“”this dream never ends” you said
“this feeling never goes
The time will never come to slip away”
“this wave never breaks” you said
“this sun never sets again
These flowers will never fade”
“this world never stops” you said
“this wonder never leaves
The time will never come to say goodbye”
“this tide never turns” you said
“this night never falls again
These flowers will never die”
These flowers will never die
“this dream always ends” I said
“this feeling always goes
The time always comes to slip away”
“this wave always breaks” I said
“this sun always sets again
And these flowers will always fade”
“this world always stops” I said
“this wonder always leaves
The time always comes to say goodbye”
“this tide always turns” I said
“this night always falls again
And these flowers will always die”
These flowers will always die
Between you and me
It’s hard to ever really know
Who to trust
How to think
What to believe
Between me and you
It’s hard to ever really know
Who to choose
How to feel
What to do
You give me flowers of love
I let fall flowers of blood”
What does it have to do with that fact that I broke it or not? It has. Something tells me strongly that it has.
Persistent, but in the background. I understand too well – better and better as the
long confrontation goes forward with bandaged gloves – that now will be taken the decision, that from now all will be triggered. And the devilish thing is that no matter how I toss and turn I still remain trapped. Wether the path of truth or the fog of slipping in futility, I am still lost, I will still have to admit it. Just that I am more tempted by and it seams more mercyful on the path of oblivion, the path of confusion, where all are equal, and nonsensical and lack importance.
Lost? Ah! No. Look as from the depths of Panteleimon and Cluceresa – the
slum and the village – suddenly dawns another thought, a third solution.
Ah! no, not the humility of giving in comes from the devil. Around me there’s not fog, in me no delirium: I am in full reality, what I see is true. Panteleimon and Clucereasa whisper to me: – just like great scholl colleagues that whisper the answer precisely: why get caught by phantasmagoria? Come take your senses. Yes, she is. Yes, all is true. To be calm and cynical and skilful. Repeat after me : skilful. Yes, it exists, there is an unthinkable third solution. Your duty this very moment is to be in a vulgar way calm , skilful, careless. Be a peasant, you little jew. Be as coming out of the slum. Old Sickness, who was robbed by the maid; Old Feud that was to be deceived by the neighbor; Old John that is not mislead by his wife; Uncle Pandele that tangles the whole world. I am not on the Venusberg and this is not the Valpurgia night. I am in a Security Investigation office, on the Plevnei road (needless, putting me dark glasses, you drove me round and round in the barracks yard of Malmaison), and this is T., who passed on their side … Why? How is that? No way! Why, I don’t know and do not care. And as for the impossibility, well look, it’s possible. Let me not be scholastic, oil freezes, whatever Aristotle says.
The glass? Of course I did it. Of course I broke it. (An awkward gesture and how
ashamed I felt. Ah, shards bring luck only in German.) But my only duty now is to be calm, smart and stubborn. Tough. Headstrong. Crabby. Laconic. Miffed.
The third solution: Not to recognize that I broke it, nor to let myself caught in dizziness.
Nor the stupidity of fear, neither the spell of dizziness. But something else: the lie. The peaceful and skilful lie.
This remains for me, that’s the third way; to be clever peasant and
cunning gossiper. Calm and Steadfast. At their height. Hers and theirs. Not above. I don’t remember, point and end of story. And I do not know. And I am quiet. And speechless. I do not admit. I do not give up. I don’t know, sir. I do not remember anything. Like a stupid goat. Neither in bed, nor under the bed. Neither the carriage nor in the cart. Like the beans on Easter day. Like old Lache at the fair: does not negociate any dime; like old Simache in court: he does not allow others to block him. Like old Gruia at the bargain: no , no and again no.
– to be continued
translation: memyselfandela, 2012
Another cause for me to fight.
Another fuse uncovered,
Now, for me to light.
To all that I’ve sworn to protect.
I carry out my orders,
Without a regret.
Embedded deep under my skin.
A permanent reminder,
Of how it began.
When I am commanded to strike.
You need to know,
That you’re living the fight of your life.
You will be shown,
How I’ve become…
Determination that is incorruptible.
