I am now staring at our collection of albums -- Pink Floyd Meddle to Blind Faith Can't Find My way Home. When moving about the country, the first things out of the trunk were the albums and record player and amp/receiver. Need that music to connect with some kind of ground. Crank up Proud Mary and move in was the motto (helluva bass guitar on that one!). I like Mary and her crew but didn't know she did so much solo stuff. Hoping for you a better new year -- sounds like the past one was pretty much a bummer for you.
Hi David, no I am not on facebook. I've heard too many horror stories and don't want "a million friends", plus they can get a lot of info on you. I like my privacy, so I've not entered into it. Why do you ask?
It is good to read your comment, here. I still have that nice letter you sent me, with your wonderful book of poems. How are you doing these days?
Thought you may like this by Pesian poet Forugh Farrokhazad:
Call to Arms
Only you, O Iranian woman, have remained In bonds of wretchedness, misfortune, and cruelty; If you want these bonds broken, grasp the skirt of obstinacy
Do not relent because of pleasing promises, never submit to tyranny; become a flood of anger, hate and pain, excise the heavy stone of cruelty.
It is your warm embracing bosom that nurtures proud and pompous man; it is your joyous smile that bestows on his heart warmth and vigor.
For that person who is your creation, to enjoy preference and superiority is shameful; woman, take action because a world awaits and is in tune with you.
Sleeping in a dark grave is happier for you than this abject servitude and misfortune; where is that proud man..? Tell him to bow his head henceforth at your threshold.
Where it that proud man? Tell him to get up because a woman is here rising to battle him; her words are the truth, in which cause she will never shed tears out of weakness.
Iranian Culture (A Persianist View) Michael C. Hillmann page 151
6 comments:
I am now staring at our collection of albums -- Pink Floyd Meddle to Blind Faith Can't Find My way Home.
When moving about the country, the first things out of the trunk were the albums and record player and amp/receiver. Need that music to connect with some kind of ground.
Crank up Proud Mary and move in was the motto (helluva bass guitar on that one!).
I like Mary and her crew but didn't know she did so much solo stuff.
Hoping for you a better new year -- sounds like the past one was pretty much a bummer for you.
Season greeting to one of the most beautiful woman on the web
david
ps are you on facebook?
Hi David, no I am not on facebook. I've heard too many horror stories and don't want "a million friends", plus they can get a lot of info on you. I like my privacy, so I've not entered into it. Why do you ask?
It is good to read your comment, here. I still have that nice letter you sent me, with your wonderful book of poems. How are you doing these days?
Blessings,
Rhi
Ah, Mary. There will never be another like her. This is a great song!
Happy New Year, Rhi!
Thought you may like this by Pesian poet Forugh Farrokhazad:
Call to Arms
Only you, O Iranian woman, have remained
In bonds of wretchedness, misfortune, and cruelty;
If you want these bonds broken,
grasp the skirt of obstinacy
Do not relent because of pleasing promises,
never submit to tyranny;
become a flood of anger, hate and pain,
excise the heavy stone of cruelty.
It is your warm embracing bosom
that nurtures proud and pompous man;
it is your joyous smile that bestows
on his heart warmth and vigor.
For that person who is your creation,
to enjoy preference and superiority is shameful;
woman, take action because a world
awaits and is in tune with you.
Sleeping in a dark grave is happier for you
than this abject servitude and misfortune;
where is that proud man..? Tell him
to bow his head henceforth at your threshold.
Where it that proud man? Tell him to get up
because a woman is here rising to battle him;
her words are the truth, in which cause
she will never shed tears out of weakness.
Iranian Culture (A Persianist View) Michael C. Hillmann page 151
This written circa 1958
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