| Scavengings |
[20 Jun 2003|02:07pm] |
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mood |
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 excited |
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music |
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"The Girl from Ipanema" by Stan Getz |
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I really want to look into Hinduism now... I'd forgotten about this poem for the longest time. Shameful... And Stan Getz! That funny duck was hiding in my CD's... All this great stuff unearthed today....
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Brahma
If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forget to me is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanished gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
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