El blog pretende publicar, principalmente, traducciones al español de textos y poemas de Henry David Thoreau y referencias a trabajos sobre dicho autor.
6-07-2019-6-02-2020 (I): ALABANZA A LA ETERNIDAD DE JESÚS (MESSIAEN): El blog pretende publicar, principalmente, traducciones al español de textos y poemas de Henry David Thoreau y referencias a trabajos sobre dicho autor.
Messiaen - Louange à l'Éternité de Jésus - theremin and bass
El 6 de julio de 2019 escuchado en la radio del coche la "Alabanza para la eternidad de Jesús de Messiaen"
"Todo lo que ha sido dicho de la amistad es como la botánica a las flores
HDT
Diario 1843-1844
Puedes comprar un siervo o esclavo, pero no puedes comprar un amigo
HDT
Diario 28 de noviembre de 1860
No se puede decir que un hombre hay tenido éxito en esta vida si no ha satisfecho a un amigo
HDT
Diario 19 de febrero de 1857
Sólo la sinceridad más absoluta bajo el cielo puede traer el talento innato a su cumplimiento, y apurar el cáliz de la naturaleza.Quien puede apurar totalmente su copa puede llevar a su cumplimiento la naturaleza innata de los demás...esta actividad clarificadora no tiene límite, nunca se detiene ni cesa...permanece en el vacío arriba con el sol, viendo y juzgando , interminable en el espacio y el tiempo, buscando, aguantando...sin ser vista produce armonía, sin moverse transforma, sin ser movida es perfecta.
Ezra Pound (Confucian Translations)"
(En recuerdo de EAH)
El fantasma de la libertad fue la penúltima película de Luis Buñuel, filmada al final de su carrera. En el tiempo de producción tenía 74 años y estaba considerando jubilarse. La película resume muchas de las preocupaciones que impregnan toda su obra y fue, además, una de sus favoritas:
"El azar todo lo gobierna; la necesidad, que lejos está de tener la misma pureza, solo viene más tarde. Si tengo debilidad por alguna de mis películas, sería por El fantasma de la libertad, porque prueba a salir solo este tema."
(Buñuel, 1983)
"Vivan las caenas" es un grito que asume la posibilidad del azar como parte de las consecuencias de los actos libres.La necesidad, la crucifixión, el fusilamiento o la muerte vienen más tarde
Puede ocurrir que caigas en la esclavitud, pero hay algo que debes evitar a todo precio: volverte esclavo.
(AZ, Qué reparos opongo a la llamada Nueva Ola. Acantilado 2010. Traducción de Jerzy Slawomirski y Anna Rubió)
Quien admira siempre tiene razón (Paul Claudel, citado por AZ)
La belleza está en el centro de la fe (Pawel Florénski, citado por AZ)
"Whatever your sex or position, life
is a battle in which you are to show your pluck, and woe be to the coward. Whether
passed on a bed of sickness or a tented field, it is ever the same fair play
and admits no foolish distinction. Despair and postponement are cowardice and defeat.
Men were born to succeed, not to fail.
J. Farmer saw a phoebe to-day. They build in his cellar. I hear a few peepers from over the meadows at my
door in the evening."
HDT
(Diario 21 de marzo de 1853, fragmento)
La soledad de Dios es una imagen
de la fidelidad a uno mismo. El diablo es la imagen de la renuncia y de la traición,
como en el pasaje bíblico en el que Jesús es tentado con la compañía del mundo,
que es legión.
(...)
Dios está solo-pero el diablo
está lejos de estarlo. El ve una gran cantidad de compañía.
(HDT, Walden Capítulo V, Soledad)
God is alone,—but the devil, he is far
from being alone; he sees a great deal of company; he is legion. I am
no more lonely than a single mullein or dandelion in a pasture, or a
bean leaf, or sorrel, or a horse-fly, or a bumble-bee. I am no more
lonely than the Mill Brook, or a weathercock, or the northstar, or the
south wind, or an April shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider
in a new house
Aunque
soy lo bastante viejo como para haber descubierto que los sueños de la
juventud no son realizados en este estado de existencia, todavía creo
que siempre será la segunda felicidad más grande la de poder mirar bajo
los párpados del tiempo y contemplar lo permanente con serenidad, con el
claro convencimiento de que no lo logro.
