A Golden Day- Ella Weeler Wilcox

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The subtle beauty of this day
Hangs o’er me like a fairy spell,
And care and grief have flown away,
And every breeze sings, “all is well.”
I ask, “Holds earth or sin, or woe?”
My heart replies, “I do not know.”

Nay! all we know, or feel, my heart,
Today is joy undimmed, complete;
In tears or pain we have no part;
The act of breathing is so sweet,
We care no higher joy to name.
What reck we now of wealth or fame?

The past–what matters it to me?
The pain it gave has passed away.
The future-that I cannot see!
I care for nothing save today-
This is a respite from all care,
And trouble flies-I know not where.

Go on, oh noisy, restless life!
Pass by, oh, feet that seek for heights!
I have no part in aught of strife;
I do not want your vain delights.
The day wraps round me like a spell
And every breeze sings, “All is well.”

A Lesson In Vengeance- Sylvia Plath

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In the dour ages

Of drafty cells and draftier castles,

Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables,

Saint and king unfisted obstruction’s knuckles

By no miracle or majestic means,

But by such abuses

As smack of spite and the overscrupulous

Twisting of thumbscrews: one soul tied in sinews,

One white horse drowned, and all the unconquered pinnacles

Of God’s city and Babylon’s

Must wait, while here Suso’s

Hand hones his tack and needles,

Scouraging to sores his own red sluices

For the relish of heaven, relentless, dousing with prickles

Of horsehair and lice his horny loins;

While there irate Cyrus

Squanders a summer and the brawn of his heroes

To rebuke the horse-swallowing River Gyndes:

He split it into three hundred and sixty trickles

A girl could wade without wetting her shins.

Still, latter-day sages,

Smiling at this behavior, subjugating their enemies

Neatly, nicely, by disbelief or bridges,

Never grip, as the grandsires did, that devil who chuckles

From grain of the marrow and the river-bed grains

If Sharks were Men- Bertold Brecht

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“If sharks were men,” Mr. Keuner was asked by his landlady’s little girl, “would they be nicer to the little fishes?”

“Certainly,” he said. “If sharks were men, they would build enormous boxes in the ocean for the little fish, with all kinds of food inside, both vegetable and animal. They would take care that the boxes always had fresh water, and in general they would make all kinds of sanitary arrangements. If, for example, a little fish were to injure a fin, it would immediately be bandaged, so that it would not die and be lost to the sharks before its time. So that the little fish would not become melancholy, there would be big water festivals from time to time; because cheerful fish taste better than melancholy ones.

“There would, of course, also be schools in the big boxes. In these schools the little fish would learn how to swim into the sharks’ jaws. They would need to know geography, for example, so that they could find the big sharks, who lie idly around somewhere. The principal subject would, of course, be the moral education of the little fish. They would be taught that it would be the best and most beautiful thing in the world if a little fish sacrificed itself cheerfully and that they all had to believe the sharks, especially when the latter said they were providing for a beautiful future. The little fish would be taught that this future is assured only if they learned obedience. The little fish had to beware of all base, materialist, egotistical and Marxist inclinations, and if one of their number betrayed such inclinations they had to report it to the sharks immediately.

“If sharks were men, they would, of course, also wage wars against one another, in order to conquer other fish boxes and other little fish. The wars would be waged by their own little fish. They would teach their little fish that there was an enormous difference between themselves and the little fish belonging to the other sharks. Little fish, they would announce, are well known to be mute, but they are silent in quite different languages and hence find it impossible to understand one another. Each little fish that, in a war, killed a couple of other little fish, enemy ones, silent in their own language, would have a little order made of seaweed pinned to it and be awarded the title of hero.

“If sharks were men, there would, of course, also be art. There would be beautiful pictures, in which the sharks’ teeth would be portrayed in magnificent colors and their jaws as pure pleasure gardens, in which one could romp about splendidly. The theaters at the bottom of the sea would show heroic little fish swimming enthusiastically into the jaws of sharks, and the music would be so beautiful that to the accompaniment of its sounds, the orchestra leading the way, the little fish would stream dreamily into the sharks’ jaws, lulled by the most agreeable thoughts.

“There would also be a religion, if sharks were men. It would preach that little fish only really begin to live properly in the sharks’ stomachs.

“Furthermore, if sharks were men there would be an end to all little fish being equal, as is the case now. Some would be given important offices and be placed above the others. Those who were a little bigger would even be allowed to eat up the smaller ones. That would be altogether agreeable for the sharks, since they themselves would more often get bigger bites to eat. And the bigger little fish, occupying their posts, would ensure order among the little fish, become teachers, officers, engineers in box construction, etc.
In short, if sharks were men, they would for the first time bring culture to the ocean.”

Kad bi ajkule bile ljudi- Bertold Breht

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”Kad bi ajkule bile ljudi”, upitala je mala gazdaričina kćer gospodina Kejnera, “da li bi bile bolje prema malim ribama?” “Naravno”, reče on. “Kad bi ajkule bile ljudi, imale bi velike kutije u moru u kojima bi živjele male ribe. U ovim habitatima bi držale sve vrste hrane – i biljke i životinje. Starale bi se da kutije uvijek imaju svježu vodu, i uopšte bi pazile na sve sanitarne mjere. Ako bi, na primjer, neka ribica povrijedila svoja peraja, odmah bi bila zbrinuta, kako ajkule ne bi bile lišene nje zbog prerane smrti.

