fredag, april 22, 2011

tumblr

Denna blogg har legat i dvala länge. Tänkte bara meddela den som eventuellt snubblar in här att jag på slowpilgrim.tumblr.com lägger upp lite citat, bilder och diverse som jag läser och hittar på nätet.

tisdag, september 14, 2010

måndag, september 13, 2010

exegetiskt tips

39. Certain brethren came and asked Abba Anthony a question about the Book of the Levites, and the old man went forth to the desert, and Abba Ammon, who knew his habit, followed him secretly. And when the old man had gone some distance, he cried out with a loud voice, and said, "O God, send Moses unto me, and let him teach me [the meaning of] this verse"; and straightway a voice was heard holding converse with him. Now Abba Ammon heard this voice, and said, "I heard the voice which spake with him, but the force of the verse I never learned."

torsdag, september 09, 2010

kristen politik.

434. A certain old man used to say, "It is right for a man to take up the burden for those who are akin (or near) to him, whatsoever it may be, and, so to speak, to put his own soul in the place of that of his neighbour, and to become, if it were possible, a double man; and he must suffer, and weep, and mourn with him, and finally the matter must be accounted by him as if he himself had put on the actual body of his neighbour, and as if he had acquired his countenance and soul, and he must suffer for him as he would for himself. For thus is it written:– 'We are all one body,' and this [passage] also affordeth information concerning the holy and mysterious kiss."

måndag, september 06, 2010

å ena sidan å andra sidan

21. They tell the story of a certain brother who came to Scete to see Abba Arsenius, and who went into the church and entreated the clergy to take him to see him; and the clergy said unto him, "Refresh thyself a little, and thou shalt see him." And the brother said unto them, "I will eat nothing before I meet him and see him" ; and when the clergy heard this they sent a brother with him to shew him Abba Arsenius, because his cell was some distance away. And when they had arrived there, they knocked at the door and went inside, and having saluted him, and prayed, they sat down and held their peace; and the brother who was from the church answered and said, "I will depart, pray ye for me." But when the other brother saw that he possessed not freedom of speech with the old man, he said unto the brother from the church, "I also will go with thee," and they departed together. Then he entreated him, saying, "Take me also to Abba Moses who was a thief," and when they went to him, the old man received them with joy, and having refreshed them greatly he dismissed them in peace. And the brother who had brought the visitor to Abba Moses said unto him, "Behold, I brought thee to a man from a foreign land, and to an Egyptian, which of the two pleaseth thee?" And he answered and said unto him, ”The Egyptian who hath just received me, and refreshed me." And when one of the old men heard what had happened, he prayed to God, and said, "O Lord, shew me this matter; one fleeth from the world for Thy Name's sake, and another receiveth and is gracious for Thy Name's sake." And behold, suddenly there appeared unto him on the river two great boats, and lo, Abba Arsenius and the Spirit of God were travelling in silence in the one, and Abba Moses and the angels of God were in the other, and they were feeding the monk with honey from the comb.


s. 8-9 här.

onsdag, juni 09, 2010

Vila i frid, mormor



(mormor Maj somnade in 3 juni i Uppsala. dikten är skriven av Oscar Levertin och så sent som i höstas hörde jag henne, 94 år gammal, recitera den ur sitt berömda minne. Nu har hon funnit sitt Ithaka.)

Jag drömt som främling på en främmad strand
Gud vet hur många år.
Nu vill jag hem. Jag redan lagt från land,
i silkesseglet stormen slår.
Framåt mot obefarna vattendrag
förbi Herakles' stoder
mot fjärran ö i blå arkipelag
jag vridit skeppets roder.

Där ligger solskenslyst i havets mitt
mitt Ithaka, den ö,
där fruktträdsvalven evigt lysa vitt
och dyningarna dö
i säven som en mattad aftonsång
från kärleksdomnad lyra,
dit, vore färden än så hård och lång,
vill jag min farkost styra.

Där stå det vita, marmorsvala hus,
i vilket jag vill bo.
Där silverpoppeln har det högtidssus,
som hägnar med sin ro.
Ack, världens vägar, jag är trött på dem!
Jag hör det dunkla kravet
mot längtans Ithaka, mitt hjärtats hem,
min vita ö i havet.

På hemfärd stadd jag lyssnar så förstrött
på livets lust och larm
som på en man, som av en slump mig mött
och håller fast min arm.
I bröder, än jag går som en bland er,
men ren mot slag som smekning
med avskedsstundens gåtfullhet jag ler.
Jag har gjort upp min räkning.

Blott starkare förnimmer jag var dag
den manande musik,
som eko är av kvällens böljeslag
emot min hemös vik.
Jag drömmer lutad över skeppets toft.
I skum delfiner skalkas,
än syns ej ön, men luftens mandeldoft
förtäljer, att jag nalkas.

Så vill jag bära allt, vad än en man
kan bära utav ve,
ty ett jag vet, ej evigt räcka kan
mitt hjärtas odyssé.
Min sorgs, min glädjes skiljemynt—allt glöms
som mull i mull begravet,
när skeppet når sitt Ithaka, sin dröms
vårvita ö i havet.