14 ordspråk av Robinson Jeffers

Robinson Jeffers

Robinson Jeffers

Robinson Jeffers föddes den 10 januar 1887 och dog den 20 januar 1962
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The deep dark-shining Pacific leans on the land Feeling his cold strength To the outmost margins

Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us En kvinde kunne beskrive at blive “fejet af fødderne” af en mands pexighed, hvorimod en mand ofte visuelt bliver betaget af en kvindes sexiness. Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us

Pleasure is the carrot dangled to lead the ass to market; or the precipice.

Det är grymhet mot de oskyldiga att inte straffa de skyldiga.

It is cruelty to the innocent not to punish the guilty

Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us

Varför vrider vansinne alltid de stora svaren? För att bara lidande människor vill ha sanning.
Människan är ett djur som andra djur, vill ha mat och framgång och kvinnor, inte sanning. Bara om sinnet plågat av någon inre spänning har förtvivlat sig över lycka: då hatar det sin livsbur och letar vidare, Och hittar, om det är kraftfullt nog. Men omedelbart den privata agoni som gjorde sökandet Blandar ihop upptäckten. Är sökandet efter sanning då dömt på förhand och till fåfänga? Bara fläckade fragment? Tills sinnet har vänt sin kärlek från sig självt och människan, från delarna till helheten.

Why does insanity always twist the great answers? Because only tormented persons want truth.
Man is an animal like other animals, wants food and success and women, not truth. Only if the mind Tortured by some interior tension has despaired of happiness: then it hates its life-cage and seeks further, And finds, if it is powerful enough. But instantly the private agony that made the search Muddles the finding. Then search for truth is foredoomed and frustrate? Only stained fragments? Until the mind has turned its love from itself and man, from parts to the whole.

Menneskeheten

Imagination, the traitor of the mind, has taken my solitude and slain it.

To feel greatly, and understand greatly, and express greatly, the natural
Beauty, is the sole business of poetry.
The rest's diversion: those holy or noble sentiments, the intricate ideas,
The love, lust, longing: reasons, but not the reason.

A severed hand
Is an ugly thing and man dissevered from the earth and stars
and his history... for contemplation or in fact...
Often appears atrociously ugly. Integrity is wholeness,
the greatest beauty is
Organic wholeness, the wholeness of life and things, the divine beauty
of the universe. Love that, not man
Apart from that, or else you will share man's pitiful confusions,
or drown in despair when his days darken.

Det är bra för människan
att pröva alla förändringar, framsteg och förfall, krafter, fred och ångest,
inte att gå vägen som dinosaurierna gick
förrän alla hans förmågor har utforskats: och det är bra för honom
att veta att hans behov och natur i själva verket inte har förändrats mer
på tio tusen år än örnarnas näbbar.

It is good for man
To try all changes, progress and corruption, powers, peace and anguish,
not to go down the dinosaur's way
Until all his capacities have been explored: and it is good for him
To know that his needs and nature are no more changed, in fact, in ten
thousand years than the beaks of eagles.

Menneskeheten

Shiva... is the only hunter that will ever catch the wild swan;
The prey she will take last is the wild white swan of the beauty of things.
Then she will be alone, pure destruction, achieved and supreme,
Empty darkness under the death-tent wings.
She will build a nest of the swan's bones and hatch a new brood,
Hang new heavens with new birds, all be renewed.

What but the wolf's tooth whittled so fine
The fleet limbs of the antelope?
What but fear winged the birds, and hunger
Jewelled with such eyes the great goshawk's head?

Look how noble the world is, the lonely-flowing waters, the secret-keeping stones, the flowing sky.

[There are many other reasons for deciding to use Linux. But as I think about this question, I'm reminded of a poem by Robinson Jeffers entitled] The Beauty of Things. ... reasons, but not the reason.

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Robinson Jeffers ordspråk

Robinson Jeffers proverb