Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Sound of Solitude, Sound of Mind

I will not 
Go away 

Whispered the wind 
To the pines 

As long as 
You wish 

I stay.


  1. I can hear this lovely little poem sounding through the majestic silence of great trees (your pines, our redwood), across large waters, from the stillness of the night.

    (Reminded of the German "Rauschen" -- that gentle rush of either wind or water, hard to say which, heard faintly from the edge of the forest, in which Adorno located the essence of the Lyric.)

  2. Whenever I hear/see the wind sounding through our pines, this poem always comes to mind:

    When will you speak again?
    They are children of many men, our words.
    They are sown and brought forth like infants;
    they take root and are nourished with blood.
    As pines
    keep the shape of the wind
    even when the wind has fled and is no longer there,
    so words
    guard the shape of man
    even when man has fled and is no longer there.
    Perhaps the stars seek to speak
    which trod upon your nakedness one night--
    the Swan, the Archer, the Scorpion--
    perhaps those.
    But where will you be at the moment when,
    here in this theater, the light comes on?

    --George Seferis, poem #6, Part Two of "Three Secret Poems"

    Thanks again for sharing your thoughts.


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