A thread for beautifull myths/anekdotes/poems etc

[Sir Darius the Clairvoyent]

Spoiler

Share whatever art, qoutes, scripture, music and so on as you feel like. The key is that it speaks to you. It is allways nice if you write a sentence or two on how you interpet it and what it means to you.

 

So, to be completly honest, i intend this thread to «document» beautifull writings i have encountered, but by all means: feel free to share stories meaningfull to you aswell:

 

Greeks on love:

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Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
Aristotle



According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”
Plato – symposium 

Cleanthes - hymn to Zeus (early seconds century bc)

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Translated by Stephen Hanselman

Most honored of immortals, many-named one, ever omnipotent,

Zeus, prime mover of nature, steering all things by your law,

Greetings! For it is proper for all mortals to speak to you:

For we all descend from you, bearing our share of your likeness

We alone, of all mortal creatures that live and move on earth.

So, I shall make song of you constantly and sing forever of your might.

Truly, this whole universe, spinning around the earth,

Obeys you wherever you lead, and willingly submits to your rule;

Such is the servant you hold in your unconquerable hands,

A double-edged, fiery, ever-living thunderbolt.

For by its strikes all the works of nature happen.

By it you direct the universal reason, which pervades all things

Intermixing with the great and small lights of the heavens.

Because of this you are the greatest, the highest ruler of all.

Not a single thing that is done on earth happens without you, God,

Nor in the divine heavenly sphere nor in the sea,

Except for what bad people do in their foolishness.

But you know how to make the crooked straight

And to bring order to the disorderly; even the unloved is loved by you.

For you have so joined all things into one, the good and the bad,

That they all share in a single unified everlasting reason.

It is shirked and avoided by all the wicked among mortals,

The wretched, who ever long for the getting of good things,

Neither see nor hear God’s universal law,

By which, obeying with understanding, they could share in the good life.

But instead they chase after this and that, far from the good,

Some in their aggressive zeal for fame,

Others with a disordered obsession with profits,

Still others in indulgence and the pleasurable exertions of the body.

[They desire the good] but are carried off here and there,

All the while in zealous pursuit of completely different outcomes.

But bountiful Zeus, shrouded in dark clouds and ruling the thunder,

Protect human beings from their ruinous ignorance;

Scatter it from our souls, grant that we might obtain

True judgment on which you rely to steer all things with justice;

So that having won honor, we may honor you in return,

Constantly singing of your works, as it is proper

For mortals to do. For neither mortals nor gods have any greater privilege

Than to make everlasting song of the universal law in justice.

The myth of Narcissius, reminagined by Oscar Wilde and recounted in «The alchemist»:

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The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

'Why do you weep?' the goddesses asked.

'I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied.

'Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,' they said, 'for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.'

'But... was Narcissus beautiful?' the lake asked.

'Who better than you to know that?' the goddesses asked in wonder. 'After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!'

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

'I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.'

'What a lovely story,' the alchemist thought.

Odins «mystic initation, Runatal 139-149:

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I know that I hung on a windy tree
nine long nights,
wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,
myself to myself,
on that tree of which no man knows from where its roots run.

No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn,
downwards I peered;
I took up the runes,
screaming I took them,
then I fell back from there

(139-140)

 

The unwise man is awake all night, 
and ponders everything over; 
when morning comes he is weary in mind, 
and all is a burden as ever.

(23)

Cattle die,
friends die,
and the same with you;
but I know of something that never dies
and that's a dead person's deeds.

(77)

 

 

Odin:

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Then I was fertilized and became wise;
I truly grew and thrived.
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work.

 

Death of Balder/Balders dream, poetic Edda

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    1.    Baldr’s Dreams were not cheerful; | in Breidablik he lay;
There boded ill his bale-bringer, | The fairest of all the gods.
    2.    Dreams he told to the Æsir, | and that drink of evil counsel
He mixed for Baldr, | Oðin, as he sought their rede.
    3.    “What is dreamt,” said Oðin, | “by Baldr now?
I thought of my son, | beloved of the Æsir,
He is doomed to die, | not fated to dwell
Long in the land of men.”
    4.    To the east sat a soothsayer | in Jotunheim,
Who at the council of gods was | Baldr’s bale the first to reveal:
“Ill it is to speak | what will fate have:
None can know what is to be.”
    5.    In the south sat the old one, | in Ironwood,
And in likeness of woman | the future she knew;
Much the spae-wife | spoke at the doom of the gods,
When the reed of Læra’s wood she sang.
    6.    “Ullr alone | of the gods was glad
He would ride on Hödr’s | steed to the bale-bringer’s slaying.”
    7.    The southward sat the old one, | in Ironwood,
And in likeness of woman | the future she knew;
Much the spae-wife | spoke at the doom of the gods,
When the reed of Læra’s wood she sang.
    8.    “All that are | in the world of men
Weep for Baldr; | weep thou, O Æsir!
Like a river unbound | is the foam of my weeping
And as the snows fall | from the snow-drifts.”
    9.    “Ill it is to speak | what will fate have:
None can know what is to be,
And now in grief | is Frigg, the fair,
At the fated death | of her son.”

