Monday, April 9

This Week's Poem: Again Auden

My favourite Michael, the archangel, by Pirez D'Evora, Alvaro, 1411

I love Auden and I think that I should be able to share this love with you, my viewers. Enjoy this one.


Each lover has a theory of his own
About the difference between the ache
Of being with his love, and being alone:

Why what, when dreaming, is dear flesh and bone
That really stirs the sense, when awake,
Appears a simulacrum of his own.

Narcissus disbelieved in the unknown;
He cannot join his image in the lake
So long as he assumes he is alone.

The child, the waterfall, the fire, the stone,
Are always up to mischief, though, and take
The universe for granted as their own.

The elderly, like Proust, are always prone
To think of love as a subjective fake;
The more they love, the more they feel alone.

Whatever view we hold, it must be shown
Why every lover has a wish to make
Some other kind of otherness of his own:
Perhaps, in fact, we never are alone.

Posted by Katayoun


serendip said...

Beautiful poem. Here is a different kind of love:

True love is a selfless love. Giving and serving, reaching out to others in a caring way. It naturally seeks the betterment of the other, and does not dwell on its own feelings and whims.

It is a love that is so foreign today. The existence of love has been squelched by the cheap theory, "if it feels good do it." We're wrapped up in our feelings and emotions, and are slaves to the whims of such. Anything that stands in the way is shoved aside with another adage, "each to his own."

Love wilts in such an environment.

The archenemy of love is selfishness. When selfishness prevails, love is quenched. Love that is not considerate of others is simply not love. Love whose self takes precedence is a cheap and short-lasting love.

True love is often found neglecting itself for the sake of others. It is the evidence of loving his neighbor as himself. Never will it gratify itself at the expense of someone else. It doesn't seek after its own glory or honor.

We were born with an instinctive selfishness. Only true love can uproot the negative effects of that character trait. It takes maturity to forsake ourselves for the betterment of another.

This love is not on a quest to inordinately obtain praise, honor or pleasure in itself. Rather it is giving to others the gratification of respect and honor.

p.s. Love has to be earned and mutual before you give of your love freely, especially to a guy...LOL And of course, if you don't love yourself, you can't really love anyone else either because you can't give what you don't have.

Bita said...

Dear Katayoun:
You have a great taste when it comes to selecting poetry.

Thank you

katayoun said...

My dear Friend Serendip,

Your comment is worth a great attention. I should say that I liked your take on the abstract concept of Love, and its many different applications in various situations. I should also say that you sound a bit like a modern-philosopher in the way you have analyzed love and its relation to the building of the human nature, and the complexity of the relations with which one must deal.
I am glad that you have shared your analytical view for this post. To be honest with you, the poem had been the centre of a series of long conversations with a friend, who happen to be a Sociologist-psychoanalyst! And we often revisit our memories of those days, and come up with some other good talks about the notion of "Love".
You have a zeal for life, from what I've seen, and that zeal is your key to success in what you are trying to achieve.
And I thank you for the link you have sent me, i will read that blog too.

serendip said...

kathy jan: wow, thanks. I'm flattered and honored. I'm no philosopher though...I was biology major in college...hahaha

Bita said...

Dear Seren,

you can major in whatever you like, but your perspectives on life wiil have a different outcome, at times of course.

Bita said...

the comment was from me, katayoun