HDT
BUSCO EL PRESENTE(" I SEEK THE PRESENT TIME")
Busco el Presente,
no otro ambiente,
vivir hoy,
no partir en otra dirección,
a París o a Roma,
o más lejos del hogar todavía.
Vive una muerte moral
aquél cuya vida no es coetánea
de su respiración.
¿Qué son las obras hechas
lejos del hogar?
¿Qué el mejor ensayo
sobre las ruinas de Roma?
Los caminos polvorientos,
lo que la Escritura dice,
este tiempo placentero
y todas las señales juntas-
los meandros del río,
todas las cosas, en resumen,
me prohíben la errancia
en pensamiento y en obra.
En el frío o en la sequía
no busques el Sur soleado
sino completa el viaje
de la soleada Hora Presente.
Si en ella fallas,
¿dónde podrás prevalecer?
Si no amas
tu propia tierra lo que más,
no encontrarás nada amable
en una costa lejana.
¿Qué puede haber en pinturas
o reliquias antiguas
si no amas
la última puesta de sol?
Si nadie viajara
hasta tener los medios
habría pocos viajes.
Para los Reyes y las Reinas
¿qué son los medios?
ellos son El Presupuesto
grandes gastos a pagar;-
Vida ganada, y en parte reservada,
grandes tareas a la mano
y libertad sin cuidado.
Todo el tiempo bien empleado,
Para usar,-
vestidos pagados, y ninguna renta
en tus zapatos;-
Algo para comer,
y algo para quemar,
y, sobre todo, ninguna necesidad de regresar;-
Pues aquellos que regresan,
¿no han fracasado,
donde quiera que hayan cabalgado
o viajado por tierra o por mar?
¿Todo tu heno recogido,-
todas tus deudas pagadas,-
todo tus deseos cumplidos?
Entonces podría suceder que tú también hubieras sido cosechado,
¿no estás ya muerto,
y sólo pendiente de ser enterrado?
El camino al "Hoy",
la línea férrea al "Aquí",
Nadie allanará este camino por nosotros,
ni lo acortará, me temo.
Hay montones de paradas
alrededor del mundo,
pero ninguna estación
a la puerta de un hombre;
Si nos aproximáramos
al secreto de las cosas,
no tendríamos que oír
cuándo suena el pitído del tren.
HDT
Una versión de este poemaaparece en el borrador de Walden, pero no fue incluido en su edición.
LO QUE TÚ HAS SIDO O ERES NO TIENE MUCHA IMPORTANCIA, LO QUE LO HIZO Y HACE POSIBLE SÍ TIENE IMPORTANCIA
ES QUIEN ERES
ESTO ES TU "PRAYER AFTER EATING"
WHATEVER YOU WERE OR ARE HAS NO MUCH IMPORTANCE BUT THAT THAT MADE AND MAKE IT POSSIBLE TO HAPPEN HAS IMPORTANCE
IT IS WHO YOU ARE
IT IS "YOUR" PRAYER AFTER EATING
@WENDELBERRY (WB)
@CZV
@PABLOd'ORS
ORACIÓN DESPUÉS DE LA COMIDA
He ingerido la luz
que avivó el ojo y la hoja
Pueda mi mente ser lúcida en alabanza
de lo que como, un breve fuego
de movimiento y de pensamiento.
Que yo pueda ser digno de mi alimento.
WB (Traducción Guillermo Ruiz)
PRAYER AFTER EATING
I have taken in the light
that quickened eye and leaf.
May my brain be bright with praise
of what I eat, in the brief blaze
of motion and of thought.
May I be worthy of my meat.
