Scorpion

STORY -- THE SCORPION

"An old man saw a scorpion drowning and decided to pull it out from the water. He calmly extended his hand to reach the creature. When he did, the scorpion stung him. With the effect of the pain, the old man let go the creature and it fell back into the water. The man realizing that the scorpion was drowning again, got back and tried to rescue it but then again it stung him. He let go of it again. A young boy standing by, approached the old man and said, "Excuse me Sir, you are going to hurt yourself trying to save the evil-vicious creature, why do you insist? Don't you realize that each time you try to help the scorpion, it stings you?" The man replied, "The nature of the scorpion is to sting and mine is to help. My nature will not change in helping the scorpion." So the man thought for a while and used a leaf from a nearby tree and pulled the scorpion out from the water and saved it's life. MORAL LESSON: Do not change your nature. If someone hurts you, just take precautions. Some pursue happiness while others create it. Let your conscience be your guide in whatever you do."

Craciun Fericit! :)

Die achtjährige Virginia aus New York wollte es ganz genau wissen. Darum schrieb Sie an die Tageszeitung "Sun" einen Brief: Ich bin 8 Jahre alt. Einige von meinen Freunden sagen, es gibt keinen Weihnachtsmann. Papa sagt, was in der "Sun" steht, ist immer war. Bitte, sagen Sie mir: Gibt es einen Weihnachtsmann? Die Sache war dem Chefredakteur Francis Church so wichtig, das er selber antwortete - auf der Titelseite der "Sun": "Virginia, Deine kleinen Freunde haben nicht recht. Sie glauben nur was sie sehen; sie glauben, dass es nicht geben kann, was sie mit Ihrem kleinen Geist nicht erfassen können. Aller Menschengeist ist klein, ob er nun einem Erwachsenen oder einem Kind gehört. Im Weltall verliert er sich wie ein winziges Insekt. Ja, Virginia, es gibt einen Weihnachtsmann. Es gibt ihn so gewiß wie die Liebe und Großherzigkeit und Treue. Weil es all das gibt, kann unser Leben schön und heiter sein. Wie dunkel wäre die Welt, wenn es keinen Weihnachtsmann gäbe! Es gäbe dann auch keine Virginia, keinen Glauben, keine Poesie - gar nichts, was das Leben erst erträglich machte. Ein Flackerrest an sichtbarem Schönen bliebe übrig. Aber das Licht der Kindheit, das die Welt ausstrahlt, müsste verlöschen. Es gibt einen Weihnachtsmann, sonst könntest Du auch den Märchen nicht glauben. Gewiss, Du könntest deinen Papa bitten, er solle am Heiligen Abend Leute ausschicken, den Weihnachtsmann zu fangen. Und keiner von ihnen bekäme den Weihnachtsmann zu Gesicht - was würde das beweisen? Kein Mensch sieht ihn einfach so. Das beweist gar nichts. Die wichtigsten Dinge bleiben meistens unsichtbar. Die Elfen zum Beispiel, wenn sie auf Mondwiesen tanzen. Trotzdem gibt es sie. All die Wunder zu denken - geschweige denn sie zu sehen -, das vermag nicht der Klügste auf der Welt. Was Du auch siehst, Du siehst nie alles. Du kannst ein Kaleidoskop aufbrechen und nach den schönsten Farbfiguren suchen. Du wirst einige bunte Scherben finden, nichts weiter. Warum? Weil es einen Schleier gibt, der die wahre Welt verhüllt, einen Schleier, den nicht einmal die Gewalt auf der Welt zerreißen kann. Nur Glaube und Poesie und Liebe können ihn lüften. Dann werden die Schönheit und Herrlichkeit dahinter zu erkennen sein. "Ist das denn auch wahr?" kannst Du fragen. Virginia, nichts auf der ganzen Welt ist wahrer und nichts beständiger. Der Weihnachtsmann lebt, und er wird ewig leben. Sogar in zehnmal zehntausend Jahren wird er da sein, um Kinder wie Dich und jedes offene Herz mit Freude zu erfüllen. Frohe Weihnacht, Virginia". "DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. "Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. "Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' "Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? "VIRGINIA O'HANLON. "115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET." VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge. Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished. Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world. You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Craciun Fericit si La Multi Ani :)

1 Juni :D

Lied Vom Kindsein
– Peter Handke

Als das Kind Kind war,
ging es mit hängenden Armen,
wollte der Bach sei ein Fluß,
der Fluß sei ein Strom,
und diese Pfütze das Meer.

