Glückliche Sonnenwende

 

Jetzt wendet sich die liebe Sonne,

Gipfel unser aller Wonne.

Alles Dunkel geht zur Ende

bei der schönen Sonnenwende.

Ob es scheinet, ob es regnet

Alle Mensch und Pflanze segnet.

 

Hirnweh (The Aging Brain)

 

Alles Neue  ekelt mich an.

-- Wm. v. Humboldt, an Goethe, 1818

 

Du Einsamkeit    aus Alter und Verlust ...

Zuviel gelitten,   und zuviel gewußt

-- Gottfried Benn, “Abschied”

 

Mit altem Mann  geht’s wunderlich :

Hat viel gelernt, muß viel verlernen.

Ihm ist, als wollt sein eigen Ich

Sich leis aus ihm entfernen.

-- Rudolf Schröder, “Vom alten Mann”

 

Klein ist, mein Kind, dein erster Schritt;

Klein wird  dein letzter sein.

Den ersten  gehn Vater und Mutter mit;

Den letzten   gehst du  allein.

-- Albrecht Goes, “Die Schritte”

 

[For a lengthy lament upon the constraints of cognitive insufficiency,
try this:

  https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2013/03/de-stultitia-updated.html   ]

Völkerlieder … komm’ mal wieder

 

Des voix depuis l’Allemagne profonde.

Und ich, vielenorts daheim,

send echoes  of each kind.

 

 

Die Gedanken sind frei

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNTVachAmNc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tM9AvEWgwfI&t=144s

 

Frei sind die Gedanken;

zwar so, wie Sie meinen.

Aber Ach --  die Gefühle!

Man erliegt wohl den seinen.

 

Die Gedanken sind frei;

ich denk’ an dich immer.

Mein Herz bricht entzwei

hör’ ich deine Stimme.

 

Sei es Hirn, sei es Herz,

sei es Ernst, sei es Scherz --

Die Wahrheit liegt da:

au coeur   ses raisons,

que Raison ne connaît pas.

 

*

 

Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9AGBOFQYnE

 

Wenn du ein Vöglein wärest

flög ich zu dir,  my dearest --

could   I    but     fly !

Möcht’ ich so gerne,

bleibst doch in Ferne --

so far, so high ….

 

Yet, here  within  my  breast

hast  thou, O bird,  thy nest --

sanft, warm, und rein.

Far,  and yet  near   to   me,

here  may I cherish thee --

so   bist   du   mein.

 

*

 

Es zogen einst fünf wilde Schwäne

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MH3MbuCL5xY

Thy very voice   evokes   wild swans,

winging their way to westward.

 

At the final crescendo, it soars,

skywards,

till   ‘tis out  of sight …

 

Risen indeed

 

An Egyptian-American Muslim colleague of mine  received an e-mail from his Egyptian-American Coptic friend, addressed to a roster of friends and acquaintances both Christian and Muslim.   The message read, in its entirety:

Have a blessed Easter.

Risen indeed.

Now, my colleague occasionally has difficulties with nuances of English, even after a couple of decades of residence in the U.S.   But he did understand that this terse and telegraphic phrase asserted the Resurrection of Jesus.

Though Muslim to the core, he is quite accepting of the other Abrahamic faiths (indeed, has more than once attended services with Christian friends), and he was happy to receive this blessing from a friend.   He then asked me, in confidence (since he knows that I am candid about such things), whether all Christian denominations believed in the Resurrection.

            “Um … yes,” I replied.   (The “Um” part was to stall for time while the taken-aback-sensation passed.  In a similar fashion, some years ago, a young woman colleague, university-educated and soon to be well traveled, asked me out of the blue, “Do Jews believe that Jesus is the Messiah?”   -- “Um … no,” was my reply.)

His own reply was a surprise.  “Then we believe the same thing!” he exclaimed, beaming.   For the Koran (he went on) proclaimed that God “lifted” Jesus up to Paradise (rafa`a).   I expressed satisfaction at this congruence, and privately desired that the message might spread to outfits like ISIL and Boko Haram, who might, please, accordingly  knock it off.

He went on to inform me that (according to Muslims) Jesus of Nazareth (upon whom be peace) had not actually been crucified.   I had heard this motif before in connection with the Ahmadiyya (a pure simulacrum had been crucified in his place); but my colleague added a neat twist, reminiscent of the trope wherein the executioner hoists with his own petard:   God had caused the very soldier leading Jesus to Golgotha  to suddenly take on the mild carpenter’s appearance.  

“That’s not in the Koran,” I frowned.  -- “No,” he conceded.

“Hadith?”  (There are tens of thousands of these, some sounder than others, you never known what might be found in some of the doubtful ones.)  --  He considered.  “In the culture,” he finally said.

Which is to say:  Folklore, like “December 25”.   (None but the most ignorant Christian will take offense if you state that we really have no idea what day Jesus was born on.)

Well -- He is born, and He is risen.  Peace on Earth, good will to men.

A vision common to Christianity and Islam

(Nur mit ein bißchen anderen Worten)

~

[Philological footnote]  The Arabic, rafa`, is literally ‘raised’.   Thus, it is not quite equivalent to resurrexit, in what might elsewhere be a small  but is here a crucial difference:  rafa` is comptabile with Jesus having been raised to Paradise while still alive, like Elijah.  There is nothing in the Koran saying that he was risen from the dead.

