Fabrizio Ulivieri

  A Silvia y Claudia Este dolor que no pasa como rayo que no cesa, del corazón tu alimento que vive en su aliento, y no pasa, no cesa, y tu nombre mi herida, come muerte de mi vida. Y quiero encontrarte, y besarte y hablarte, mi pasión y mi deseo, de mis dias triste apogeo. Y este dolor no pasa, y como rayo no cesa, tu ansiosa calentura, de mi sangre amargura. Como fuego lo inflamas, y como viento lo derramas, y duelen, en tanta ruina, tus ojos como espina. Tu nombre se vuelve come herida y se hace muerte de mi vida.

Soy un hombre, un hombre de carne y hueso. Un hombre que nace, sufre y muere, que bebe y juega, duerme, piensa y quiere, como decía De Unamuno.  Un hombre que busca siempre el espíritu, con el corazón, pero que vive en un cuerpo, que tiene sus razones y se las grita al hombre, que soy yo. El espíritu es mi hermano. Un hermano que no siempre se entrega, pero si lo llamas, le ruegas, él viene... Pero lo rechaza el cuerpo, a veces no lo quiere porque el espíritu viola sus razones. El cuerpo tiene sus razones, que muchas veces son diferentes de las del espíritu, porque el cuerpo es mortal y el espíritu no. El espíritu es eterno, y el cuerpo  quatenus in se est, in suo esse perseverare conatur , en cuanto es en sí, se esfuerza por perseverar en su ser. El cuerpo vive de una volición continua y perseverante. La filosofía y la religión rara vez sitúan al cuerpo, al hombre de carne y hueso, en el centro de su pensamiento, de su núcleo. En el centro está el alma, el sujeto pensante, el cogito,

  Ausgehend von Nietzsche dominierte die Idee, dass Gott tot ist, das Saeculum und nahm eine destruktive Idee für die katholische Kirche vorweg, deren Ergebnisse wir heute in Bergoglio sehen. Die Vorstellung, dass Gott tot ist, entstand sicherlich in einem Klima, in dem die Kollaborateure des Bösen immer mehr an Boden gewonnen haben. Die Mitarbeiter des Bösen haben die Realität des Saeculums verändert und manipuliert, und diejenigen, die darüber nachgedacht haben, haben über eine Realität nachgedacht, die von einer Macht, dem Bösen, geschaffen wurde, die ihre Funktion im Saeculum gefördert hat – zum Schaden des Geistes, der zu Gott führt. Da wir mittlerweile so viele Beweise dafür haben, dass wir die Geschichte neu schreiben müssen, muss auch die Philosophie neu überdacht und neu geschrieben werden.

  Some sentences stop your attention when you read a text.  By reading Parmenides I was entangled by this sentence which made me stop reading and caught my mind. ὡς τά δοκοῦντα [1]  χρῆν δοκιμῶς εἶναι "things that appear have always been to be as they appear". What could that χρῆν εἶναι mean? That we translated with the paraphrase "have always been". It certainly refers to something that was before the δοκίμως, "what is as it appears", which has a form because it is entrusted to, relied on the χρῆν εἶναι, which acts as  prius .  Therefore "what is as it appears" (δοκιμῶς) is δόξα (what is thought, supposed, imagined) because it does not possess the objective certainty of the truth, which is instead the χρῆν εἶναι "what has always been", the postulate of δόξαι but is still other than αἱ δόξαι In the sentence"it is said that Mario is nice" the δόξα uncloses in the pronoun "they" but it is different from the prius (χρῆ

  A partir de Nietzsche, la idea de que Dios ha muerto dominó el saeculum , anticipando una idea destructiva para la Iglesia católica, cuyos resultados vemos hoy, con Bergoglio. La idea de que Dios está muerto es ciertamente una idea que surge en un clima en el que los cooperadores del Mal han ganado cada vez más terreno. Los cooperadores del Mal han modificado y manipulado la realidad del saeculum, y quienes han reflexionado sobre él han reflexionado sobre una realidad que fue creada por una fuerza, el Mal, que operaba para favorecer su ganancia de función en el saeculum en detrimento de el espíritu que conduce a Dios. Como, a día de hoy, tenemos tantas evidencias de que necesitamos reescribir la Historia, en consecuencia, hay que reconsiderar la filosofía.

  When she opened the oven to check the cooking of the pizza, a useless activity appeared to her. As useless as eating or sleeping, “So the world boils down to nothing more than this?” Was her reaction contemplating that pizza in the oven. It was a sudden insight. And it was this insight that led her to an overwhelming desire to die. She had hoped for lofty ultimate goals in her life, and now, here she was, spending her life cooking pizza and washing dishes. But was this truly the reason behind her desire to die? No, it could not. It was an explanation just a little too pat. At this further consideration, she had a clear-cut vision. The ultimate goal of life is death, it clearly marks the meaning of life. She mused. And that desire is like a sprint to shorten our agony. She went on. There was a sentiment of sanctity in that desire. A postulate to a summum bonum.

  It is a hot July night. I am sweaty, and the sheets are damp. Cool water doesn’t quench my thirst; it hardly stills the noise in my brain. You sit there next to me, Father, in spirit, and if I turn my head, I can see out the window, beyond which there is nothing except for a parking lot. Oh! How I wish the crowns of the trees would fall before my gaze. Do you know that one could yearn for a tree, Father? I remember that evening, far away, a long time ago, that almost seems as if it never happened, yet it did. I was a child, an innocent little girl, I had bled for the first time. And you, you were the one sitting next to me, not Mother. You held my hands up in front of my eyes and kissed them many times, reassuring me that nothing was wrong, nothing was hurting me. Just nature, a nature called woman. You taught me to understand what that nature was, which thereafter I’ve often tried to ignore. You buried your hands in the warm hair of your child, once, Father, and then agai

  Everything I have done thus far I call it living in a jar. Nature made me shy. Why am I what am I? The nearest sufferer flared me up a fire. A little riddle - torched me in the middle.

  Lithuanian is a language that impressively maintains archaic features. I have already dealt with some evident correspondences between Sanskrit and Lithuanian  HERE and HERE . This time I want to deal with a verbal structure. The verb ieškoti  "to look (for), search (after, for); seek (after)" Lithuanian ieškoti  has a parallel in Sanskrit इच्छति icchati "to desire". which is part of the  Indo-European verbs in - sḱ. as in Ancient Greek - σκω or lat. - scō (Manfred Mayrhofer Sanskrit Grammatik p. 67). Not only are the two languages ​​close structurally but also in meaning they preserve this closeness. In fact, the Lithuanian dictionary LKZ explains the meaning of ieškoti with rūpintis rasti pamestą ar dingusį daiktą; norėti rasti, gauti reikalingą daiktą "take care of finding a lost or missing item; to want to find, get the thing you need" which is revealing of how the original sense of the verb has remained impregnated in the idea of ​​ ieškoti.