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You are not allowed to view links. Register or Logindestination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery.
destination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery.
You are not allowed to view links. Register or LoginYou are not allowed to view links. Register or Logindestination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery. Wow dear Mr. Fro_t!!destination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery. THAT particular quotes of Your just openned full Phandora Box , isn’t ? ha-ha - to more and more interfiere with TS religious posts and all the deep meaning we are (succesefully?) digging behind the Mega-Global Matrix of your Hoax.Shall we beginns? - from Present to Past and and Back to nowa-days.So,May I highlight couple of immediate thoughts, that crossed my mind, as I read “: beginning----> end : end----> beginning”…4 Quartets of TS Eliot, Emerald Tablet, Hermes Trismegistus, Dionysius the Areopagite, hermetism and indian vedas traditionBesides the fact, that modern literature and ancient wisdom its one of my faaavorite topick-)) – THAT particular Front’s line is DIRECTLY applying to many of our researches and study durind loong/looud pre-bam phase.May I just go straight from the sources and then post lil bit of digging available from Wiki and els..HERE we go East Coker from Four QuartetsIn my beginning is my end. In successionHouses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their placeIs an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earthWhich is already flesh, fur and faeces,Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.Houses live and die: there is a time for buildingAnd a time for living and for generationAnd a time for the wind to break the loosened paneAnd to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trotsAnd to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto.[In my beginning is my end. Now the light fallsAcross the open field, leaving the deep laneShuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,And the deep lane insists on the directionInto the village, in the electric heatHypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry lightIs absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.Wait for the early owl.In that open fieldIf you do not come too close, if you do not come too close, On a Summer midnight, you can hear the musicOf the weak pipe and the little drumAnd see them dancing around the bonfireThe association of man and womanIn daunsinge, signifying matrimonie-- A dignified and commodious sacrament.Two and two, necessarye coniunction,Holding eche other by the hand or the armWhiche betokeneth concorde. Round and round the fireLeaping through the flames, or joined in circles,Rustically solemn or in rustic laughterLifting heavy feet in clumsy shoes,Earth feet, loam feet, lifted in country mirthMirth of those long since under earthNourishing the corn. Keeping time,Keeping the rhythm in their dancingAs in their living in the living seasonsThe time of the seasons and the constellationsThe time of milking and the time of harvestThe time of the coupling of man and womanAnd that of beasts. Feet rising and falling.Eating and drinking. Dung and death.Dawn points, and another dayPrepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn windWrinkles and slides. I am hereOr there, or elsewhere. In my beginning. T. S. Eliot Burnt Norton from Four QuartetsTime present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time future,And time future contained in time past.If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.What might have been is an abstractionRemaining a perpetual possibilityOnly in a world of speculation.What might have been and what has beenPoint to one end, which is always present.Footfalls echo in the memoryDown the passage which we did not takeTowards the door we never openedInto the rose-garden. My words echoThus, in your mind.But to what purposeDisturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves I do not know.Other echoes Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow? Quick, said the bird, find them, find them, Round the corner. Through the first gate,Into our first world, shall we followThe deception of the thrush? Into our first world.There they were, dignified, invisible,Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,And the bird called, in response toThe unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the rosesHad the look of flowers that are looked at.There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,Along the empty alley, into the box circle,To look down into the drained pool.Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,The surface glittered out of heart of light,And they were behind us, reflected in the popool.Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.Go, go, go, said the bird: human kindCannot bear very much reality.Time past and time futureWhat might have been and what has beenPoint to one end, which is always present. T. S. Eliot
You are not allowed to view links. Register or Logindestination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery. Wow dear Mr. Fro_t!!THAT particular quotes of Your just openned full Phandora Box , isn’t ? ha-ha - to more and more interfiere with TS religious posts and all the deep meaning we are (succesefully?) digging behind the Mega-Global Matrix of your Hoax.Shall we beginns? - from Present to Past and and Back to nowa-days.
Murder in the Cathedral is directly linking to Burnt Norton and also amizingly fit with Michael"s feat. )) :bowdown:Its a verse drama by T. S. Eliot that portrays the assassination of Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170, first performed in 1935. Eliot drew heavily on the writing of Edward Grim, a clerk who was an eyewitness to the event.
You are not allowed to view links. Register or LoginYou are not allowed to view links. Register or Logindestination: beginning----> end destination: end----> beginning Sometimes one must venture into the opposite direction in order to come full circle and acquire NEW realizations from the SAME window-seat scenery. Wow dear Mr. Fro_t!!THAT particular quotes of Your just openned full Phandora Box , isn’t ? ha-ha - to more and more interfiere with TS religious posts and all the deep meaning we are (succesefully?) digging behind the Mega-Global Matrix of your Hoax.Shall we beginns? - from Present to Past and and Back to nowa-days.You are not allowed to view links. Register or LoginMurder in the Cathedral is directly linking to Burnt Norton and also amizingly fit with Michael"s feat. )) :bowdown:Its a verse drama by T. S. Eliot that portrays the assassination of Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170, first performed in 1935. Eliot drew heavily on the writing of Edward Grim, a clerk who was an eyewitness to the event.those are great quotes, of course, I love Eliot too, but with the same success you may start quoting here the whole world literature and entire Wikipedia. for this tale is as old as time. no need to dig sooo deep, the meaning of Front's words is on the surface... all is simple. as zen ; )
Wow, Skyways, I can see poetry/literature is your specialty/passion! Front just has that knack of inspiring us!Blessings!