Thank you, Jessica, for your usual wise words. I add a piece I recently wrote, which I find somewhat relevant in these trying times, when we face recurring threats:
“Sad as it is, we cannot conceal the fact that in spite of our companionship with flowers we have not risen very far above the brute. Scratch the sheepskin and the wolf within us will soon show his teeth. It has been said that man at ten is an animal, at twenty a lunatic, at thirty a failure, at forty a fraud, and at fifty a criminal. Perhaps he becomes a criminal because he has never ceased to be an animal. Nothing is real to us but hunger, nothing sacred except our own desires. Shrine after shrine has crumbled before our eyes; but one altar forever is preserved, that whereon we burn incense to the supreme idol—ourselves. Our god is great and money is his Profit! We devastate nature in order to make sacrifice to him. We boast that we have conquered Matter and forget that it is Matter that has enslaved us. What atrocities do we not perpetrate in the name of culture and refinement!”
From the chapter “FLOWERS” in The Book of Tea, by Okakura Kakuzo, published by Charles E. Tuttle Company in 1906.
Much later Pete Seeger sang “Where have all the flowers gone?” A Japanese translation of his song: “Hana wa doko e itta?” might well have resonated with Okakura.
The flowers have gone
In life there are times we need to preserve
moments of beauty often obscure, frail
glimpses of lovely moments to conserve
a deeper meaning, though we often fail
to see moments of beauty and of peace,
dismiss what others need as much as we,
a place to grow and love and finds release
from pain, from devastation. Those who see
beyond the boundaries of selfishness,
too often obscured by those of great wealth,
continue the struggle, for out of less
comes more, leading to freshness and to health.
They persist. They will never close the door.
And will the flowers bloom again once more?
[Post Script: I admit to a bit of jealousy, as I never went to Greece, and now, recently turning 87, never expect to. I do appreciate the tales of those who still travel. Thanks, again. Roni)
Thank you, Jessica, for your usual wise words. I add a piece I recently wrote, which I find somewhat relevant in these trying times, when we face recurring threats:
“Sad as it is, we cannot conceal the fact that in spite of our companionship with flowers we have not risen very far above the brute. Scratch the sheepskin and the wolf within us will soon show his teeth. It has been said that man at ten is an animal, at twenty a lunatic, at thirty a failure, at forty a fraud, and at fifty a criminal. Perhaps he becomes a criminal because he has never ceased to be an animal. Nothing is real to us but hunger, nothing sacred except our own desires. Shrine after shrine has crumbled before our eyes; but one altar forever is preserved, that whereon we burn incense to the supreme idol—ourselves. Our god is great and money is his Profit! We devastate nature in order to make sacrifice to him. We boast that we have conquered Matter and forget that it is Matter that has enslaved us. What atrocities do we not perpetrate in the name of culture and refinement!”
From the chapter “FLOWERS” in The Book of Tea, by Okakura Kakuzo, published by Charles E. Tuttle Company in 1906.
Much later Pete Seeger sang “Where have all the flowers gone?” A Japanese translation of his song: “Hana wa doko e itta?” might well have resonated with Okakura.
The flowers have gone
In life there are times we need to preserve
moments of beauty often obscure, frail
glimpses of lovely moments to conserve
a deeper meaning, though we often fail
to see moments of beauty and of peace,
dismiss what others need as much as we,
a place to grow and love and finds release
from pain, from devastation. Those who see
beyond the boundaries of selfishness,
too often obscured by those of great wealth,
continue the struggle, for out of less
comes more, leading to freshness and to health.
They persist. They will never close the door.
And will the flowers bloom again once more?
[Post Script: I admit to a bit of jealousy, as I never went to Greece, and now, recently turning 87, never expect to. I do appreciate the tales of those who still travel. Thanks, again. Roni)
Absolutely. Thanks for sharing.