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e marre nga "Warrior of Light" issue no. 77

What is truth?
On January 30, 2001, I read the following piece of news in the Spanish newspaper "La Vanguardia".
"What is truth? The President of the Court, Josep Maria Pijuan, had to check which of the versions of rape offered by the girl victim, 11-year-old J., was closest to reality. The lawyers attending the questioning did not believe that she would manage to avoid contradicting herself in her deposition.
"At a certain moment the judge asked a rather philosophical question: What is truth? Is it what you imagine or what they asked you to tell?"
The girl stopped for a minute, then she answered:
"Truth is the bad they did to me."
"Lawyer Jufresa, a renowned and prestigious jurist, said that was one of the most brilliant definitions she had heard in her whole career."

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

"What is art?" - she asked.
"It is a malady."
"Love?"
"An Illusion."
"Religion?"
"The fashionable substitute for belief."
"You are a sceptic."
"Never! Scepticism is the beginning of faith."
"What are you?"
"To define is to limit."
"Give me a clue."
"Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth."
"You bewilder me..."

Lord Henry tek "the Picture of Dorian Gray"--Oscar Wilde

[Leila]

Desperation.

With the ascension of a new sultan, the wives of his predecessor, along with their entourages, were sent to the Old Palace, known as the Palace of the Unwanted Ones or the House of Tears. Their apartments in the Seraglio were torn down, and new ones erected and decorated for the new occupants. Not that the new occupants were always satisfied with their accomodations, no matter how luxurious:

Dearest Kalfa,
I have heard from someone that she will be moving to the apartment which should be mine. No! As the earth is old, so do I want that apartment myself. I cannot bear a younger woman occupying such a spacious place, and if our mighty master heard my plea he wouldn't object. Please, convey this to the valide sultana with my deepest respects. Why should she move there and I stay where I am? I must insist on my seniority priviledges. If this cannot be changed, I will simply not move to the Seraglio, I swear. But if she refuses to, that's a whole other affair. I will die rather than to let her have that beautiful apartment.

Letter from Behice Sultana to the kalfa (mistress of the house) (1839)

Eunuchs.

Because they were privy to the most intimate secrets of the harem and also had access to the outer world, the eunuchs became the most corrupt element in palace society. Surrounded by women trained to arouse passion in men, they spent their lives forever confronted by the loss of sexual capability. Many became skillful intriguers, translating their resentment into vengeance. We find such a creature in Montesquieu's Persian Letters:

The Seraglio is my Empire; and my ambition, the only passion left me, finds
no small gratification. I mark with pleasure that my presence is required at all
times; I willingly incur the hatred of all these women, because it establishes
me more firmly in my post. And they do not hate me for nothing, I can tell you:
I interfere with their most innocent pleasures; I am always in the way, an
insurmountable obstacle; before they know where they are, they find their
schemes frustrated.

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

The boat appeared to be hanging, as if by magic, midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference, prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might have been mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity with which they spun around, and for the gleaming and ghasty radiance they shot forth, as the rays of the full moon, from the circular rift amid the clouds...streamed in a flood of golden glory along the black walls, and far away down into the inermost recesses of the abyss. (Edgar Allan Poe, 1841)

[shigjeta]

It was true as he said. As a rule, when he started love-making, the emotion was strong enough to carry with it everything - reason, soul, blood - in a great sweep, like the Trent carries bodily its back-swirls and intertwinings, noiselessly. Gradually the little criticisms, the little sensations, were lost, thought also went, everything borne along in one flood. He became, not a man with a mind, but a great instinct. His hands were like creatures, living; his limbs, his body, were all life and consciousness, subject to no will of his, but living in themselves. Just as he was, so it seemed the vigorous, wintry stars were strong also with life. He and they struck with the same pulse of fire, and the same joy of strength which held the bracken-frond stiff near his eyes held his own body firm. It was as if he, and the stars, and the dark herbage, and Clara were licked up in an immense tongue of flame, which tore onwards and upwards. Everything rushed along in living beside him; everything was still, perfect in itself, along with him. This wonderful stillness in each thing in itself, while it was being borne along in a very ecstasy of living, seemed the highest point of bliss.

[Hyllien]

Tales from the Masnavi (of Rumi) Arthur J. Arberry

The lion and the beasts:
Free will is the striving to thank God for his favour; determinism on your part is a denial of that favour.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
To endeavour is not to restle with Destiny, since Destiny itself laid this labour upon us.

The Bedouin and his wife:
Wealth and Gold are like the cap, it is only the bald man who makes refuge out of his cap, the man with curly and handsome lock is all the happier when his cap is off.

The above sentences, which are only a drop of Mawlana's ocean, are better understood and much more radiant when read in context.

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

“Here she was a true harlot, obedient to her passionate and cruel female temperament; here she came to life, more refined yet more savage, more hateful yet more exquisite than before; here she aroused the sleeping senses of the male more powerfully, subjugated his will more surely with her charms—the charms of a great veneral flower, grown into a bed of sacrilege, reared in a hot house of impiety.”

A Rebours - Joris-Karl Huysmans

[FLOWER]

Gjithmone kur lexojme ndonje liber ka ndonje faqe pershkrim apo analize qe na terheq me shume, do te doja qe te ndanim me njeri tjetrin pjeset me te mira nga libra te ndryshem qe keni lexuar. (shpresoj qe te lejohen edhe ne gjuhe te huaj ketu)

[FLOWER]

Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be druken continually. Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry or with virtue, as you will. But be druken, And if sometime, on the stairs of a palace, or on the green side of a ditch, or in the dreary solitude of your own room, you should awaken and the drunkness be half or wholly slipped away from you, ask of the wind, or of the wave, or of the star, or of the bird, or of the clock, of whatever flies, or sighs or rocks, or sings, or speaks, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: It is the hour to be drunken! Be drunken, if you would not be martyred slaves of Time; be drunken continually! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will.
Baudelaire (pjese e Bodlerit e cituar ne librin e Eugene O' Neil-it "Long days journey into night"

[FLOWER]

Bente pjese ne ate tip serioz femrash te cilat jane si mjalti ne ngjyre te erret, i lemuar dhe jashtezakonisht ngjites; me nje gjest terheqes, hedhje flokesh prapa, me nje vervitje te vetme fshikulluese te veshtirimit te tyre mund te sundojne oden e te rrine te heshtura qofte edhe ne qender te ciklonit, gjoja te pavetedijshme per forcen e tyre te gravitetit, me ane te te cilit joshin ne menyre te parezistueshme mallin dhe shpirtrat e burrave, por edhe te grave.

Parfumi Patrik Zyskind