Da male ribe ne bi bile utučene, bili bi održavani veliki podvodni festivali, jer srećne ribe imaju bolji ukus od nego tužne. U školama bi ribice učile kako da uplivaju u čeljusti ajkule. Učile bi geografiju, na primjer, tako da kada velike ajkule odlutaju negdje, umiju da ih pronađu.

Najvažnije bi bilo, naravno, moralno obrazovanje ribica. Učile bi da je Najveća i Najljepša stvar za ribicu da se žrtvuje radosno i da mora vjerovati u ajkule, posebno kada joj obećavaju svijetlu budućnost. Malim ribama bi se govorilo da se do ovakve budućnosti može stići samo ako nauče da budu poslušne. I nadasve, morale bi da se čuvaju svih osnovnih, materijalističkih, egoističkih i marksističkih frakcija, i da odmah prijave ajkulama ako neke od njih počnu da manifestuju takve tendencije. Kad bi ajkule bile ljudi, naravno, vodile bi ratove međusobno radi osvajanja stranih kutija sa ribicama i stranih ribica. Pustile bi svoje ribice da ratuju za njih. Učile bi strane ribice da postoje ogromne razlike između njih i ribica drugih ajkula. Male ribe, tvrdile bi, su glupe, ali ćute na različitim jezicima i stoga se ne mogu razumjeti međusobno. Svaka ribica koja ubije nekoliko neprijateljskih ribica u borbi – malih stranih riba, glupih na različitim jezicima – dobile bi malu medalju od morske trave koju bi zakačile na grudi i bile nagrađene titulom “heroj”.

Kad bi ajkule bile ljudi, naravno, imale bi umjetnost. Bilo bi izložbi predivnih slika čeljusti ajkula u slavnim bojama. Pozorišta na morskom dnu bi prikazivala ribice heroje kako ponosno uplivavaju u čeljusti akjule uz melodičnu muziku koja draži njihove uši i velike misli koje uspavljuju njihova čula.

Čak bi postojala i religija kad bi ajkule bile ljudi. Propovijedali bi da ribice počinju da žive tek kada dospiju u stomake ajkula. Štaviše, ako ajkule ikada postanu ljudi, ne bi sve ribice bile ravnopravne kao što su sad. Nekim bi bili dati položaji, bile bi postavljene iznad drugih. Onim značajnijim bi bilo dopušteno da proždiru manje. Ovo bi sigrno bilo na zadovoljstvo ajkula, koje bi za sebe onda imale veće primjerke. Značajnije ribice bi bile odgovorne za čuvanje reda među ostalim: postale bi profesori, oficiri, graditelji kutija za ribice, itd. Ukratko, more bi postalo civilizovano tek kada bi ajkule bile ljudi.”

Pusti prošlost da prođe

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Originally posted on b(L)ogdan:

Neke stvari, ljudi i postupci obeleže nas kroz život onako… Krvnički. Zarežu po najmekšem delu sigurnosti, razbiju macolom najjaču armaturu naše samouverenosti, zapale sve naše do tada spokojne sumnje. Kad sa tim završe, kažu da nisu namerno, obrnu dupe i odu. A mi, tako oćopavljeni, razbijeni i opečeni krenemo u budućnost da vučemo repove prošlosti, koji nam vrlo često rastu brže nego što se mi oporavljamo, pa dočekamo momenat kada sami sebe saplićemo o njih.

Počnemo ranjeni da dočekujemo nevine na nož, uplašeni da uterujemo strah u kosti hrabrima, sve vreme bolujući od teške bolesti koja se zove samosažaljenje. Ne vidimo vrata za izlaz iz mraka, napipavamo ih i tumaramo obično se tada hvatajući za pogrešne izbore. Pričamo o slomljnom srcu u tom trenutku ne znajući da ono zarasta mnogo brže nego povređeni ego. To je ta optička varka kada slepi od bola pomešamo sopstveno srce sa egom, pa se…

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Tako je govorio Zuko Džumhur – autor: Ozren Kebo

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Originally posted on Horizonti humanosti. Uređuje - MARJAN HAJNAL:

Ozren Kebo

Tako je govorio Zuko Džumhur

http://www.6yka.com/novost/35861/ozren-kebo-tako-je-govorio-zuko-dzumhur

Budi pametan da ne bi bio loš. Pametan čovjek povazdan bišće po sebi, odstranjuje svoje lošosti, i u jednom trenutku shvati da nikada nije dosta tog biskanja, da je loš karakter naš duševni korov, ti ga pljeviš a on se otima, raste li raste. Ne date se ni ti ni on u toj pljevidbi bez kraja. Nikada ne možeš odstraniti svoje mane, ali nikada ne smiješ ni prestati da ih tamaniš. A ako si uporan, ako se ne predaješ, onda ti se poslije decenija savjesnog rada može desiti i to da u ogledalu ugledaš nekog nasmijanog i smirenog sebe.
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Autor: Ozren Kebo
 

U zaostavštini jednog hercegovačkog pjesnika i novinara pronađen je, sasvim slučajno, odlomak iz neko davnog intervjua sa slikarem i putopiscem Zukom Džumhurom. Po određenim pokazateljima može se zaključiti da je razgovor vođen krajem sedamdesetih godina prošlog vijeka…

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