Consolatio tag:typepad.com,2003:weblog-102987 2010-03-20T08:27:27+01:00 Consolation in time of grief TypePad Vissi d'arte: Why, why, Lord? tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef01310fbfb43c970c 2010-03-20T08:27:27+01:00 2010-03-20T08:34:03+01:00 I lived for art, I lived for love, I never hurt a living soul! With a hidden hand I helped whenever I heard about misery. Always with earnest faith my prayer went up from the holy shrines. Always with earnest... Sedulia Steve Jobs: Everything falls away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0120a8db3b0f970b 2010-02-27T06:54:58+01:00 2010-02-27T06:56:32+01:00 Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these... Sedulia Chen Jiru hosts his own funeral party tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef01287769b208970c 2010-02-05T21:41:16+01:00 2010-02-05T21:41:16+01:00 Calligraphy by Chen Jiru At such an hour... Sedulia Zhuangzi: I have no one to talk to now tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0120a8033da6970b 2010-01-24T01:00:54+01:00 2010-01-24T01:01:38+01:00 Zhuangzi was in a funeral procession and... Sedulia Federico García Lorca: The Ghazal of the Dead Child tag:typepad.com,2003:post-4574184 2009-12-25T01:32:55+01:00 2009-12-25T01:32:55+01:00 Every evening in Granada, every evening a child dies. Every evening the water sits down to converse with its friends. The dead wear wings of moss. The cloudy wind and the clean wind are two pheasants who fly by the... Sedulia Emily Dickinson: I measure every grief I meet with analytic eyes tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0120a777588d970b 2009-12-23T21:46:58+01:00 2009-12-23T21:50:06+01:00 I measure every grief I meet with analytic eyes; I wonder if it weighs like mine, or has an easier size. I wonder if they bore it long, or did it just begin? I could not tell the date of... Sedulia Callimachus: The house beheld a two-fold woe tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0120a6f1576b970b 2009-11-30T22:11:00+01:00 2009-12-23T06:06:09+01:00 At morn we buried Melanippus; as the sun set the maiden Basilo died by her own hand, as she could not endure to lay her brother on the pyre and live; and the house beheld a two-fold woe, and all... Sedulia Capercaillie: The stars I gaze upon seem different since that day tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef012875aac26b970c 2009-11-17T01:29:48+01:00 2009-12-23T21:54:22+01:00 The stars I gaze upon seem different since that day, While one shines brighter, another fades away, You light up the winter sky, the moon at your command, Convinced you didn't mean it, but your soul had different plans. This... Sedulia Medieval Irish poet: The fort that outlasts the kings tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0120a62e597b970c 2009-10-11T01:57:30+02:00 2009-10-11T01:57:30+02:00 The Fort of Rathangan The fort over against the oak-wood, Once it was Bruidge's, it was Cathal's, It was Aed's, it was Ailill's, It was Conaing's, it was Cuilíne's, and it was Maeldúin's: the fort remains after each in his... Sedulia William Cullen Bryant: Life's bright promise withdrawn tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c82d353ef0115706d23df970c 2009-06-26T16:32:46+02:00 2009-06-26T16:32:46+02:00 I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn. --William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) in "Waiting by the Gate," Thirty Poems (1864) Sedulia