Life

Original

La edad nos cubre como la llovizna,
interminable y arido es el tiempo,
una pluma de sal toca tu rostro,
una gotera carcomio mi traje:

el tiempo no distingue entre mis manos
o un vuelo de naranjas en las tuyas:
pica con nieve y azadon la vida:
la vida tuya que es la mia.

La vida mia que te di se llena
de años, come el volumen de un racimo.
Regresaran las uvas a la tierra.

Y aun alla abajo el tiempo sigue siendo,
esperado, lloviendo sobre el polvo,
avido de borrar hasta la ausencia.

Pablo Neruda

Translation

Age covers us like drizzle;
time is interminable and arid,
a salt feather touches your face;
a trickle ate though my shirt.

Time doesn't distinguish between my hands
or a flock of oranges in yours:
life chips away with snow and picks,
at your life, which is my life.

My life, which I gave you, fills
with years like a swelling cluster of fruits.
The grape will return to the earth.

And even down there time
continues, waiting, raining
on the dust, eager to erase even absence.

Pablo Neruda

(Hover over underlined text for full effect)

Sometimes life reminds you of how short our consciousness and awareness of everything that is .. is. Especially when you lose a close loved one. Yet that blink of consciousness is an inseparable part of our universe.

There is evidence that the universe had a beginning with a Big bang, and that there is an intelligent underlying order to everything.

The odds of you being a witness to the aftermath of this event are an infinite impossibility (mathematically).... and yet here you are with another infinite impossibility (me) reminding you that you are here to enable the divine purpose of the universe to unfold, that is how important you are.

Thomas Collado

There are 2 kinds of individuals in the world: individuals who decide to get happy, and the ones who choose to be unhappy. Surprisingly, happiness does not arrive from popularity, lots of money, other people, or material assets. Instead, it arises from within.

The wealthiest individual on the planet may very well be unhappy while somebody dwelling in the slums of an under developed country could be joyful and content. Happy individuals are joyful due to the fact they make themselves happy. They keep a positive perspective on life and stay at peace with themselves.

Just how do they achieve that?

"WE ARE NOT OUR BODIES, OUR POSSESSIONS,

OR OUR CAREERS. WHO WE ARE IS

DIVINE LOVE

AND THAT IS

INFINITE."

Dr. Wayne Dyer

1940 - 2015

Original

Del mar hacia las colles corre la vaga niebla
como el vapor de un buey enterrado en el frio,
y largas lenguas de agua se acumulan cubriendo
el mes que a nuestras vidas prometio ser celeste.

Adelantado otoño,panal silbante de hojas,
cuando sobre los pueblos palpita tu estandarte
cantan mujeres locos despidiendo a los rios,
los caballos relinchan hacia la patagonia.

Hay una enredadera vespertina en tu rostro
que crece silenciosa por el amor llevada
hasta las herraduras crepitantes del cielo.

Me inclino sobre el fuego de tu cuerpo nocturno
y no solo tus senos amo sino el otoño
que esparce por la niebla su sangre ultramarina.

Pablo Neruda

Translation

The vague fog flows from the sea towards the street
like the stream-breath of cattle buried in the cold,
and long sheet of rain gather, covering the month
that our lives had been promised would be heavenly.

Premature autumn, whistling honeycomb of leaves
when your standards palpitate over our towns
lose women sing goodbye to the rivers,
horses whinny towards Patagonia.

On your face is an evening vine,
growing silently, lifted by love
up towards the crackling horseshoe of the sky.

I lean toward the fire of your nocturnal body, and I love
not only your breasts but autumn, too. as it spreads
its ultramarine blood through the fog.

Pablo Neruda

Today is my birthday and while I do appreciate all the birthday cupcakes, birthday ecards, and birthday quotes on Facebook, I can’t help but to share this post on my blog.

Let me start by saying that I do not believe in birthdays. Since I was a young kid I found that something was not right about the concept of a birthday, I remember always thinking that I already had a birthday and that, that day did not exist anymore.

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