Can You Read My Mind...?

The problem is, when we don't find a logical answer, we settle for a stupid one. Ritual is what happens when we run out of rationale.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

If you forget Me / Si Tu Me Oldivas

One of my favorite poem. Still, it's always about love, pals ;) And I also put the real language that is in Spanish language

If you forget me
by : Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists:
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Si Tu Me Oldivas

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

T� sabes c�mo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento oto�o en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la le�a,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe:
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran peque�os barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejar� de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habr� olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del coraz�n en que tengo ra�ces,
que en esa d�a,
a esa hora
levantar� los brazos
y saldr�n mis ra�ces
a buscar otra tierra.

si cada d�a,
cada hora,
sientes que a m� est�s destinada
con dulzura implacable,
si cada d�a sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor m�o, ay m�a,
en m� todo ese fuego se repite,
en m� nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estar� en tus brazos
sin salir de los m�os.

Pablo Neruda

Friday, April 22, 2011

Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Native American Leader

Hari ini saya teringat syair yang dituliskan dibuku Spiritual Quotient dan segera saya mencari-cari di Google syair tersebut itu kembali. Sebenarnya, saya sudah menulisnya dibeberapa notebook saya, tapi buku itu entah dimana keberadaannya karena saya gunakan terakhir kali 4 tahun yang lalu. Setiap teringat bait per bait kata-kata ini, air mata saya tak terasa sudah mengalir. Sungguh, ini adalah syair-syair terindah yang saya temui. Semoga setiap mengingat kata-kata ini, saya selalu sadar akan kebesaran Tuhan. Amin!

Today, I remember about a poem that have been written in Spiritual Quotient (by Ian Marshall) and inspired by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Native American Leader. So, i searched it in Google. Actually, I've wrote it in every notebook when i was in college, but I have no idea where the notebook gone now because last time I used that book was 4 years ago. Every time I remember each words of those poem, I can't realize that teardrop has already flowing through my cheek. Truly, that is the most beautiful words that I've ever read. Hopefully, in every sec I remember those poem will always reminding me about the Most Holy of ALLAH SWT. And for you, may it giving you a calm and power to face this life :)

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.