & placing bombs underneath things.
A strong wind blowing, the tent clutches the earth as tightly as a child
hangs onto its Mother’s hand. I am writing in a horizontal position, the strength
necessary to understanding this world is rising up through my stomach.
The blades of grass straining upwards point me in the right direction. Love,
Love gives us a chance to win through despite our own being.

~ Jacek Podsiadlo

Grass Accepts

Source: FreePhotosandArt.com

The grass accepts the cigarette ends & brown crawly things
thrown out of the tent.
The earth, the largest orphanage in the universe, patiently tolerates
our childish whims & antics.
Our tears & shooting at each other,
pouring salt into the fruit salad & placing bombs underneath things.
A strong wind blowing, the tent clutches the earth as tightly as a child
hangs onto its Mother’s hand. I am writing in a horizontal position, the strength
necessary to understanding this world is rising up through my stomach.
The blades of grass straining upwards point me in the right direction. Love,
Love gives us a chance to win through despite our own being.

~ Jacek Podsiadlo

Quote on existence

Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I exist, I am, I am here, I am becoming, I make my own life and no one else makes it for me. I must face my own shortcomings, mistakes, transgressions. No one can suffer my non-being as I do, but tomorrow is another day, and I must decide to leave my bed and live again. And if I fail, I don't have the comfort of blaming you or life or God.

~ Leo F. Buscaglia

Quote on existence

Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I exist, I am, I am here, I am becoming, I make my own life and no one else makes it for me. I must face my own shortcomings, mistakes, transgressions. No one can suffer my non-being as I do, but tomorrow is another day, and I must decide to leave my bed and live again. And if I fail, I don't have the comfort of blaming you or life or God.

~ Leo F. Buscaglia

I Love the Dark Hours of My Being

Photo credit: chilombiano from morguefile.com

Ich liebe meines Wesens Dunkelstuden
in welchen meine Sinne sich vertiefen.
In ihnen habe ich, wie in alten Briefen
mein Täglich leben schon gelebt gefunden
und wie Legende weit und überwunden.

Aus ihnen kommt mir wissen: das ich Raum
zu einem zweiten zeitlos breiten Leben habe.
Und manchmal bin ich wie der Baum
der, reif und rauschend, über einem Grabe
den Traum erfüllt, den der vergangne Knabe
(um den sich seine warmen Wurzeln drängen)
verlor in Traurigkeiten und Gesängen.

Translation

I love the dark hours of my being
When my mind drops into the deep.
There I find, as in old letters,
My daily life already lived
Like a legend, conquered far and wide.

Then the knowledge comes: I have space
For another wide and timeless life.
So, sometimes I am like a tree
Ripe and rustling over a grave,
Realizing the dream of the forgone
(whom its living roots embrace)
That had been lost in sorrows and songs.

 ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

(German-English translation by Anne Gravity)

I Love the Dark Hours of My Being

Photo credit: chilombiano from morguefile.com

Ich liebe meines Wesens Dunkelstuden
in welchen meine Sinne sich vertiefen.
In ihnen habe ich, wie in alten Briefen
mein Täglich leben schon gelebt gefunden
und wie Legende weit und überwunden.

Aus ihnen kommt mir wissen: das ich Raum
zu einem zweiten zeitlos breiten Leben habe.
Und manchmal bin ich wie der Baum
der, reif und rauschend, über einem Grabe
den Traum erfüllt, den der vergangne Knabe
(um den sich seine warmen Wurzeln drängen)
verlor in Traurigkeiten und Gesängen.

Translation

I love the dark hours of my being
When my mind drops into the deep.
There I find, as in old letters,
My daily life already lived
Like a legend, conquered far and wide.

Then the knowledge comes: I have space
For another wide and timeless life.
So, sometimes I am like a tree
Ripe and rustling over a grave,
Realizing the dream of the forgone
(whom its living roots embrace)
That had been lost in sorrows and songs.

 ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

(German-English translation by Anne Gravity)