A Poem from Aeon Entelechy Evangelion by Earthscorpion Essay Example for Free

A Poem from Aeon Entelechy Evangelion by Earthscorpion Essay some a star must have been there for you so you cleverness feel it. A dither lifted towards you out of the past, or, as you walked past an open window, a violin gave of itself. All this was their mission. But could you sell it? Were you not always, still, distracted by expectation, as if every last(predicate) you experienced, like a Beloved, came near to you? (Where could you contain her, with each(prenominal) the vast strange thoughts in you going in and out, and often staying the night. ) But if you are yearning, then whistle the lovers for long heir notorious feelings have not been immortal enough. Those, you almost envied them, the forsaken, that you found as sweet as those who were satisfied. Begin, always as new, the unattainable praising think the hero prolongs himself, even his falling was impenetrablely a pretext for being, his latest rebirth. But lovers are taken back by exhausted personality into h erself, as if there were not the power to make them again. Have you remembered Gastara Stampa sufficiently yet, that any girl, whose lover has g whizz, might feel from that intenser example of love Could I only become like her? Should not these ancient sufferings be finally fruitful for us? Isnt it time that, loving, we freed ourselves from the beloved, and, trembling, endured as the arrow endures the bow, so as to be, in its flight, something much than itself? For staying is nowhere. Voices, voices. Hear then, my heart, as only saints have heard so that the mighty call raised them from the primer coat they, though, knelt on impossibly and paid no attention such was their listening. Not that you could withstand Gods voice utmost from it. But listen to the breath, the unbroken message that creates itself from the silence.It rushes towards you now, from those youthfully dead. Whenever you entered, didnt their fate speak to you, quietly, in churches in Naples or Rome? Or else an ins cription exaltedly impressed itself on you, as lately the tablet in Santa mare Formosa. What do they will of me? That I should gently remove the semblance of injustice, that slightly, at times, hinders their spirits from a utter(a) moving-on. It is truly strange to no longer inhabit the earth, to no longer practice customs only acquired, not to give a meaning of human futurity to roses, and other expressly promising things o longer to be what one was in endlessly anxious hands, and to set aside even ones get proper name like a broken plaything. Strange not to go on compliments ones wishes. Strange to see all that was once in place, floating so loosely in space. And its hard being dead, and full of retrieval, before one gradually feels a little eternity. Though the living all make the error of drawing too sharp a distinction. Angels (they say) would often not know whether they go among living or dead. The eternal current sweeps all the ages, within it, through both the spheres, forever, and resounds above them in both.Finally they have no more need of us, the early-departed, weaned gently from earthly things, as one outgrows the mothers mild breast. But we, needing such great secrets, for whom sadness is often the source of a blessed progress, could we last without them? Is it a meaningless story how once, in the grieving for Linos, first music ventured to penetrate arid rigidity, so that, in startled space, which an almost godlike youth suddenly left forever, the emptiness first felt up the quivering that now enraptures us, and comforts, and helps.