WB
El cristianismo es una religión que pone en el centro el cuerpo y el alimento
Christianism is a religion which puts the body and the meat at its center
Pablo d'Ors (Biografía de la luz)
ADVERTENCIA DE LOS PANADEROS
NO PODEMOS
AMASAR TODO
EL PAN DE VUESTRA VIDA
SOLO ENCENDIMOS
EL FUEGO QUE LO ALIMENTA
PERO ES VUESTRA
LA LEVADURA
QUE LO PRENDE
Y PARTE
Si llovía antes de haber cocido el pan, colocaba unas tablas sobre el
fuego y me guarecía allí a contemplar mi hogaza, y pasaba de esta manera unas
horas gratas.
(HDT, Walden, Capítulo 1,
traducción de Javier Alcoriza y Antonio Lastra)
"Every man
is the builder of a temple, called his body, to the god he worship after a
style purely his own, nor can he get off by hammering marble instead. We are
all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and
bones"
(HDT, Walden)
"Cada uno
es el constructor de un templo, llamado su cuerpo, a ese dios
reza según un estilo exclusivo suyo y no puede abandonar la
construcción cincelando mármol en su lugar.Todos nosotros somo escultores y
pintores y nuestro material es nuestra propia carne y sangre y huesos."
Everything
the dead predicted has turned out completely different. Or a little bit
different — which is to say, completely different.
Alma se tiene a veces. Nadie la posee sin pausa Y para siempre. Día tras día, Año tras año Pueden transcurrir sin ella. A veces solo en el arrobo Y los miedos de la infancia Anida por más tiempo. A veces nada más en el asombro De haber envejecido.
Wisława Szymborska [vi’swava ʂɨm’bɔrska] (2 July 1923 – 1 February 2012)
Everything
the dead predicted has turned out completely different. Or a little bit
different — which is to say, completely different.
Nothing's a gift, it's all on loan...I'm drowning in debts up to my ears. I'll have to pay for myself with my self, give up my life for my life.
"Nothing's a Gift
🇳🇱 When asked if this Dutch farmer believed he would be able to pass on his farm to his children, he couldn’t hold back his tears.
This is the heartbreaking reality of the #DutchFarmers in 2023. All because of Mark Rutte and his totalitarian land grab policies.
Coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) vaccines are associated with several ocular manifestations. Emerging evidence has been reported; however, the causality between the two is debatable. We aimed to investigate the risk of retinal vascular occlusion after COVID-19 vaccination. This retrospective cohort study used the TriNetX global network and included individuals vaccinated with COVID-19 vaccines between January 2020 and December 2022. We excluded individuals with a history of retinal vascular occlusion or those who used any systemic medication that could potentially affect blood coagulation prior to vaccination. To compare the risk of retinal vascular occlusion, we employed multivariable-adjusted Cox proportional hazards models after performing a 1:1 propensity score matching between the vaccinated and unvaccinated cohorts. Individuals with COVID-19 vaccination had a higher risk of all forms of retinal vascular occlusion in 2 years after vaccination, with an overall hazard ratio of 2.19 (95% confidence interval 2.00–2.39). The cumulative incidence of retinal vascular occlusion was significantly higher in the vaccinated cohort compared to the unvaccinated cohort, 2 years and 12 weeks after vaccination. The risk of retinal vascular occlusion significantly increased during the first 2 weeks after vaccination and persisted for 12 weeks. Additionally, individuals with first and second dose of BNT162b2 and mRNA-1273 had significantly increased risk of retinal vascular occlusion 2 years following vaccination, while no disparity was detected between brand and dose of vaccines. This large multicenter study strengthens the findings of previous cases. Retinal vascular occlusion may not be a coincidental finding after COVID-19 vaccination.
Elies Rogent, director de la Escuela de Arquitectura de Barcelona, dijo en el momento de otorgarle el título:
"Hemos dado el título a un loco o a un genio, el tiempo lo dirá"
LOS TÍTULOS NI DAN NI QUITAN NADA
¿Sabías que Gaudí concibió la basílica como un instrumento musical? De ahí se explicaría el número de torres y que, a cada una de sus fachadas, le asignara un sonido diferente que haría que el instrumento musical global que viniera a ser la Sagrada Familia se escuchara a más de 3 kilómetros de distancia.
La fascinación de Antoni Gaudí por la música está presente en muchos de sus escritos en los que él mismo afirmaba que el canto era "la expresión más sincera del ser humano".
