The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will.
Czeslaw MiloszRead
Love means to look at yourself_x000D_ The way one looks at distant things_x000D_ For you are only one thing among many.
Interpretation
Love involves seeing oneself in the broader context of existence and relationships.
In this quote, Czeslaw Milosz emphasizes the importance of perspective in love. To truly love, one must recognize their place in the world and acknowledge the interconnectedness of individuals, understanding that love is not just about self-importance but about appreciating oneself as part of a larger tapestry of life.
In practice
In a discussion about the nature of love during a relationship seminar.
The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will.
We have become indifferent to content, and react, not even to form, but to technique, to technical efficiency itself.
Do not feel safe. The poet remembers._x000D_ You can kill one, but another is born._x000D_ The words are written down, the deed, the date.
The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.
I imagine the earth when I am no more: Women's dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley. Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born, Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.
Yet falling in love is not the same as being able to love.
Hatsumi had a pretty good idea that Nagasawa was sleeping around, but she never complained to him. She was seriously in love with him, but she never made demands. 'I don't deserve a girl like Hatsumi,' Nagasawa once said to me. I had to agree with him.
When a man is in love how can he use old words? Should a woman desiring her lover lie down with grammarians and linguists? I said nothing to the woman I loved but gathered love's adjectives into a suitcase and fled from all languages.
They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.
What are you thinking?β She asks. -That you are beautiful. That not everyone could see it. I almost became the kind of person who could not.
In love longing I listen to the monk's bell. I will never forget you even for an interval short as those between the bell notes.
Of all the Gods, Love is the best friend of humankind, the helper and healer of all ills that stand in the way of human happiness.
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