Sunday, October 3, 2010

What it is


What it is
It is madness
says reason
It is what it is
says love
It is unhappiness
says caution
It is nothing but pain
says fear
It has no future
says insight
It is what it is
says love
It is ridiculous
says pride
It is foolish
says caution
It is impossible
says experience
It is what it is
says love.
\
Erich Fried

12 comments:

  1. Dear Magdalena thank you sooooo much for the poem, really loved it!!!!!!!!
    Makes me contemplate and reconsider a lot of things!

    Thanks my Dear!!!

    Ani

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  2. "It is what it is
    says love."
    and nothing more :)

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  3. I would rather say

    It is what it is
    says love
    Just hold it tight
    Never think it might...!

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  4. Thank you for the post! It made me dive into the depth of thought.

    I would like to share with the followers of this wonderful page this poem:




    Was war das?

    Ohne dich sein
    ganz ohne dich

    und langsam
    zu vergessen beginnen
    wie es mit dir war
    ganz mit dir

    und dann halb
    halb mit und halb ohne

    und ganz zuletzt
    ganz ohne

    Erich Fried

    What was this?

    Being without you
    totally without you

    and slowly
    starting to forget
    how it was to be with you
    totally with you

    and then half
    half with and half without

    and finally
    totally without

    Translation by Günter Ehweiner (1, 2)

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  5. Tatevik Thanks a lot for the poem!

    Awakens a huge emotion and feeling rephrased in very simple game of words...

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  6. I loved this.... earlier talking that even Fried couldn't give a reason to love...
    WHAT i NEEDED!

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  7. Thanks John for the comment!!!!!!!!!!

    It is what it is
    That all of us NEEDED!!!!!!!!!!

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  8. Really as you said, just a game of simplest words, but so emotional.want to say it, share it!

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  9. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

    Escribir, por ejemplo: 'La noche está estrellada,
    y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.'

    El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

    Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
    Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

    En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
    La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

    Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
    Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

    Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
    Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

    Oir la noche inmensa, más inmnesa sin ella.
    Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

    Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guadarla.
    La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

    Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
    Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

    Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
    Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

    La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
    Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

    Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
    Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

    De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
    Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

    Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
    Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

    Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
    mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

    Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
    y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.


    Pablo Neruda

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  10. Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

    Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

    The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

    Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
    I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

    Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
    I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

    She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
    How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

    Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
    To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

    To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
    And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

    What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
    The night is starry and she is not with me.

    This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
    My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

    My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
    My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

    The same night whitening the same trees.
    We, of that time, are no longer the same.

    I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
    My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

    Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
    Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

    I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
    Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

    Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
    my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

    Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
    and these the last verses that I write for her.

    Pablo Neruda (ENGLISH)

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  11. this is a poem that touches you really very deeply...!!! Hope ya'll enjoy it...

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  12. Thanks guys a lot for the comments!!!!!

    Check the blog please, some new posts and discussions coming!!!!!!!!!

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