men/ and poisonous ritual,/ when the seven brothers fled south/ disturbing the hornbills in their summer nests… There are no records./The river was the green and white vein of our lives/linking new terrain,/ in a lust for land brother and brother/ claiming the sunrise and the sunset,/ in a dispute settled by the rocks/ engraved in a vanished land./1 will remember then the fading voices/ of deaf women framing the root of light/in the , first stories to the children of the tribe. Remember the river’s voice:/ Where else could we be born/ where else could we belong/if not of memory/ divining life and form out of silence, Water and mist,/ the twin gods, water and mist,/ and the cloud woman always calling/ from the sanctuary of the gorge/ Remember, because nothing is ended/ but it is changed. And memory is a hanging shape/ showing with these fading possessions/inlands beyond the great ocean/ that all is changed but not ended. And in the villages the silent hill men still await/the long promised letters, id the meaning of words.” MAN’YOSHU –“My Lord, boundless as The sun and moon Lighting heaven and earth; How then can I have concerns About what is to be?” MANAVADHARMA –“Manvantaras are countless, as are also the creations and destructions; the Supreme Being does this again and again as if in sport.” MANDELSTAM –“…Yet nature once a year Is bathed in lengthiness as intiomnetic metres…” MANDELSTAM –“…Yet nature once a year Is bathed in lengthiness as in Homeric metres Like a caesura that day yawns…” MANGAT –“When your mind is tired of body comforts, it will (then be able to) taste the real joy of Atman. When it merges with the Atman, you experience the highest state of bliss. This highest state is the true
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