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Showing posts from July, 2026

Tu

  Mai passerai - hai lasciato la tua storia Su quella spiaggia che sempre verrai E mi riderai come tu solo fare potevi Tu unica forma - tu unico tu irripetibile Nel sole stavi - ieri e oggi così mi ridevi. ------------------- Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

On Beauty and Carnal Desire: Sappho’s Fragment 31

  Fragment 31 of Sappho shows how beauty can be a source of suffering. In this fragment, beauty does not generate desire but pain, dizziness, and palpitations. A man of godlike beauty does not generate carnal desire because he represents perfection, and perfection generates fear, confusion, and the other states that Sappho describes in Fragment 31. Sappho does not speak of carnal desire or sexual excitement, but of physical and spiritual suffering. The imperfect, the monstrous, the deformed, the uncommon, and the sinful — understood as the highest form of spiritual imperfection — generate the desire of the flesh. Fragment 31. He seems to me the equal of the gods, that man who sits facing you, and, close beside you, listens and speaks sweetly, and laughs with irresistible charm. Indeed, that has set my heart trembling within my breast. For whenever I look upon you, even for a moment, my voice no longer comes to me; my tongue is broken; at once a subtle fire runs beneath my sk...

De la verdad

  La verdad debe ser desvelada; no es evidente por sí misma, pues, como dice Heráclito, «la naturaleza ama ocultarse». Descubrir la verdad requiere una adaequatio entre quien la busca y el kairós (καιρός), el momento oportuno. En otras palabras, la verdad solo se revela cuando ella misma consiente en salir a la luz. χρόνῳ δὲ παντάπασιν ὀλίγῳ διακαλύπτεται τὰ τοιαῦτα στρατηγήματα, τῆς φύσεως οὐκ ἀεὶ κρύπτεσθαι φιλούσης ἀλλ᾽, ὁπόταν καιρὸς ᾖ, τὸ ἴδιον κάλλος ἀναφαινούσης ἀηττήτοις δυνάμεσιν [Filón de Alejandría, De Specialibus Legibus IV, 51 (V, p. 220 Cohn)] «Pero, al cabo de muy poco tiempo, tales estratagemas quedan completamente al descubierto, pues la naturaleza no ama permanecer siempre oculta; antes bien, cuando llega el momento oportuno (καιρός), manifiesta su propia belleza mediante fuerzas irresistibles.» Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

On Uncovering the Truth

  Truth must be uncovered; it is not self-evident, for, as Heraclitus says, "nature loves to hide." Uncovering the truth requires an adaequatio between the seeker and the καιρὸς, the opportune moment. In other words, truth reveals herself only when she consents to come to light. χρόνῳ δὲ παντάπασιν ὀλίγῳ διακαλύπτεται τὰ τοιαῦτα στρατηγήματα, τῆς φύσεως οὐκ ἀεὶ κρύπτεσθαι φιλούσης ἀλλ᾽, ὁπόταν καιρὸς ᾖ, τὸ ἴδιον κάλλος ἀναφαινούσης ἀηττήτοις δυνάμεσιν [Philo of Alexandria, De Specialibus Legibus IV, 51 (V, p. 220 Cohn)] "But after a very short time such stratagems are uncovered, since nature does not always love to remain hidden, but, whenever the proper moment arrives, reveals its own beauty by irresistible powers" Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

Gli umili sono mai stati giovani e immortali?

  Io non volevo invecchiare e in verità Ho fatto l'impossibile per l'immortalità. Per l'eterna giovinezza a cui ho creduto Di morire un giorno ho sempre negato. E ho pensato che il tempo fosse fermo Che quello stato non avrei cambiato. Per tanti anni ho proceduto da infermo Un male incurabile di nome arroganza. L'arroganza di vivere solo d'ormoni È un male vero e sincero, mi chiedo? La natura d'esser giovani ha ragioni Che crescono e vanno per volizioni. Nell'arroganza vive il suo discrimine vecchio e nuovo, mortale e immortale. Ma all'eterno essere umile, che vale? Senza l'insolenza avrebbe lui limine? Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

What Is Nostalgia?

  Homesickness, or nostalgia, is a longing not so much for people as for the natural landscape of one's homeland: its forests, mountains and hills, rivers, lakes, the blue of its skies, its sunsets—in short, for the whole environment with which a person has grown together, and on leaving which he feels that he has left behind a part of himself. (Antanas Maceina) Below is a poem by Salomėja Nėri s, one of Lithuania's most celebrated poets, who suffered more than perhaps any other Lithuanian intellectual from being separated from her homeland and, above all, from being accused of treason (rightly or wrongly, that is not for us to judge). Bloodied and plundered, You stand before my eyes... I would walk a hundred miles on foot Until I saw you living once again. Whether orchards there are blossoming, Or fruit hangs heavy on the bough, Or yellow leaves are falling, I shall return to you on my knees Through rain, hard frost, and winter's cold... Like the grass that grows in...

