June 2008

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;
caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
sino estelas en la mar.


Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing behind
one sees the path
that never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road
Only wakes upon the sea

by Antonio Machado ( Translated by Betty Craige)


Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honey’d cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness–to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

John Keats

( Flower and Beetle do not depict any specific gender. This love cycle can be applied to the ” selfless” love of a lover and his/her beloved , whatever gender they belong to 🙂 )

Hi, I am Mr. ( or Miss ) Beetle…

I just like you very much, I don’t want anything from you…

I love you more than anything else…and my love for you is selfless…

…and I will love you forever…………

وہ ایک لمحہ عذاب کا تھا
وہ موسمِ گُل اضطراب کا تھا
کہیں پہ انجان وسعتیں  تھیں
کہیں پہ جاں بخش تھیں فصیلیں
اسی تضادِ رنگ و بوُ میں
فیصلے کی گھڑی تھی پہنچی
وفا پرست تھے جو زندگی کے
ساحلوں پہ کھڑے رہے تھے
عشق تھا پر جن کا رستہ
سمندروں میں اتر گئے تھے

یہ دنیا خوبصورت ہے“ سے “


That was the moment of anguish
That was the moment of restlessness
There were unknown horizons and
life-giving boundaries
With these contrasts of colors and scents
the moment of decision had come
Those loyal to the life
stayed at the shores
Those who were seekers of love
walked into the ocean

From Yeh Dunya Khubsoorat Hai”

This nice picture lead to this poem