 

So, some context before i continue. You can think of him as some sort of norse Jesus or Apollo. Beloved, beautifull, heart of gold etc. He was also asscociated with spring. His death  marks sets in fimbulvintr, a winter lasting three season and marks the beginnibg of the end: ragnarok/twiligt of the Gods. I find it quite poetic. If we see Balder as the personified good, being killed shot by a blind man with an arrow tippes with an mistietoe, a plant so ignificanr that that Fraya overlooked it, kills the ideal man asscociated with spring, witch sets in a tree season long winter. So thats how the world end, the ideal killed by his blind half-brother, tricked by the envious Loki (the tricster).

 

Just as a fun fact, the blind god who shot Balder, is named Hothr, and is who  the GoT character is based on.

Fimbulsvintr, Voluspa:

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“Brothers will fight | and kill each other,
Sisters’ children | will defile kinship.
It is harsh in the world, | whoredom rife
—an axe age, a sword age
—shields are riven—
a wind age, a wolf age—
before the world goes headlong.
No man will have
mercy on another.”

 

(Just as a side note, this is belived to have been a real event. An islandic, volnaic erruoprion took place in 550, witch blocked the sun for a significant period. I think this correspond well with the migration she as well?

Ragnarok (Translated by Jackson Crawford(Völuspá Stanzas 43-56).)

Spoiler

Fenrir howls terribly

before the doors to Hel;

the wolf will break its bonds

and run.

I know much wisdom,

I see deep in the future,

all the way to Ragnarok,

a dark day for the gods.

 

Brothers will fight one another

and kill one another,

cousins will break peace

with one another,

the world will be a hard place to live in.

It will be an age of adultery,

an age of the axe, an age of the sword,

an age of storms, an age of wolves,

shields will be cloven.

Before the world sinks into the sea,

there will be no man left

who is true to another.

 

The giants are at play,

and the gods’ fate is kindled

at the blast

of Gjallarhorn:

Heimdall blows that horn hard,

holds it high aloft,

Odin speaks

with Mimir’s head.

 

The old tree sighs

when the giant shakes it—

Yggdrasil still stands,

but it trembles.

 

Fenrir howls terribly

before the doors to Hel;

the wolf will break its bonds

and run.

I know much wisdom,

I see deep in the future,

all the way to Ragnarok,

a dark day for the gods.

 

Hrym advances from the east

with a shield before him,

and the Midgard-serpent

is in a monstrous rage.

The serpent beats the waves,

and the eagle screams eagerly,

splitting corpses with its pale beak.

Naglfar, the giants’ ship, is released.

 

That ship sails from the east,

bearing giants

over the sea,

and Loki is its captain.

The giants are coming

together with Fenrir,

and Loki too is with them

on that voyage.

 

What news from the gods?

What news from the elves?

All Jotunheim is roaring,

the Aesir are in counsel,

and the dwarves,

creatures of the mountains,

tremble by their doors of stone.

Have you learned enough yet, Allfather?

 

Surt comes from the south

with a bright light in his hand,

yes, the sun shines upon

the sword in his grasp.

The mountains collapse,

the trolls fall,

men walk the road to Hel,

and the skies divide above.

 

Then comes

the second sorrow of Frigg,

when Odin goes

to fight the wolf,

and Frey goes to fight the giant Surt.

Then Odin, Frigg’s husband,

will fall to Fenrir.

 

Then comes the great

son of Odin, Vithar,

to fight, to avenge

his father on the wolf.

He shoves his sword

into the mouth of Fenrir,

all the way to the heart,

and thus Odin is avenged.

Then Thor comes,

Earth’s son,

Odin’s son,

to fight the Midgard-serpent—

the protector of Midgard

will kill that serpent in his rage.

But all humankind

will die out of the world

when Thor falls

after only nine steps,

struck down by the venom

of the honorless serpent.

 

The sun turns black,

the earth sinks into the sea,

the bright stars

fall out of the sky.

Flames scorch

the leaves of Yggdrasil,

a great bonfire

reaches to the highest clouds.

 

Fenrir howls terribly

before the doors to Hel;

the wolf will break its bonds

and run.

I know much wisdom,

I see deep in the future,

all the way to Ragnarok,

a dark day for the gods.

 

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Edited November 26, 2023 by NaturaNaturans

[Sir Darius the Clairvoyent]

I could probally post a lot more, but this wall of text is allready long enough. To long, some might say. If you have any thoughts on the texts, or would like to share some aswell, that would be appreicates.

