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  • vertebrata

    The First Elegy

    Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the Angelic
    Orders? And even if one were to suddenly
    take me to its heart, I would vanish into its
    stronger existence. For beauty is nothing but
    the beginning of terror, that we are still able to bear,
    and we revere it so, because it calmly disdains
    to destroy us. Every Angel is terror.
    And so I hold myself back and swallow the cry
    of a darkened sobbing. Ah, who then can
    we make use of? Not Angels: not men,
    and the resourceful creatures see clearly
    that we are not really at home
    in the interpreted world. Perhaps there remains
    some tree on a slope, that we can see
    again each day: there remains to us yesterday’s street,
    and the thinned-out loyalty of a habit
    that liked us, and so stayed, and never departed.
    Oh, and the night, the night, when the wind full of space
    wears out our faces – whom would she not stay for,
    the longed-for, gentle, disappointing one, whom the solitary heart
    with difficulty stands before. Is she less heavy for lovers?
    Ah, they only hide their fate between themselves.
    Do you not know yet? Throw the emptiness out of your arms
    to add to the spaces we breathe; maybe the birds
    will feel the expansion of air, in more intimate flight.

    (...)

    Rainer Maria

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    16.11.2008. (00:33)    -   -   -   -  

  • missillusion

    "ANGEL of gaiety, have you tasted grief?
    Shame and remorse and sobs and weary spite,
    And the vague terrors of the fearful night
    That crush the heart up like a crumpled leaf?
    Angel of gaiety, have you tasted grief?

    Angel of kindness, have you tasted hate?
    With hands clenched in the shade and tears of gall,
    When Vengeance beats her hellish battle-call,
    And makes herself the captain of our fate,
    Angel of kindness, have you tasted hate?

    Angel of health, did you ever know pain,
    Which like an exile trails his tired footfalls
    The cold length of the white infirmary walls,
    With lips compressed, seeking the sun in vain?
    Angel of health, did ever you know pain?

    Angel of beauty, do you wrinkles know?
    Know you the fear of age, the torment vile
    Of reading secret horror in the smile
    Of eyes your eyes have loved since long ago?
    Angel of beauty, do you wrinkles know?

    Angle of happiness, and joy, and light,
    Old David would have asked for youth afresh
    From the pure touch of your enchanted flesh;
    I but implore your prayers to aid my plight,
    Angel of happiness, and joy, and light.
    "

    C.B.

    Sviđa mi se taj novi anđeo....

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    16.11.2008. (01:20)    -   -   -   -  

  • pooka

    to je onaj Svedeborg, koji je btw. ismijan i od Kanta i od svog bivsheg stovatelja, Williama Blake-a, vrlo lijepo sistematizirao. elem, zamisli da Glavash zavrsi u zatvoru pa prevede Paradise Lost ko Djilas, ha ha ha...

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    16.11.2008. (18:21)    -   -   -   -  

  • NEMANJA

    I stane kod riječi: his dark materials.
    Ovaj smo razgovor, o Miltonu i Đilasu, već više puta vodili, i ne samo u vječnosti.
    Jednom smo prigodom, recimo, spomenuli Miltona i u ovom kontekstu:
    @Pookimire, samoupravljanje je ingeniozan termin. Naime, o čemu je u biti riječ: riječ je upravo o biti, ljudskoj biti, shvaćenoj kao praksis u smislu nasljedovanja samodjelatne biti prirode ljudskim stvaralaštvom: čovjek je tu razumljen i kao natura naturata, tj. biće koje je svoj vlastiti proizvod, ali i kao natura naturans, tj. kao biće koje je po svojoj biti proizvoditelj, onaj koji među bitima (inter-esse) izvodi na vidjelo, o-stvaruje, realizira, pro-izvodi sve što uopće može biti, pa tako i sebe sama, u povijesnom procesu postajanja čovjeka ljudskim bićem. To samo-upravljanje zapravo je najviša moguća forma ljudskog rada, dakle rad shvaćen kao apsolutno upravljanje samoga sebe i samim sobom u procesu ozbiljenja svih navlastitih ljudskih potencija! Ne moram kazati da je ovako mišljen self-management gotovo identičan mističkoj praksi: čovjek, po svojoj biti proizvođač, sebe proizvodi kao vlastiti proizvod, i to po logici tko bješe ništa bit će sve, dakle kreacionistički, ex nihilo! To je ona, tebi toliko draga sloboda da se nad bezdanom visi o vlastitoj niti, kao pauk! Zanimljivo, no Marx u razlici spram otuđenog rada umjetničku kreaciju vidi sličnom slikom: kao što dudov svilac svilu prede iz sebe, nesputano, neposredno, izvorno, slobodno, tako Milton pjeva! ("Milton je proizveo 'Izgubljeni raj' kao što dudov svilac proizvodi svilu, kao aktiviranje vlastite prirode. Kasnije je prodao svoj proizvod za 5 funti i tako postao trgovac." (Marx 1976.: 1044) )
    Dakle, samoupravljanje je izrazito spekulativan pojam!
    19.03.2007. (08:58)

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    16.11.2008. (23:42)    -   -   -   -  

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