Charlotte Freeman, widow of Army Capt. Brian Freeman responds to questions during a news interview
(AP Photo/Frank Franklin II)
Remembrance
by Emily Brontë
Cold in the earth--and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern leaves cover
Thy noble heart forever, ever more?
Cold in the earth--and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring;
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!
Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world's tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!
No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me;
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.
But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.
Then did I check the tears of useless passion—
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.
And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?
- - -
Read more about Capt. Brian Freeman here.
An account of Ali’s hospitalization and treatment is here.
7 comments:
for peace
For peace, and to comfort those who suffer upon their return.
for peace and compassion
from "The Sounds of Water's Footsteps"
by Sohrab Sepheri
translated by Massud Farzan
I hear the sound of the gardens breathing
the sound of the darkness raining from a leaf
the light clearing its throat behind the tree . . .
Sometimes, like a stream pebble, my soul is washed clean
and shines
I haven't seen two pine trees hate each other
I haven't seen a poplar sell its shadow
the elm tree gives its branch to the crow at no charge
wherever there is a leaf I rejoice . . .
Witness
From Tarjuman al-Ashwaq
by Muhammed Ibn 'Ali Ibn 'Arabi
(1165-1240 AD)
O Marvel! a garden amidst the flames.
My heart has become capable of every form:
it is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks,
and a temple for idols and the pilgrim's Kaa'ba,
and the tables of the Torah and the book of the Quran.
I follow the religion of Love: whatever way Love's camels take,
that is my religion and my faith.
(Translation by Reynold A Nicholson.)
for peace
I witness
http://defender.west-point.org/service/eulogy/listing/1%2C1126%2C55921%2C00.html
For hope.
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