~

With our linguistic caps on, let us look more closely at the wording of that greeting.   To a Muslim with an uncertain grasp of English, it might seem no more than you might find on a Hallmark card.   It is thus the perfect two-tier or encapsulated expression:   no more than a smooth rock, or black box, to the uninitiated;  but a treasure-chest  which springs open at the click, to initiates.

The standard American greetings that those of my generation grew up with  were “Happy Easter” and “Merry Christmas”.   But as those holdays became increasingly commercialized, some observent Christians have come increasingly to say “Blessed Easter” or “Easter Blessings”, to make it plain that they are actually referring to the holy-day and not simply a time to hunt eggs or find discounts at the Mall (or as a counterpunch to the latterday degradation of even “Merry Christmas” to “Season’s Greetings”).  You would not say it to someone you knew to be an atheist;  though you might say it to a kindly stranger.

 

“Risen indeed”, by contrast, is not used  even by the generality of Christians, let alone to those of other faiths or none.  It specifically echoes the antiphonal style of worship, priest and congregation:      

    

   “The Lord be with you” 

   Rx: “And also with you.”   

   “Christ is risen.” 

   Rx: “He is risen indeed.”    

 

And by leaving off the first two words of the latter formula, pronoun and auxiliary verb, the writer made it clear that he was echoing the ritual greeting, which you may hear in Orthodox, Catholic and Episcopal services, but not among churches whose liturgy or worship-style is not antiphonal.

Among the Eastern Orthodox, this formula is known as the Paschal troparion:   Χριστὸς ἀνέστη.

The English Wikipedia has a particlarly nice article on this topic, as does the Russian version:

       http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paschal_greeting

Christus resurrexit! Resurrexit vere!

[Update]  The whole offering-and-response style recalls, actually, Arabic.  There are dozens or scores, if not hundreds, of formulaic greetings and blessings, each with a prescribed response.   This scarcely exists in English, apart from “Thank you” -- “You’re welcome”.  (Arabic:  shukran. -- `afwan.)

Thus:  To al-salaam `aleykum, you reply Wa-`alaykum al-salaam.  (“Hello.” -- “Hello back.”)

To SabaaH al-xayr (“Good morning”), SabaaH al-nuur (literally “Morning of light”;  with many further variants.)

To na`iiman! (a salutation to someone who has evidently just bathed, or shaved, or had a haircut):  Allah yin`im `ayleek.

And so on.

There is thus, both a theological aspect to the responsory mode of worship, and a cultural/aesthetic one:  both typical of the Mideast.

[Further update]  Apart from the context of worship, such ritualized exchanges are typical of traditional societies, and indeed help constitute their social cement.   Contemporary American is sadly lacking in these:  a lonely survival is “Thank you” -- “You’re welcome” -- and even this may go the way of the dodo  as the custom of so much as thanking  fades, along with that relic of our mother’s day, the Thank-You Note.

(As, https://www.washingtonpost.com/advice/2025/08/26/carolyn-hax-cash-gifts-thank-you-notes/

Nieces prefer getting cash gifts and not sending thank-you notes.   Sending cash feels like paying bills  to this aunt, and nieces’ lack of response to gifts  makes it even worse.)

 

But the forefathers of our ancestors in the northern isles, were replete with these.   A fossil of one survives in the mysterious word wassail, now known to most speakers only in some old Christmas carols.  In origin, it is a salutation; grammatically, an imperative.  And it came with its own antiphon:

 

Host:  Wassail!  [cognate with Old Norse ves heill ‘be hale’, as in “hale and hearty” and “to your health”]

Guest:  Drink-hail!

 

Ah, the days, those were the days;  those were the days  indeed.

 

Partly queazy, with a chance of (… what?)

 

There is something

not  quite  right

about that light.

 

Some thing  a bit

bent-around-the-edges --

crinkled, if you will --

 

a kind of

Unreliable Brightness,

harboring something

up deep

in its shimmering, silken sleeves …

 

Hearken to the horizon:

a thunder-rumble?

No, none.     Not  yet.

 

And yet,

still, there is Some Thing

nót   quíte   ríght …

about that light.

 

Locked Room Mystery (redivivus ter)

 

The caterpillar   with shrivelled skin

in a tent of silk    was laid therein.

This crumpled thing,   shrunk like a shroud,

was laid in silk   white as a cloud.

The sons of men   stood round about

warding the worm   should not get out.

Three days they stood   with solemn face,

never eyes wavering   from that place.

Then did they open   that mute cocoon,

and stood amazed:   the worm was gone !

Then some believed   and some did doubt

how that the worm   could have got out.

Yet to the sky   in spiral rings

the new flew forth   on crystal wings.

~

[ For a tale of Paschal miracle:
Murphy Makes a Mitzvah ]

Lenten reflections

 Here:

https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/search/label/Lent

TR monostichs

 

Upon the sudden assassination of President McKinley, Theodore Roosevelt is rushed to Washington, at sunset:

 

An old farmer, hearing the onrush of the train,

climbed off his harrow  and stood to attention,

his red shirt  indandescent

in the horizontal light. 

Children ran to cluster around him.

Their spindly shadow, leaping east,

briefly stroked the wheels of Roosevelt’s car.

For the next half hour,

Roosevelt sat with his elbow on the window ledge,

staring through his own reflection

at the speeding darkness.

-- Edmund Morris, Theodore Rex (2001), p. 36 -7

 

hot   sun

beat   down

on bald heads

and bright medals

-- Edmund Morris, Theodore Rex (2001), p. 110

 

light          sliced

through thinning  trees

-- Edmund Morris, Theodore Rex (2001), p. 120

 

Light vertical, horizontal, and aslant.