Éveillé

I

Éveillé! Pour le soleil du matin de la nuit la plus noire
A jeté la Pierre qui met les Etoiles en Vol
Tiens! Le chasseur de l’Est a pris
La tourelle du sultan dans un noeud de lumière.

Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light.

Wach! Für den Morgen in der Napf der Nacht
Hat den Stein geworfen und die Sterne zum Flug gejagt:
Und Lo! Der Jäger des Ostens hat gefangen
Der Turm des Sultans in ein Schall des Lichts.

Awake!

 

Magicians Penn and Teller would certainly agree that life is one grand illusion.

I am not sure who should get first credit for saying that life is an illusion, a dream. Buddha is often cited as the source, and the closest thing I come to is, “What we think, we become.” That is not a bad thought – to be, think. When I was a child not paying attention, my dad said, “Wake up and get with the program.” That too is a bit of advice I rely on.

Awake, walk downstairs in your flannel PJs, grind coffee beans from a small company like Coava, let the aroma reaches your nose, pour a cup, add a little cream, hold it in your hands and feel the warmth, then sip slowly while watching the sun rise on the horizon.  Observe the darkness disappear, watch the clouds appear in shades of red and gold.

And, of course, be happy for the moment, this is your life, as Omar said.

 

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