From the other side.
A terror to behold.
Annihilation will be unavoidable.
Every broken enemy will know,
That their opponent had to be invincible.
Take a last look around while you’re alive,
I’m an indestructible master of war.”
humans were created with
two ears and only one mouth
so that they listen more than they speak
you don’t know it
but if you are silent long enough
you will start to listen
listen – silent
leading to the same truth.
Christmas is a holiday of great spiritual meaning for me as a soul, it’s a time of reflection, memory, tear, prayer and joy. It is also a time to listen again to the same music of the soul that I have always loved. And when I say music of the soul, I am speaking about genuine Christian Orthodox music/ Eastern Orthodox chant/Byzantine music and about Romanian carols. Listening to this fantastic music provides me an extraordinary peace and joy. I find myself in the middle of my spiritual journey and experience and I am greatful for every moment of it for I know that the meaning and purpose of this life is far higher than just live in the material world and enjoy worldly pleasures.
I had the unique chance to visit authentic monasteries that spread their spiritual light. In Romania, Serbia and Macedonia there are many such sanctuaries of soul and heart. Annonimous monks and nuns spread their light and love by prayer, unconditional help, dedication and by their unique music. One must stand in a church and listen to the echoes of a choir of pure voices to understand what I mean. Music is pleasure for the outer world, but for them music is prayer, an energy of the highest vibration that allows you to touch the peace and joy of Heaven for a brief time. It is the clarity of sound, the pure music expressed by human voices, the unity of a choir that creats those moments of spiritual revelation for those open to receive them. But in order to hear all this one should forget for a moment the echoes of the stressful life from the outside.
I will share with you three fantastic examples of music of the soul: Divna Ljbojevic/ Serbia, the Madrigal Choir/ Romania and Mizar & Harmosini Choir/ Macedonia.
“Blessed Virgin, rejoice/ Cuvine-se cu adevarat sa te fericim”
Divna Lubojevic is an outstanding Serbian Orthodox singer. After her voice was discovered by a very talented nun in the Monastery Vavedenje, Divna was initiated in the art of religious music. At 17 she was worldwide recognized after performing as the youngest conductor in the history in front of the oldest Serbian choir in the Saint Sava Cathedral in Belgrade. After years of study and cultural exchange with many musicians, Divna has created her own choir, called Melodi.
“You we praise, You we bless, to you we thank, Lord, and we pray to You, our Lord”.
The Madrigal Choir is one of the most famous Romanian proffesional choirs, belonging to the Music University in Bucharest. It’s name comes from a type of song called madrigal, a secular vocal music composition, usually a partsong, of the Renaissance and early Baroque eras and traditionally polyphonic. Under the lead of the famous Marin Constantin has become a worldwide symbol for Romania. Their music is a brilliant fusion of Romanian musical traditions and culture, merged to create a most pure rafined cultivated form of sound.
The Song of Christ’s Birth : “The Virgin today gives birth to the One above being, and the Earth brings the cave to the One Not Near. Because for us was born as young Child, God before eternity.”
Mizar (Macedonian: Мизар) is a Macedonian rock band from Skopje. They achieved a status of a cult band, especially in Macedonia and across the former Yugoslavia. Mizar was formed in 1983 in the then Socialist Republic of Macedonia, a constituent republic of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Because of the band’s avant-garde sound and image, its Orthodox Christian leanings and support for Macedonian self-determination, they were viewed with certain degree of suspicion by the former communist regime. Mizar’s musical style is post-punk, darkwave and gothic rock. Beside influences such as Joy Division for instance, Mizar also uses elements of Traditional Macedonian folklore and Byzantine music. Another main part of their music is Goran’s (both Tanevski and Trajkoski) vocals which are based on Eastern Orthodox church chants. Most of their songs are in Macedonian. The last album’s vocals are performed by a male choir, Harmosini, which sings in traditional byzantine style.
Mizar – Zdiv / Breath
Take a moment to listen to this vibration regardless of gender, colour or religion.
May it elevate you. And if it’s even for 1 minute, the message has reached your soul.