Als das Kind Kind war,
wußte es nicht, daß es Kind war,
alles war ihm beseelt,
und alle Seelen waren eins.

Als das Kind Kind war,
hatte es von nichts eine Meinung,
hatte keine Gewohnheit,
saß oft im Schneidersitz,
lief aus dem Stand,
hatte einen Wirbel im Haar
und machte kein Gesicht beim fotografieren.

Als das Kind Kind war,
war es die Zeit der folgenden Fragen:
Warum bin ich ich und warum nicht du?
Warum bin ich hier und warum nicht dort?
Wann begann die Zeit und wo endet der Raum?
Ist das Leben unter der Sonne nicht bloß ein Traum?
Ist was ich sehe und höre und rieche
nicht bloß der Schein einer Welt vor der Welt?
Gibt es tatsächlich das Böse und Leute,
die wirklich die Bösen sind?
Wie kann es sein, daß ich, der ich bin,
bevor ich wurde, nicht war,
und daß einmal ich, der ich bin,
nicht mehr der ich bin, sein werde?

und so ist es immer noch :) 

When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.

When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.

When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair,
and made no faces when photographed.

When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell
not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people.
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn’t exist before I came to be,
and that, someday, I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am? 

And so it is even now. :)

Paste :)

Nicu Alifantis - Clopote de Paști

Asculta mai multe audio folk


Text:

Miezul noptii, e-o tacere peste tot orasul, sfanta…
Dar deodata glas de clopot tot vazduhul il framanta!

Da semnalul, ca un tunet, primul, clopotul cel mare,
Grav, maret vuind in noapte, o razboinica chemare

Raspandind talaz de sunet ca talazurile marii,
Tot mai grav, tot mai departe, in adancurile zarii.

Desteptat din somn, raspunde clopotul cel mijlociu,
Cam dogit, batranul clopot, dar sfatos, cucernic, viu…

In sfarsit, cu ritmul vesel, clopotele mici si ele
Bat sonor in noaptea clara sub albastru plin de stele,

Iar metalicele note revarsate val cu val
Par o grindina de aur pe-o cupola de cristal.

De departe-n lungi ecouri, mii de sunete de clopot
Isi amesteca-armonia in acest feeric ropot.

-”Primavara” lung rasuna prin vazduhuri cadentat,
Iar ecoul bland raspunde: “Adevarat a inviat!”…

Si cand templele sfintite deschid vechile lor porti
E-ntr-un gand intreg pamantul: “A-nviat Christos din morti!”…

Fratilor, cand voci de clopot spun minunea lui Iisus,
Ridicati-va din tarna, va-naltati mai sus, mai sus!

Desteptati-va si-aprindeti iarasi candela vegherii
Salutati in mandre canturi sarbatoarea primaverii.

Uniti glasurile voastre cu al clopotelor cor
Innoiti-va viata la al vietii sfânt izvor!…

(C. Z. Buzdugan)

Niste mici fragmente cool din La Pasti de George Cosbuc :

E pace-n cer si pe pamant.
Rasuflul cald al primaverii
Adus-a zilele-nvierii.
Si cat e de frumos in sat!
Crestinii vin tacuti din vale
Si doi de se-ntalnesc in cale
Isi zic: Hristos a inviat!
Si rade-atata sarbatoare
Din chipul lor cel ars de soare. :)

Paste Fericit :) Frohe Ostern :)

Kind :)

" Mi se spune din ce in ce mai des ca tb sa ma maturizez, sa ma maturizez, sa ma maturizez.Habar n-am ce inseamna asta.Din cand in cand reusesc sa simulez.Si-al naibii,merge.Apoi sunt deprinderile si alte ritmuri pe care le dobandesti.Studiez tot mai atent lumea adultilor-ei ma trateaza deja ca pe una de-a lor,cu greu reusesc sa nu ma dau de gol….Ma uit la astia de varsta mea.Unii au trecut deja de partea cealalta,cei mai multi.Fac fata.Culmea e ca le sta bine acolo.Ma impresioneaza,ii admir chiar,dar ii ocolesc.Ne-am pierdut legaturile,nu ne mai inrudeste nimic.Pe unii asemenea mie ii recunosc d la o posta,oricat s-ar fandosi maturiceste.Ne recunoastem dintr-o mie.Suntem atat de putini. :D "

Frohe Weihnachten :)

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. "Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. "Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' "Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? "VIRGINIA O'HANLON. "115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET." VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge. Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished. Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world. You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Craciun Fericit si La Multi Ani :)

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