when feet will become useless

My ashes might rest there one day.
Above the graveyard there I once saw, in a dream, a thangka displayed in the sky, floating. Awesome, magnificent in a portion of sky.
That place might become ashes, just like my body.
The graveyard on a hill, beholding all creatures at its feet, observing the visitors walking or driving toward the place.
A graveyard that had been nomadic until 1959.
Being a stranger here, being a stranger there, may my ashes remain there, were i once saw a thangka. The place of childhood memories of so many summers. Bicycles, colourful fences, the stillness, dirty legs running along old paths and roads,all troughs in the fields that became boats sailing imaginary seas of grass, our colonisation of the useless (in summer) stone bridge, and the old wooden charriots...Worn out shoes.

Jacobo Fijman en otro camino

Por algún motivo desconocido volví a releer los versos del poeta Jacobo Fijman (1898 Besarabia - 1970 Argentina), aún bastante desconocido. Desde que descubrí hace no pocos años sus versos en una antología de poesía hispanoamericana de vanguardia, he seguido recordando el poema “crepúsculo” y la sensación de aspereza, dolor, punzadas, colores, luz, plasticidad (versos casi fotográficos) y lucidez de tantos versos.

Se pueden ver algunos de sus poemas en:

http://www.palabravirtual.com/index.php?ir=crit.php&wid=197&show=poemas&p=Jacobo+Fijman

Todos merecen ser leídos, pero para apreciar algunos de ellos conviene leer la biografía del señor Fijman. Si no se sabe de su conversión del judaísmo al catolicismo, de sus crisis espirituales, de sus internados en hospitales psiquiátricos, de su contacto con artistas y autores europeos, sus versos se ven borrosos.

Y tras la lectura de sus versos despliega sus alas un camino intermedio, entre el surrealismo, un misticismo incomprendido y otro tipo de lucidez.

We are not so free

We could think of individual freedom in terms of Power Parity Purchase (PPP). We can think of freedom in terms of how aware we are of being free. I don’t think we often thing of freedom, but rather in consuming, everything outside, feelings. Freedom in mass culture societies is something different to freedom in dictatorships. Thinking of ppp, any degree of freedom, also when it’s really small, is worth greater than the degree of freedom we formally have nowadays. I’d say that in practice we’re not that free nowadays; we became less imaginative, less aware of the importance of freedom....and most of us are prone to think of the same range of things and think and behave more or less the same way...in fact nowadays world is some other kind of dictatorship and maybe we’re manipulated and we think we’re acting freely. And maybe under many dictatorships, some segments of the population were more aware of the manipulation and used imagination as a tool of freedom. Freedom is maybe not saying, writing what we want freely, but not being manipulated. Manipulation kills freedom. Imagination kills manipulation. Who is freer? A dollar is not worth the same here as in Laos.

J, oh my J

AI PEXS, “beautiful scar”

http://music.download.com/aipexs/3615-8724_32-100340372.html?tag=MDL_artist_tab_apsongs

Recently I came across this song (and band...i didn’t know the Ai Pexs). The song ended up being one of those to be remembered and listened to over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

The lyrics are pretty simple but there’s something in them I like ...and the rhythm....uhm...I’d say it’s rather hypnotising, with some Asian reminiscences (well, that’s very subjective)...but the band comes from Sweden.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

rescat de versicles V

"Ciutat esbalandrada i sense muralles,

és l’home que no sap dominar-se."

(Proverbis 25,28, dins el Segon Recull de Sentències de Salomó)

rescat de versicles IV

"No t’encenguis contra els qui fan el mal,

no t’exaltis contra els malvats:

no hi ha un després per al malèfic,

el malvat serà llàntia que s’apaga. "
(Proverbis 24, 19-20 dintre del Primer Recull de Sentències dels Savis)

rescat de versicles III

"qui reprèn algú acabarà essent més estimat
que l’home de llengua aduladora."
(Proverbis 28,23, dintre del Segon Recull de Sentències de Salomó)

rescat de versicles II

"L’odi atia la brega,


l’amor cobreix les ofenses." (Proverbis 10,12)

rescat de versicles I

"Aigua profunda és la intenció de l’home:


el qui és sagaç l’arriba a pouar." (Proverbis 20,5)

aplicacions i extrapolacions

En una de les meves lectures ocasionals de la Bíblia --cercant part de les arrels de la cultura occidental i cercant fragments interessants per fer reflexions i comparacions-- (bé, de l'Antic Testament en especial) en la nocturnitat, fa mesos vaig trobar a l'atzar el fragment d'aquesta entrada. Fa temps que el volia inserir per aquest blog però fins ahir que no vaig trobar coses interessant als Proverbis, no vaig agafar la determinació.

“Lamentació sobre la corrupció del poble

Pobre de mi! Sóc com qui espigola després de la sega o com qui esgotima després de la verema! No veig cap raïm per menjar ni la figa primerenca que cerco amb delit. L’home fidel ha desaparegut del país, no hi ha un sol just entre els homes. Tots estan a l’aguait per vessar sang, es posen paranys els uns als altres. Tenen les mans bones per a fer mal: els governants posen condicions per a obrar bé, els jutges exigeixen una paga, els poderosos parlen de les seves cobejances i ordeixen com dur-les a terme. El millor d’ells s’assembla a les ortigues, el més just és pitjor que una tanca d’espines. Arriba el dia de passar comptes, el dia que els teus sentinelles anunciaven: ara és l’hora que quedaran confosos! No confieu en els companys ni us refieu dels amics; guarda’t d’obrir la boca davant la dona que dorm als teus braços. Perquè el fill insultarà el pare, la filla el rebel·larà contra la mare, i la nora, contra la sogra: els enemics de cadascú seran la gent de casa seva.” (MIQUEES 7,1-6) --de la Bíblia catalana de traducció interconfessional, ed. Claret, 1993--