"Des sphères innombrables qui brillent dans l'espace infini, chacune éclairant une douzaine environ de sphères plus petites tournant autour d'elles, brûlantes à l'intérieur et recouvertes d'une couche figée et froide sur laquelle une couche de moisissure a engendré des êtres vivants et connaissants - voilà la vérité empirique, le réel, le monde."
A. Schopenhauer
(Compléments au Monde comme volonté et représentation, Livre 1, chapitre 1)
"Les végétaux, les animaux et l'homme ne sont peut-être qu'une maladie sur la peau des planètes"
Rétif de la Bretonne
(Les nuits de paris)
(Les nuits de paris)
"Quand je vois des hommes qui rampent sur un atome, c'est à dire la Terre, qui n'est qu'un point de l'univers, se proposer directement pour modèle de la providence, je ne sais comment accorder tant d'extravagance avec tant de petitesse."
Montesquieu
(Lettres Persanes LIX)
8 commentaires:
Bien sur que t'es connaisant de ce poême dont jsuis sûr that I have alluded to.
What if a day, or a month, or a yeare
Crown thy delights with a thousand sweet contentings?
Cannot a chance of a night or an howre
Crosse thy desires with as many sad tormentings?
Fortune, honor, beauty, youth
Are but blossoms dying;
Wanton pleasure, doating love,
Are but shadowes flying.
All our joyes are but toyes,
Idle thoughts deceiving;
None have power of an howre
In their lives bereaving.
Earthes but a point to the world, and a man
Is but a point to the worlds compared centure:
Shall then a point of a point be so vaine
As to triumph in a seely points adventure?
All is hassard that we have,
There is nothing biding;
Dayes of pleasure are like streames
Through faire meadowes gliding.
Weale and woe, time doth goe,
Time is ever turning:
Secret fates guide our states,
Both in mirth and mourning.
More to be said in state which does not involve a few beers ;)
Thomas Campion
That's a beautiful song, Jo.
Hear it here :
http://www.sophiasongfire.com/music-16.html
T'was, in fact, a popular old song
Attributed to Campion.
But no one knows exactly
Who authored that little marvel.
I do suck at poetry.
Anijo,
Yes, I remember you once mentioned Thomas Campion which led me to WIKI.
I didn't think of poetry while writing the post although on second thought it is obvious that such an image and the quotes should turn minds to the only thinkable alternative : Philosophie and/or poetry.
Since you chose this poem I guess it's the most appropriate one that goes along this Food for thought
Very beautiful indeed and alas with a 16th century flavor that cannot be rendered in another language.
All is hassard that we have,
There is nothing biding;
Dayes of pleasure are like streames
Through faire meadowes gliding.
Weale and woe, time doth goe,
Time is ever turning:
Secret fates guide our states,
Both in mirth and mourning.
Don't you feel there's some kind of Indian (buddhism) echo in those lines?
"Floating down the stream of time from life to life with me;
Makes no difference where you are or where you'd like to be"
Is it my comput or is the Oscar Peterson playlist somehow corrupted?
I probably have loaded it with too many titles.
Zapow,
It is a poem by Campion used by others in song. The song that you linked to is lovely.
Don't you feel there's some kind of Indian (buddhism) echo in those lines?
Yes, Flocon, it seems so in that it is an attitude of accepting what is. Que sera sera, what will be will be... (you know the tune) ;)
The playlist might have been corruputed yesterday, but not today.
Anijo,
Yes I know the song by Doris Day (what ever will be, will be) since it was the musical score of the movie by Alfred Hitchock The man who knew too much (1956).
As a matter of fact I was far too young to know at that time but since the song was a hit it was played on the radio and I suppose that's how I heard it the first time.
Like you and everyone I guess, tunes we hear when we're so young keep running in our memories all of our lives.
It took some 50 odd years before I found out what that song was and where it came from!
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