Who then will not look with awe upon this our chameleon, or who, at least, will look with greater admiration on any other being? This creature, man, whom Asclepius the Athenian, by reason of this very mutability, this nature capable of transforming itself, quite rightly said was symbolized in the mysteries by the figure of Proteus. This is the source of those metamorphoses, or transformations, so celebrated among the Hebrews and among the Pythagoreans; for even the esoteric theology of the Hebrews at times transforms the holy Enoch into that angel of divinity which is sometimes called malakh-ha-shekhinah and at other times transforms other personages into divinities of other names; while the Pythagoreans transform men guilty of crimes into brutes or even, if we are to believe Empedocles, into plants; and Mohammed, imitating them, was known frequently to say that the man who deserts the divine law becomes a brute. And he was right; for it is not the bark that makes the tree, but its ins...
They say that when we fall in love it is forever, and perhaps that is true. Even though we change who we are through time, through our life experiences, through emotions, through the dreams and hopes we follow, we remember and we forget; and even though those whom we love change as well . . . Love persists in our souls eternally, as a timeless flame.
"A Poet to his Beloved"
by William Butler Yeats
I bring you with reverent hands
the books of m numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time;
White woman with numberless dreams
I bring you my passionate rhyme.
And if you shall ever try to measure love, measure it in passion; remember all the things that your lover did for you, how much your lover inspired you, how much he/she admires you, and how much he/she cares for you. And if you ever let him be, or let her be, then let it be, beca...
Soft, smooth surface like milk made flesh… Airy sway of millions and trillions of strings as if the wind were sweetly kissing the meadow…two dreamlike galaxies which emphasize a soaring brilliance into a charming Eden of delight…and a precious melodic voice so innocent, so mysterious and natural in sound that graces God’s name for such creation in the perfect time sung.
Symbolism is a very visual writing technique, it makes you appreciate that in a more vivid matter; that which is not named but felt by the letters that fly around and describe it. Stepháne Mallarmé (mahl-ahr-may’) presents a more elaborated approach of this, in one of his interviews:
“The Evolution of Literature;” by Jules Huret (a French journalist) in 1891:
“As far as content is concerned,” Mallarmé answered, “I feel that the young poets are nearer than the Parnassians to the poetic ideal. The latter still treat their subjects as the hold philosophers and orators did: that is, they pr...