| |
[12. Mar 2014|22:01] |
Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism: they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings. Things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsay able than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.
***
Gribēju atrast un izlasīt E.O.Vilsona pagājšgad publicēto "Letters to a Young Scientist", un uzgāju daudz senāku grāmatu, pēc kuras tai darināts nosaukums, Rilkes "Letters to a Young Poet". Šāda veida misticisms man liekas ļoti tuvs.
***
And if what is near you is far away, then your vastness is already among the stars and is very great; be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend. |
|
|
