Solitude (poem)

Arthurbodhi

This little poem by Ella Wheller Wilcox, that I like and want to share.


Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.


If you know or made another poems you could share it also. I will appreciate it.

Jeffrey

I didn't like it (no offense) because it presented happy people as more worthy. But that is my sorrow (sigh?)

"Trust your wound to a teacher's surgery.

Flies collect on a wound.

They cover it,

those flies of your self-protecting feelings,

your love for what you think is yours.

Let a Teacher wave away the flies

and put a plaster on the wound.

Don't turn your head.

Keep looking

at the bandaged place.

That's where

the Light enters you.

And don't believe for a moment

that you're healing yourself."

Rumi

Arthurbodhi

Jeffrey said:

I didn't like it (no offense) because it presented happy people as more worthy. But that is my sorrow (sigh?)

No offense taken, actually I see this poem in other way, we all are sad or happy in our life, but sadness is understanded like something that is not to share. Something that is to be experimented individualy, is like "suffering", we all suffer, but when I suffer I don't need to share this suffering with someone else. By myself I need to fight to cease it. No one else could help me in that. Anyways that is the way that I understant it.

Thanks for share that poem

Jeffrey

I would say that makes sense, but one thing my therapist told me when as a way of coping is that if you are overwhelmed with suffering you should tell someone if it possible and appropriate. For example I could talk to family, professionals, or trusted friends if I am at the end of my wits.

What you said does make sense. I feel better being alone and reflecting when I am depressed and I don't want to bring people down. But I think it is important to talk about your feelings with a person who is appropriate to talk to.

Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror

up to where you're bravely working.



Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,

here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.



Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.

If it were always fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.



Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding.

the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated

as bird wings.
Rumi