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poniedziałek, 31 marca 2008

The Invitation

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

Polish version: Przyjacielu

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

13 komentarzy:

tqmcintl pisze...

heyyyyy Maria
this is a classic first english post

I want to steal it for my blog
u wont sue
will u?

Jim pisze...

this post shud be retitled TRUE GRIT

bindhiya pisze...

Dear Maria,
This a wonderful post!
beautiful! beautiful!
I will be back to read again..
Love to you and family..

Noushy Syah pisze...

Hi Maria,
Hope you are fine...

Finally you posted a lovely poem in English!! That is so meaningful...

"It doesn't matter how old are you, your appearance or how much money you have...we are here to be friends!"..:)

Take care my friend.

Shionge pisze...

This is so sweet Maria and thanks for sending wishes to Shania :D

Anonimowy pisze...

it matters NOUSHY
if I was older and wiser

I wud have proposed
Maria wud u have accepted?

Keshi pisze...

this is so beautiful Maria!



Sonia pisze...

Just a lovely poem, Maria!

Thank you for your visiting and nice comment!

Nilesh Agarwal pisze...

reminds me of If by Rudyard Kipling
my dad made me memorize the poem

Nilesh Agarwal pisze...

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


Anonimowy pisze...

i see u have many indian friends like your daughter

u must visit India some day


Fliss and Mike Adventures pisze...

I happen to stumble across your site... I saw this poem... it is gorgeous... will come back to visit again... take care

Vest pisze...

Maria. Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.

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