No se puede entender la Sagrada Familia sin el componente musical que permite admirarla no solo con la vista sino también con el oído, ya que los órganos forman una parte muy importante de la basílica.
Good friend I want to go to the heaven of dogs said Stevenson...
Indeed !
Gosh that is 30 years old !
The last pic is the Ceiriog valley in Winter How are your eyes ?
Primavera de tulipanes en el jardín este año
Tiempo déjame jugar y ser
De Oro en la bendición de sus medios
(…)
Y nada me preocupó, en mis azules tratos celestes, que el tiempo concede,
En todo su armonía convirtiendo tan raras canciones matutinas,
Antes de que la niñez verde y dorada
Le siguiera ya sin su gracia
Dylan Thomas
I ran my heedless ways, My wishes raced through the house high hay And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs Before the children green and golden Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand, In the moon that is always rising, Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him fly with the high fields And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land. Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Corrí mis caminos no apresurados,
Mis deseos compitieron a través del alto heno de la casa
Y nada me preocupó, en mis tratos de azul celeste, que el tiempo permite
convertir en su total armonía tan pocas y tales canciones matutinas
Antes que los niños verdes y dorados
le sigan ya sin su gracia.
Nada me preocupó, en los días de blanco cordero, que el tiempo me tomara
hasta la concurrida y absobente estancia por la sombra de mi mano,
en la luna que siempre está creciendo,
ni que cabalgando al sueño
le oyera volar con los campos altos
Y despertar a la granja por siempre perdida desde la tierra sin niñez
Oh yo fui joven y dispuesto en la bendición de sus medios
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green, The night above the dingle starry, Time let me hail and climb Golden in the heydays of his eyes, And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves Trail with daisies and barley Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home, In the sun that is young once only, Time let me play and be Golden in the mercy of his means, And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold, And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air And playing, lovely and watery And fire green as grass. And nightly under the simple stars As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away, All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars Flying with the ricks, and the horses Flashing into the dark.
And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all Shining, it was Adam and maiden, The sky gathered again And the sun grew round that very day. So it must have been after the birth of the simple light In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm Out of the whinnying green stable On to the fields of praise.
And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long, In the sun born over and over, I ran my heedless ways, My wishes raced through the house high hay And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs Before the children green and golden Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand, In the moon that is always rising, Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him fly with the high fields And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land. Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Dylan Marlais Thomas was born on October 27, 1914, in Swansea, South
Wales. His father was an English literature professor at the local
grammar school and would often recite William Shakespeare, fortifying Thomas’s love for the rhythmic ballads of Gerard Manley Hopkins, W. B. Yeats, and Edgar Allan Poe.
And exchanged love's bright and fragile glow For the glitter and the rouge And in a moment they were swept before the deluge
Let the music keep our spirits high Let the buildings keep our children dry Let creation reveal its secrets by and by, by and by When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky
Some of them were angry At the way the earth was abused By the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power And they struggled to protect her from them Only to be confused By the magnitude of her fury in the final hour And when the sand was gone and the time arrived In the naked dawn only a few survived And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge
After Us, By Joseph Brodsky
After us, it is certainly not the flood,
and not drought either. In all likelihood, the climate
in the Kingdom of Justice, with its four seasons, will
be temperate, so that a choleric, a melancholic,
a sanguinic, and a phlegmatic could rule by turns
three months each. From the standpoint of an encyclopedia,
that’s plenty. Although, no doubt, caprices
of atmospheric pressure or those of temperature
might confuse a reformer. Still, the god of commerce
only revels in a rising demand for tweeds,
English umbrellas, worsted topcoats. His most dreaded enemies
are darned stockings and patched-up trousers.
It would seem that the rain outside the window
advocated precisely this distinctly frugal
approach to the landscape--more generally to all creation.
But the Constitution doesn’t mention rain.
There’s not a single reference in the Constitution
to barometers or, for that matter, to anyone
who, perched on a stool, holding a ball of yarn,
like some muscular Alcibiades, passes the
night pouring over a fashion magazine’s dog-eared pages
QUE LOS LABIOS QUE POSTULAN UNA HIPÓTESIS NO SEPAN
NADA DE LAS MANOS QUE FALSIFICAN EL EXPERIMENTO
(...)
