Quiet days i

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Photo at Pixabay

Winter cold and wearying wheezy chest seem to have become annual guests. I smile as I’m reminded of Rumi’s invitation to welcome all. A bit fed-up on the one hand, I’m thankful for time to meditate deeply on the other – spiralling into the light.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Dobrodošli u Hrvatsku

The wind in my wheels has brought me to Croatia for the first time, and after only a few hours I’m hoping it won’t be the last. I’ve heard “Dobrodošli u Hrvatsku” – “Welcome to Croatia” more times than I can count, and what I’ve seen of the Istrian peninsula and of the ancient city of Poreč thus far is unimaginably beautiful. Warm and friendly people, fabulous ice cream wherever one turns, and the good fortune of having unknowingly walked into a four day Mediterranean Folk Festival (YouTube) – Zlatna Sopela. Talk about pinching oneself!

Moji Sni

Čudili se, što još hrvatski znadem, premda sam već toliko godina od kuće. — Pa kako to, da nisi zaboravio?

— A kako bili?! Ako i ne govorim hrvatski, to ipak hrvatski snivam, — a snivam vrlo testo …

Bog zna, hoće li se ti moji hrvatski sni ikad obistiniti!?

My dreams

They were surprised that I still know Croatian though now so many years absent from my native land. — How is it that you didn’t forget?

— How could I? Though I don’t converse in Croatian, yet I dream in Croatian, — and I dream very often …

God knows whether these Croatian dreams will ever become reality.

Fran Mažuranić
1859-1928