Rumäniens andlige fader talar om bönen, precis innan han dog.
onsdag, juni 27, 2007
måndag, juni 25, 2007
onsdag, juni 06, 2007
vertigo
den här bilden har nån gjort genom att ta en ruta varje minut från hitchcocks film vertigo (via alan jacobs).
tisdag, juni 05, 2007
THE ICON OF THE THEOTOKOS OF VALAAM RETURNED TO HOME MONASTERY FROM SPACE + Православие.Ru
THE ICON OF THE THEOTOKOS OF VALAAM RETURNED TO HOME MONASTERY FROM SPACE + Православие.Ru: "The copy of the miracle working icon of Theotokos of Valaam returned to its home monastery at the Ladozhskoye lake. According to the press secretary of the Valaam monastery Mikhail Shishkov, the revered icon was met at the main cathedral on the island, where it would be kept from now on.
Oil-painted copy of the miracle working Valaam icon was delivered to the space station with the blessing of the great Northern monastery in September 2005. It was carried by a freight spaceship Progress M54, and, according to the astronauts, has purified the space station. Accompanying Sergey Krikalev and John Phillips it flew around the Earth more than a thousand times.
The original version of the Theotokos of Valaam was created at the end of the nineteenth century by the monk of the Valaam monastery Alipy (Konstantinov). The Mother of God is pictured full height, walking on clouds with Her Son in Her arms. The space station’s copy was painted by the brothers of the Valaam monastery. Visitors from the orbital space center arrived at the monastery last summer, and Bishop Pankraty (Zherdev) of Troitsk offered them the shrine to forward to the space station."
fredag, juni 01, 2007
Czeslaw Milosz - Poetry: Encounter
Czeslaw Milosz - Poetry: Encounter:
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
Wilno, 1936"
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
Wilno, 1936"
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