LA RISA QUE SURGE DEL RESPETO A LA VERDAD
ES LA RISA QUE PERTENECE A LOS ENEMIGOS DEL PUEBLO
HA TERMINADO EL SIGLO DE LA SÁTIRA.YA NO NOS BURLAREMOS
DE LOS MONARCAS INEPTOS CON UNA LENGUA MALICIOSA
CM (Traducción de Xavier Farré)
"OUR WAY LIGHTED BY BURNING MEN"
All goes back to the earth,
and so I do not desire
pride of excess or power,
but the contentments made
by men who have had little:
the fisherman's silence
receiving the river's grace,
the gardner's musing on rows.
I lack the peace of simple things.
I am never wholly in place.
I find no peace or grace. We sell the world to buy fire,
our way lighted by burning men,
and that has bent my mind
and made me think of darkness
and wish for the dumb life of roots.
WENDELL BERRY
Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations. Children, who play life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by experience, that is, by failure. I have read in a Hindoo book, that "there was a king's son, who, being expelled in infancy from his native city, was brought up by a forester, and, growing up to maturity in that state, imagined himself to belong to the barbarous race with which he lived. One of his father's ministers having discovered him, revealed to him what he was, and the misconception of his character was removed, and he knew himself to be a prince. So soul," continues the Hindoo philosopher, "from the circumstances in which it is placed, mistakes its own character, until the truth is revealed to it by some holy teacher, and then it knows itself to be Brahme." I perceive that we inhabitants of New England live this mean life that we do because our vision does not penetrate the surface of things. We think that that is which appears to be. If a man should walk through this town and see only the reality, where, think you, would the "Mill-dam" go to? If he should give us an account of the realities he beheld there, we should not recognize the place in his description. Look at a meeting-house, or a court-house, or a jail, or a shop, or a dwelling-house, and say what that thing really is before a true gaze, and they would all go to pieces in your account of them. Men esteem truth remote, in the outskirts of the system, behind the farthest star, before Adam and after the last man. In eternity there is indeed something true and sublime. But all these times and places and occasions are now and here. God himself culminates in the present moment, and will never be more divine in the lapse of all the ages. And we are enabled to apprehend at all what is sublime and noble only by the perpetual instilling and drenching of the reality that surrounds us. The universe constantly and obediently answers to our conceptions; whether we travel fast or slow, the track is laid for us. Let us spend our lives in conceiving then. The poet or the artist never yet had so fair and noble a design but some of his posterity at least could accomplish it.
(...)
Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downward through the mud and slush of opinion, and prejudice, and tradition, and delusion, and appearance, that alluvion which covers the globe, through Paris and London, through New York and Boston and Concord, through Church and State, through poetry and philosophy and religion, till we come to a hard bottom and rocks in place, which we can call reality, and say, This is, and no mistake; and then begin, having a point d'appui, below freshet and frost and fire, a place where you might found a wall or a state, or set a lamp-post safely, or perhaps a gauge, not a Nilometer, but a Realometer, that future ages might know how deep a freshet of shams and appearances had gathered from time to time. If you stand right fronting and face to face to a fact, you will seethe sun glimmer on both its surfaces, as if it were a cimeter, and feel its sweet edge dividing you through the heart and marrow, and so you will happily conclude your mortal career. Be it life or death, we crave only reality. If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business.
#HDT
“You look around and you see so many people break under the strain under
the downward of whatever this is that we are going through. And you
look with disdain and sadness as you see people you know become
quislings. You see them revealed as cowards. You see them going along
with the new, new thing which is clearly a poisonous thing, a silly
thing,” he stated. “You know, saying things you know they don’t believe
because they want to keep their jobs. If there’s a single person in this
room who hasn’t seen that through George Floyd, COVID, and the Ukraine
war, raise your hand? Oh nobody? Right. You all know what I’m talking
about.”
“And you’re so disappointed in people. You are. And you realize that the
herd instinct is maybe the strongest instinct. I mean, it may be
stronger than the hunger and sex instincts, actually. The instinct,
which again, is inherent to be like everybody else and not to be cast
out of the group, not to be shunned.”