Kas yra nostalgija?

  Tėvynės pasiilgimas, arba nostalgija, yra pasiilgimas ne tiek žmonių, kiek tėvynės gamtos: miškų, kalnų bei kalnelių, upių, ežerų, dangaus mėlynės, saulėlydžio, apskritai visos aplinkos, su kuria žmogus yra suaugęs ir kurią palikęs jis jaučiasi palikęs savo paties dalį.  (Antanas Maceina) Sukruvinta ir apiplėšta Ji stovi man akyse… Šimtus aš mylių eisiu pėsčia, Kol gyvą pamatysiu. Žydės ten sodai, svyros vaisiai, Ar lapai kris pageltę, Aš keliais į tave pareisiu Per lietų, gruodą, šaltį… Mane – kaip lauko žolę – girdė Gimtosios žemės syvai… Aš saugojau tau savo širdį – Žėruojančią ir gyvą. Nepardaviau tavęs aš niekad, Neišdaviau, mieloji! Audra praūžia, miškas lieka… Širdis gi nemeluoja. (Salomėja Nėris) Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

Meditation on Death

  " Lebennach dem Tode - Wer Gründe hat, an sein 'Leben nach dem Tode' zu glauben,  muß seinen 'Tod' während seines Lebens ertragen lernen" *** (Friedrich Nietzsche Fragmente 1[8]) When we speak of death, we have in mind two kinds of death: death in life and death after life. While we are alive, we avoid speaking or thinking about death, as though it were not part of life; we live as if we were immortal. Death after life—as far as we can conceive of it while still alive—can only be imagined, and we begin to imagine it when we start to feel old, when death draws near. Then reality begins to seem unreal, and everything we have experienced up to that point loses its tangibility, its coherence, and its shape. We begin to realise that the life in which we believed no longer exists—indeed, that it never truly existed—and that the only genuine reality is death: the everlasting end of all illusions, all hopes, and everything, great or small, that we have managed to ...

Meditacija apie mirtį

  " Lebennach dem Tode - Wer Gründe hat, an sein 'Leben nach dem Tode' zu glauben,  muß seinen 'Tod' während seines Lebens ertragen lernen" *** (Friedrich Nietzsche Fragmente 1[8]) Kalbėdami apie mirtį, turime omenyje dvi jos rūšis: mirtį gyvenime ir mirtį po gyvenimo. Kol esame gyvi, vengiame kalbėti ir galvoti apie mirtį, tarsi ji nebūtų gyvenimo dalis; gyvename taip, lyg būtume nemirtingi. Mirtį po gyvenimo – tokią, kokią dar gyvi galime įsivaizduoti – galime tik įsivaizduoti, ir pradedame tai daryti tuomet, kai pradedame senti, kai mirtis artėja. Tuomet tikrovė ima atrodyti netikra, o visa, ką iki tol patyrėme, praranda savo apčiuopiamumą, nuoseklumą ir pavidalą. Pradedame suprasti, kad gyvenimas, kuriuo tikėjome, nebeegzistuoja – iš tiesų jis niekada ir neegzistavo – ir kad vienintelė tikroji tikrovė yra mirtis: amžina visų iliuzijų, visų vilčių ir visko – didelio ar mažo – ką mums pavyko pasiekti per mums skirtą laiką, pabaiga. Taip mes išmokstame mirt...

Essere o non essere - il tradimento della realtà

  Às vezes, em dias de luz perfeita e exacta, Em que as coisas têm toda a realidade que podem ter "A volte, nelle giornate di luce perfetta e precisa, Ecco che le cose hanno tutta la realtà che possono avere" (Fernando Pessoa) La tua presenza - leggera sembravi E costante andavi tutta la vita. Eterna promessa a me passavi. Non era quella la terra smarrita La terra di mezzo di ora data Era l'unica terra e la mia vita. E lí radicati a noi fissata Tu la carne insegnavi e lo spirito Modellavi di me tu dedicata. Una madre sperimenta il suo debito Al figlio dà vita di stesso sangue Va al presente delle cose suo credito. Ma la memoria fa tempo esangue Si scolora come mai avvenuto Tutto quello hai creduto poi langue. ---------- Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp: De Unamuno

