Monday, July 30, 2012

the day came

R I S K 

by Ana├»s Nin

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom.

“The living self has one purpose only: to come into its own fullness of being, as a tree comes into full blossom, or a bird into spring beauty, or a tiger into lustre.”

~ D. H. Lawrence


  1. beautiful....

    reading this post of yours makes me think of this poem (hope i haven't shared it with you before)
    by the swedish Karin Boye (translated by Jenny Nunn)

    Of Course It Hurts

    Of course it hurts when buds burst.
    Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
    Why would all our fervent longing
    be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
    The bud was the casing all winter.
    What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
    Of course it hurts when buds burst,
    pain for that which grows
    and for that which envelops.

    Of course it is hard when drops fall.
    Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
    clammer on the branch, swell and slide -
    the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
    Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
    hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
    yet sit there and just quiver -
    hard to want to stay
    and to want to fall.

    Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond
    the tree's buds burst as if in jubilation,
    then, when fear no longer exists,
    the branch's drops tumble in a shimmer,
    forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
    forgetting that they were fearful of the journey -
    feeling for a second their greatest security,
    resting in the trust
    that creates the world.


    sunshine here today, enjoying it hugely!

  2. how lovely! thanks so much for sharing! i need your advice on scandanavian poetry in translation....can you suggest a book or two? : )


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