(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Action Fields - Opening

The kind of ferocity displayed in extracting tuition from students in our schools is not even comparable to the way landowners get taxed. One day in a month is fixed as the deadline for the payment.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

An Autobiography: The Story Of My Experiments With Truth - Opening

INTRODUCTION

Four or five years ago, at the instance of some of my nearest co-workers, I agreed to write my autobiography. I made the start, but scarcely had I turned over the first sheet when riots broke out in Bombay and the work which culminated in my imprisonment at Yeravda.


Beacon Press Books
are published under the auspices of
the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations.

First Beacon paperback edition published in 1957
Foreword 1993 by Beacon Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America


This edition of Gandhi's autobiography is published by arrangement with the Navajivan Trust and is the only authorized American edition. The Navajivan Trust was founded by Gandhi, and all the royalties earned on this book are paid to it by the publisher for use in carrying on Gandhi's work.

Bells For John Whiteside's Daughter

There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all.

Her wars were bruited in our high window.
We looked among orchard trees and beyond
Where she took arms against her shadow,
Or harried unto the pond

The lazy geese, like a snow cloud
Dripping their snow on the green grass,
Tricking and stopping, sleepy and proud,
Who cried in goose, Alas,

For the tireless heart within the little
Lady with rod that made them rise
From their noon apple-dreams and scuttle
Goose-fashion under the skies!

But now go the bells, and we are ready,
In one house we are sternly stopped
To say we are vexed at her brown study,
Lying so primly propped.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Hippolytus - V:920

THESEUS
Men are such fools! Work, labor -- for what, then?
Numberless crafts that they teach each other;
twist and invent and discover; but one thing
always, it seems, will elude them, the cure for
all these clever accomplishments: wisdom.

Hippolytus - V:810

CHORUS
Unlucky woman, you endured;
your life, a dynasty's destruction;
your death, a deed unsanctioned.
You wrestled with yourself and lost.
We gaze, and do we see in you
the divine power that brought this darkness?

Hippolytus - V:620

HIPPOLYTUS
Great Zeus, why on this earth is there room for
women, that counterfeit version of mankind?
Why, if you needed to propagate people,
couldn't we go to your temples and buy them?
Why must we labor and sweat upon females?
We could pay pieces of gold or of silver,
bronze, lead, iron to pay for our offspring, charging the poor dads less than the rich ones,
everyone happily dwelling in houses
blissfully free of detestable females.
Now, as it is, what happens? The banes come
home with us, burdening, costing us dearly.
Positive proof that women are baneful's
this: that the father who got one and raised her
pays out more money, pays out a dowry,
just to be free of her after his trouble.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Metamorphoses - Closing

EPILOGUE
Now I have finished my work, which nothing can ever
destroy --
not Jupiter's wrath, nor fire nor sword, nor devouring
time.
That day which has power over nothing except this
body of mine
may come when it will and end the uncertain span of
my life.
But the finer part of myself shall sweep me in eternity,
higher than all the stars. My name shall be never
forgotten.
Wherever the might of Rome extends in the lands she
has conquered,
the people shall read and recite my words. Throughout
all ages,
if poets have vision to prophesy truth, I shall live in my
fame.

Metamorphoses - Book 15:835

Livia's son to adopt his name with the cares of his
office.
Only when he has come to Pylian Nestor's years
shall he rise to our home in the heavens and join the
star of his kinsman.
Meanwhile you must rescue his father's soul from his
cut-ridden body
and make him a comet, that deified Julius' image may always
gaze on my Capitol Hill from the height of his shrine in
the Forum.

Metamorphoses - Book 15:745

THE APOTHEOSIS OF JULIUS CAESAR

Aescalpius came from abroad to dwell in our shrines,
but Caesar is god in his native city. He showed his
genius
in war and in peace; but all his campaigns that ended
in triumphs,
all his achievements at home and his rapid promotion
to glory
did less to secure his change to a constellation or comet
than what was decreed by his son. Of the deeds of
Julius Caesar
none can be greater than standing father to Caesar
Augustus.

Metamorphoses - Book 15:445

Fire and sword shall give way before you. You'll go on
your mission,
bearing with you the gods that you've snatched from the
flames, until
you come to a strange new land which is kinder to you and
to Troy
than the country you left. I can see a city of Phyrgian
grandsons,
greater than any that is or has been or shall rise hereafter.
Other leaders, over the centuries, will render her powerful;
but one man born of Iulus' blood will make her the
mistress
of all the world. When the earth has enjoyed his presence,
the realms
of the sky will enjoy him too; he is finally destined for
heaven.'
So I remember that Helenus said to the pious Aeneas
bearing his household gods. I rejoice that the walls of my kinsmen
are rising so fast, that the Greeks won a war for the good of
the Trojans.

Metamorphoses - Book 15

The Apotheosis of Julius Caesar (745-870), whose murder occurred only a year before Ovid was born, is not easy to evaluate. The description of the sinister omens which preceded the assassination is deeply impressive. But how should we interpret the poet's extravagant praise of the emperor Augustus and the odd touch of irreverent humour which continues to mark his characterization of the gods?

Metamorphoses - Book 13:600

Supreme ruler of heave, I pray you to comfort his
spirit
by paying some tribute, and so to soothe the wounds
of his mother.'
Jupiter nodded assent. Young Memnon's high-built
pyre
collapsed, the flames leapt up, and rolling columns of
black smoke
darkened the light of day, as vapour rises like breath
from the rivers and forms a fog which the sun's bright
rays cannot penetrate.
Cinders of charcoal flew to the sky, then massed and
thickened
into a single body, assuming an outline and drawing
heat and life from fire.