Padre - mai patrigno

  Mi chiedo se un Dio davvero piccino Come l'essere umano così sia Da chinarsi a sua altezza meschino. La miseria dell'uomo nella via Di sua vita molte bassezze chiede Che per un Dio sarebbe sol follia. Un Dio per uffici e riti cede? Pare. In tutta la storia irretito Vedo nella liturgia si concede. Non da altro modo è appetito. Ma davvero un Dio buono è quello Che per darsi deve venir circuito? Rispondere né so e neppure bello Dire che sia quel Dio a noi maligno. Un Dio è di amore a sé sacello. Dio, io spero tu a me sempre benigno E nel dubbio ogni giorno straziato Ti imploro padre - non mai patrigno. Telegram: De Unamuno Whatsapp:  De Unamuno

On Haecceitas Again

  I believe there is a single transversal category embracing all those subsistentiae of which Richard of St. Victor writes [ HERE ]: subsistentiae quae sunt illae substantiae quas participare non potest aliquid aliud - those subsistentiae of which each is that very substance in which no other being can participate. It is the category expressed by every human being on this planet throughout his or her life: “Here I am. I exist. Me too.”  The following short story beautifully exemplifies this: Nymphomaniac "Ηθος Ανθρωπῳ Δαιμων" A man's character is his demon. (Heraclitus) Men call me a whore. They say I'm a whore. How simple men's minds are. To them, a woman is either a mother, a sister, a saint, or a whore. I'm twenty-five years old. I've been with about two hundred men. I made love for the first time when I was eighteen. I don't remember all their faces. I don't remember all their names. I remember their smell, though. Their bodies. The pleasur...

The Elect and the Common People

  In my opinion, the philosophy of Nāgārjuna and that of Candrakīrti, his greatest commentator, offer profound help in understanding the true nature of the world in which we live today. एतच्च दुःखमार्या एव विपर्यासप्रहाणे सति दुःखमिति संजानते etac ca duḥkham āryā eva viparyāsaprahāṇe sati duḥkham iti saṃjānate "Only the Noble Ones recognise this as suffering once false views have been abandoned." People who do not question the world do not suffer. Et scientia auget dolorem : καὶ ὁ προστιθεὶς γνῶσιν προσθήσει ἄλγημα — "He who increases knowledge increases pain" (Eccl. 1:18). न अनार्याः विपर्यासानुगतत्वात् यथादर्शनं च पदार्थस्वभावव्यवस्थानात् nānāryāḥ viparyāsānugatattvāt yathādarśanaṃ ca padārthasvabhāvavyavasthānāt "Common people do not recognise suffering as suffering because they are governed by cognitive distortions ( viparyāsa ), lack the vision of things as they truly are ( yathādarśanam ), and take the intrinsic nature of phenomena ( padārtha-svabh...

Can a deceased person be influenced by good or bad events that happen to their loved ones during their lifetime?

This is a question Aristotle asked himself. It is clear that Aristotle also recognised the possibility that the dead are in some way affected by what happens to their loved ones among the living. If Aristotle remains ambiguous on this point and does not give a clear answer, Dante Alighieri shows how this connection is very much alive. Let us consider the episode of Cavalcante de’ Cavalcanti in Inferno X, 61–72, where one can clearly see how the fate of the son influences the happiness of the father: E io a lui: «Da me stesso non vegno: colui ch’attende là, per qui mi mena forse cui Guido vostro ebbe a disdegno». And I to him: “I come not of myself: he who waits yonder leads me through this place, perhaps the one whom your Guido held in scorn.” Le sue parole e ’l modo de la pena m’avean di costui già letto il nome; però fu la risposta così piena. His words and the manner of his punishment had already revealed to me his name; therefore my answer was so complete. Di subito drizza...

I segni sono il senso della vita

  Sento che già non appartengo  Più al mondo - solo nella rabbia A lui ancor mi vendo - per il resto Come se non fossi. Tutti i volti Del mio viaggio lungo non sono qua e lontano a un dove senza Luogo trasparente mi consegno E a qualche ultimo istinto d'uomo Per dire "Ehi! Ancora sono. Vivo!" Li ho persi tutti quelli in cui credevo Solo ombre nomi e memorie vacillano Attorno in una folla indistinta vanno Come sudicio maleodorante, porto Loro nel naso nella pelle e fra le gambe Nelle mani nei capelli e nel corpo ovunque. Se Dio non fosse, sarebbe grande L'inganno e disperazione un gorgo senza segni che notte ovunque spande.