[Sir Darius the Clairvoyent]

The Dark Night of the Soul

 

Spoiler

 

BY ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS

TRANSLATED BY DAVID LEWIS

I.

 

In a dark night,

With anxious love inflamed,

O, happy lot!

Forth unobserved I went,

My house being now at rest.

 

 

II.

 

In darkness and in safety,

By the secret ladder, disguised,

O, happy lot!

In darkness and concealment,

My house being now at rest.

 

 

III.

 

In that happy night,

In secret, seen of none,

Seeing nought myself,

Without other light or guide

Save that which in my heart was burning.

 

 

IV.

 

That light guided me

More surely than the noonday sun

To the place where He was waiting for me,

Whom I knew well,

And where none appeared.

 

 

V.

 

O, guiding night;

O, night more lovely than the dawn;

O, night that hast united

The lover with His beloved,

And changed her into her love.

 

 

VI.

 

On my flowery bosom,

Kept whole for Him alone,

There He reposed and slept;

And I cherished Him, and the waving

Of the cedars fanned Him.

 

 

VII.

 

As His hair floated in the breeze

That from the turret blew,

He struck me on the neck

With His gentle hand,

And all sensation left me.

 

 

VIII.

 

I continued in oblivion lost,

My head was resting on my love;

Lost to all things and myself,

And, amid the lilies forgotten,

Threw all my cares away.

 

 

 

 

Credit to @Apech for introducing me to it. I relate strongly to it, witch is the reason for my background picture (on my profile), the hand of God:

So close but yet so far.

 

 

———-

I have shared this before, but i like it a lot. 
 

The Three Metamorphoses (Thus spoke Zarathustra, Nietzche)

 

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"OF THREE metamorphoses of the spirit do I tell you: how the spirit becomes a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child. Many heavy things are there for the spirit, the strong reverent spirit that would bear much: for the heavy and the heaviest longs its strength.

 

What is heavy ? so asks the spirit that would bear much, and then kneels down like the camel, and wants to be well laden. 

 

What is the heaviest thing, you heroes ? asks the spirit that would bear much, that I may take it upon me and exult in my strength.Is it not this: To humiliate oneself in order to mortify one's pride ? To exhibit one's folly in order to mock at one's wisdom ? 

 

Or is it this: To desert our cause when it triumphs ? To climb high mountains to tempt the tempter ? Or is it this: To feed on the acorns and grass of knowledge, and for the sake of truth to suffer hunger in one's soul ? 

 

Or is it this: To be sick and send away the comforters, and to make friends of the deaf, who never hear your requests ? Or is it this: To go into foul water when it is the water of truth, and not avoid cold frogs and hot toads ? Or is it this: To love those who despise us, and to give one's hand to the phantom who tries to frighten us ?

 

All these heaviest things the spirit that would bear much takes upon itself: like the camel, that, when laden, hastens into the desert, so speeds the spirit into its desert. 

 

But in the loneliest desert happens the second metamorphosis: here the spirit becomes a lion; he will seize his freedom and be master in his own wilderness. Here he seeks his last master: he wants to fight him and his last God; for victory he will struggle with the great dragon. Who is the great dragon which the spirit no longer wants to call Lord and God ? 

 

"Thou-shalt," is the great dragon called. But the spirit of the lion says, "I will."

 

"Thou-shalt," lies in his path, sparkling with gold- a scale-covered beast; and on each scale glitters a golden "Thou-shalt!" The values of a thousand years glitter on those scales, and thus speaks the mightiest of all dragons: "All values of all things glitter on me. All value has long been created, and I am all created value. Verily, there shall be no more 'I will'." 

 

Thus speaks the dragon. 

 

My brothers, why does the spirit need the lion ? Why is the beast of burden, which renounces and is reverent, not enough ?

 

To create new values - that, even the lion cannot accomplish: but to create for oneself freedom for new creating - that freedom the might of the lion can seize. To create freedom for oneself, and give a sacred No even to duty: for that, my brothers, the lion is needed. 

 

To assume the right to new values - that is the most terrifying assumption for a load-bearing and reverent spirit. To such a spirit it is preying, and the work of a beast of prey. He once loved "Thou-shalt" as the most sacred: now is he forced to find illusion and arbitrariness even in the most sacred things, that freedom from his love may be his prey: the lion is needed for such prey. 

 

But tell me, my brothers, what the child can do, which even the lion could not do ? Why must the preying lion still become a child ?

 

The child is innocence and forgetting, a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a sacred Yes. For the game of creation, my brothers, a sacred Yes is needed: the spirit now wills his own will; the world's outcast now conquers his own world. 

 

Of three metamorphoses of the spirit I have told you: how the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child. 

 

Thus spoke Zarathustra."

 

 

Edited November 26, 2023 by NaturaNaturans