Metamorphoses - Book 13:375

so I must rank above you. In the make-up of human
beings,
intelligence counts for more than our hands, and that is
our true strength.
'Princes of Greece, I call on you now to reward your
watchman.
Reward me for all those years of anxious and careful
devotion.
I ask you to give me the prize which I'm owed for my
dutiful service.
My work is complete: by removing the obstacle fate had
imposed,
by enabling the capture of Ilium's towers, I achieved their
capture.
By all the hopes that we share, by the toppling defences of
Troy,
in the name of the gods whose aid I recently stole from the
foe,
by anything yet to be done where intelligent action is
needed,
remember Ulysses! Or else, if it cannot be mine, let this
armour
be hers! -- and he pointed towards the fateful image of
Pallas.

Metamorphoses - Book 13:285

These, these, I say, were the shoulders on which the
corpse of Achilles
was borne from the field with the weapons I now am
striving to win.
I have the physical strength that is needed to bear such
a weight,
and I have the mind which will surely value this tribute
from you.

Metamorphoses - Book 13:135

You shouldn't let Ajax's dullness of intellect count in his
favour
or hold my quickness against myself; it has always been
used
in your service, my lords. Don't grudge me my eloquence,
such as it is;
it has often pleaded for you in the past, and now it is bound
to plead for its master. We cannot ignore the gifts that we
have.
'Ancestry, forebears, titles we haven't achieved for
ourselves,
are scarcely points we can urge.

Metamorphoses - Book 12:590

Do you rue the slaughter of so many thousands
defending the city?
Not to mention each one, are you haunted at least by
the ghost
of Hector, whose body was dragged all round the
stronghold he fought for?
Meanwhile that monster Achilles, a man more
blood-polluted
than war itself, lives on to ravage the work of our
hands.
Let him come my way: I'll ensure that he feels the
power of my trident.
But since I may not engage with my foe directly, I ask
you
to shoot an invisible arrow to catch the brute
unawares.'

Metamorphoses - Book 12:395

be called good-looking. But Cyallrus' looks couldn't save
him in battle.
His beard was just starting to grow, in a golden colour,
gold
as the golden mane which streamed from his shoulders
down to his withers.
His face was handsome and strong. His neck and his
shoulders, his hands
and his torso -- all indeed of his human features -- were like
the work of a famous sculptor. His horse's parts lower down
were no less perfect, unblemished. A mount for Castor, if
given
a head and a neck! Such a ridable back, such a muscular chest!

Metamorphoses - Book 12:17

the chicks she was losing. The crowd was
dumbfounded, but Calchas the prophet
unfolded his vision: 'Rejoice, you Greeks! We surely will
triumph.
Troy must fall, but our toil shall be long. These nine dead birds
presage nine years of war!' The snake, still coiled in the
tree's green
branches, turned into stone in the form of a serpentine
sculpture.

Metamorphoses - Book 9:500

But the gods have rules of their own. It is idle to
measure our human
codes and customs against the different conventions of
heaven.
No, I must either expel this forbidden desire from my
heart,
or else, I cannot, I pray for death before I give way,
and so to be laid on my funeral pyre, where my brother
can finally kiss my lips.

Metamorphoses - Book 9:240

The flames were rising, spreading all round and crackling
loudly,
licking away at the limbs of the hero, who calmly awaited
a foe he despised. The gods were afraid for the Earth's great champion;
but Jupiter, sensing their fear and beaming with pure
satisfaction,
grandly addressed them: 'You gods, this anxiety of yours is
a pleasure
to me. I offer myself wholehearted congratulations
that I should be called the father and king of a people that
cares,
that a son of mine should be also supported by your good
wishes.
This support is a tribute, I'm sure, to his own magnificent
exploits,
but I am myself in your debt. Now truly, my faithful subjects,
you mustn't be needlessly frightened. Ignore those flames on
Mount Oeta.
The hero who conquered all will conquer the fire you are
watching.
Vulcan's power will only affect the part he derives
from his mother's side. The part he derives
from his mother's side. The part he derives from me is
eternal,
it cannot be touched by death and is fully resistant to fire.
This part, when its time on earth is complete, will be
welcomed by me
to the realms of the sky, and I trust this action of mine will
give pleasure

Metamorphoses - Book 8:35

Beside herself with excitement, the daughter of Nisus was
almost
out of her mind. 'How happy the spear which he is
grasping!'
she said to herself. 'How happy the reins that his hands are
gripping!'

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Book Cycle

  • Euripides Plays
  • Sophocles Plays
  • Meditations by Descartes
  • Enquiries by Hume
  • The Green Knight by Iris Murdoch

Hippolytus - Opening

translated by Richard Moore

APHRODITE
Everyone knows me. I'm Cyprid, the goddess.
Sex and desire, my specialties, draw men
helpless from Pontus to Heracles' Pillars.
Those that delight in me, I can reward them;
those that detest me will harvest my hatred.
Even immortals get caught in my soft snares.
Goddesses love it when worshipers gather.

Copyright 1998 University of Pennsylvania Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

Published by
University of Pennsylvania Pree
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19104-4011

Euripides, 2

Hippolytus, Suppliant Women,
Helen, Electra, Cyclops

Edited by
David R. Slavitt and Palmer Bovie

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Metamorphoses - Book 6:61

Think how a tract of the sky, when the sun breaks suddenly through
at the end of a rain shower, is steeped in the long, great curve of a rainbow;
the bow is agleam with a range of a thousand various hues,
but the eye cannot tell where one fades into another;
adjacent
tones are so much the same, though the difference is clear at
the edges.
Such were the colours the two contestants used in the
fabric.
Their patterns were also shot with flexible threads of gold,
as they each spun out an old tale in the weft of their separate looms.
Minerva depicted the rock of Mars on the heights of
Cecrops
and wove the ancient dispute concerning the name of the land.

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