“But you look around and you see these people and some of them really
have paid a heavy price for telling the truth and they are cast out of
their groups whatever those groups are but they do it,”. “Anyway, I look on at those people with the deepest
possible admiration,” Carlson. “I’m paid to do that. I face no
penalty. Someone came up to me, ‘You’re so brave.’ Really?!?! I’m a talk
show host.”
“It’s like I can’t have any opinion I want. That’s my job. That’s why
they pay me. It’s not brave to tell the truth on a cable news show and
if you’re not doing that you’re really an idiot, you’re really craven.
You’re lying on television? Why would you do that? You’re literally
making a living to say what you think and you can’t even do that,
please.”
"The coward ever sings no song,
He listens to no chime
He has no heart, no tongue,
To build the lofty rhyme."
#THOREAU
My soul is distressed, my mind is at war Don't hug me, don't flatter me, don't turn on the charm I'll take a sword and hack off your arm
Black rider, black rider, hold it right there The size of your cock will get you nowhere I'll suffer in silence, I'll not make a sound Maybe I'll take the high moral ground Some enchanted evening, I'll sing you a song Black rider, black rider, you've been on the job too long
Permitasenos establecernos, y trabajar y asentar nuestros
pies hacia bajo a través del barro y el desecho de opinión, y prejuicio y
tradición y desilusión y apariencia, ese aluvión que cubre el globo, a través
de París y Londres, de Nueva York, Boston y Concord, a través de la Iglesia y el Estado, de la
poesía, la filosofía y la religión, hasta que lleguemos al duro fondo y a las
rocas, al que podamos llamar realidad, y decir: Ésta es, sin error, y entonces
comenzar, teniendo un punto de apoyo, debajo de las crecidas y de la nieve y el
fuego, un lugar donde puedas fundar un muro o un estado, o colocar una lámpara
de forma segura, o quizás una señal, no un metro del Nilo sino un metro de la realidad,
para que las edades futuras puedan conocer qué profundas han sido las crecidas
de las imposturas y apariencias que han contemplado de época en época.
In Zoltan Pozsar’s most recent interview pursuant to his missive entitled War and Peace, he
spoke with Resource Talks in mid March. During this conversation, he
laid out rather concisely the main points of that report. So we
listened and wrote a follow up to that piece outlining Zoltan’s key
interview points, which were tangentially different than War and Peace.
A coincidence has conveniently, burnt the documentary archive room of the Department of the Ministry of Health🔥
... where the registers relating to vaccination policies and mass confinement of the population are compiled 💉 ...and who were under investigation pic.twitter.com/FVuBvzlcvp
Bach’s MUSIC insight: if death could not defeat music's meaning,death should not be considered as human's defeat
Music is always confronted to death &war
That is the origin and meaning of music
If music prevails, "death is not the end"
"Hay un maravilloso artículo religioso de Kierkegaard: "Sobre la idea consoladora de que ante Dios nunca tenemos razón". Este consuelo, que aquí tiene un sentido religioso, es en realidad un hecho fundamental que forma toda nuestra experiencia humana. Tenemos que aprender a respetar al Otro y a lo Otro. O lo que es lo mismo, tenemos que aprender a no tener razón.Tenemos que aprender a perder en el juego...esto empieza a los dos años o quizás antes. Quien no lo aprende pronto, nunca resolverá los problemas mayores de la vida posterior.
(...)
Quizás no sea, pues, demasiado atrevido decir, como última consecuencia política de nuestras reflexiones, que tal vez sobrevivamos como humanidad si conseguimos aprender que no no solo debemos aprovechar nuestros recursos y posibilidades de acción, sino aprender a detenernos ante el Otro y su diferencia, así como ante la naturaleza y las culturas orgánicas de pueblos y estados, y a conocer a lo Otro y los Otros como a los Otros de Nosotros mismos, a fin de lograr una participación recíproca".
(Hans-Georg Gadamer: La diversidad de Europa. Traducción de Pilar Giralt Gorina)
