It seems to me that there are influences of the poem "Dark Night of the Soul" by San Juan de la Cruiz on Leonards version of "Undertow".
That mystical undercurrent of moving out through the melancholy of ones own soul through the dark night and into some form of union with the infinite.
"On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings.....
...without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart....
....Oh night that guided me...
I often find myself reflecting on the poetry of San Juan and Solomon, when I listen to Leonard.
Dark Night of the Soul and Undertow
Dark Night of the Soul and Undertow
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Absolutely. Leonard Cohen's writings are full of all kinds of mystical influences. I love the idea of paradox in the spiritual life - and St John of the Cross really seems to specialize in it, as shown in the quotation at the top of my website http://www.loversofbeauty.com
I'm convinced that our true inheritance is to become one with Love - how to achieve that may mean something different for everyone (each person being unique), but surely it is the highest ambition we could have?
I'm convinced that our true inheritance is to become one with Love - how to achieve that may mean something different for everyone (each person being unique), but surely it is the highest ambition we could have?
Dubman,
If you are into San Juan de la Cruiz, you may like these poems I wrote on his perspective on love/Love.
Leonard would probably nod.
They may seem a bit long, but as you know, Juan writes a whole book about one poem, so I have attempted to do the same below.
The bed of Shiloh.
( reflections on San Juan and his poem ‘Living Flame of Love’ ).
God is asleep
in the substance of my Soul !
how fitting
for my mind
to seek this resting place
by moving towards silence
by living the tranquil life.
god is asleep
in the substance of my soul...
how lucky !
how happy !
the mind
who finds his lady, soul,
asleep in her bed
of shiloh
with her lover, god.
god and his lover
my soul
are snoozing
in a tender slumber
-loving silence
this lazy union
she wakes to his breathing
and phones me
-mind
gossiping
crying, laughing
and passes on what she can
via the limits of this connection
she tells of her waking
on the whispering pillow
in the pulsing Shiloh
she knows his quivering touch !
He awoke in my substance...
and my heart-fluttering eager bride
juxtaposed of god and mind
-tastes, touches, visualises
scents
with her back to me
and all I can do
( all my mind can do )
is hear about it...
mind cannot experience god
that is souls pleasure.
she mates with him
in holy communion
-and gossips to me
and as she falls...
into
my Shaitan my satan
( my rational mind )
she is abused and beaten
by human reason/judgement
and cast from her para-dise
her eden of shiloh.
god lays slumbering
in the delicate substance
of sweet soul
her dreamy eye-lids lift- lightly
glancing
at the sound of the knocking-door !
the knock of faith
the tap-tapping of wonder
the wedged door-jam of hope
the sledge-hammer of charity
( some never knock
some never wonder
some never seek
-some never find...)
god is asleep in the substance of soul
god is slumbering with his lover in shiloh
-tranquil-moving-waters of silence
he whispers sweet-nothings
to the listening imagination
delicacy
timidity of imagination
is the lost key to this kingdom
thrown
cast away by the rational deductive mind
( that shaitan that Lucifer that lesser-light )
Mind
can know of god
can chase and hunt him
can knock
can peek
can turn the key in the kingdom-door
-but only soul sleeps with him...
only soul wakes to him...
the quest ?
the quest-aeon ?
the question ?
the questaeon...
- for mind to seek soul
- and to listen
- to her gossip and her stammerings.
she is the swimmer
the fish
in the substance of the mind
she surfs on the conscious
deep-sea-dives the unconscious
she has gills for that world
the silently whispering waters of shiloh...
percolated stammerings of the Myst...
to myth
half-awake in a dreamy love affair
mind must believe that fish can be hooked
mind must go fishing
must walk the calm walk on the stormy waters
of consciousness and life
must dolphin-hunt the seas of soul
mind must go fishing for his sweet-heart
soul
in the unconscious of self.
god is sleeping with my sweet-heart !!
she
my two-timing slumberer
kissing me after sleeping with him !
that voyer !
that faithless lover of two
-mind and god
him all night
me all day ?
and she sings “ I am in him, he is in me, we are one ”
god is asleep in my soul
her eye-lids flutter at my calling
imagination
and in her waking
I become god – a holy communion of One
I become god – by participation.
on souls hovering
winged in Trinity
humming in harmony one song...
... god is awake in the substance of my soul
... my soul wakes in the substance of god
how fitting for mind to seek
this resting place,
Shiloh...
CRUIZ`N WITH RAMA AND HER
(Re-cognition of the Destination of the ways of love
of the mystics, San Juan de la Cruiz and some Hindu
Sculptor genius)
By burning participation
In some gaze
That didn’t see
Some dark night from her eyes
Filled me.
“My soul is lost in something
Clinging,
Roaring ‘god in God’”
The little friar stammers
and I applaud!
I too was transposed
While my doe-struck hart grazed
I leapt the secret ladder
In that Rama/Sita gaze,
De-cantered the Cloud Unknowing
Drowned in spiced wine
Rolled in the womb of God
Drunk sublime,
Staggering, stammering
Some ancient lost
I found
In that tranquil night of samadhi
All around…
Through her dark eyes of love
Through those windows
To the mystic room,
Where consciousness is timelessness
And bride and guests and Groom.
My wounded heart grazed
Clinging!
And she who fed me there
Gave her all
Unknowingly
In that Rama/Sita stare.
Mat James.
If you are into San Juan de la Cruiz, you may like these poems I wrote on his perspective on love/Love.
Leonard would probably nod.
They may seem a bit long, but as you know, Juan writes a whole book about one poem, so I have attempted to do the same below.
The bed of Shiloh.
( reflections on San Juan and his poem ‘Living Flame of Love’ ).
God is asleep
in the substance of my Soul !
how fitting
for my mind
to seek this resting place
by moving towards silence
by living the tranquil life.
god is asleep
in the substance of my soul...
how lucky !
how happy !
the mind
who finds his lady, soul,
asleep in her bed
of shiloh
with her lover, god.
god and his lover
my soul
are snoozing
in a tender slumber
-loving silence
this lazy union
she wakes to his breathing
and phones me
-mind
gossiping
crying, laughing
and passes on what she can
via the limits of this connection
she tells of her waking
on the whispering pillow
in the pulsing Shiloh
she knows his quivering touch !
He awoke in my substance...
and my heart-fluttering eager bride
juxtaposed of god and mind
-tastes, touches, visualises
scents
with her back to me
and all I can do
( all my mind can do )
is hear about it...
mind cannot experience god
that is souls pleasure.
she mates with him
in holy communion
-and gossips to me
and as she falls...
into
my Shaitan my satan
( my rational mind )
she is abused and beaten
by human reason/judgement
and cast from her para-dise
her eden of shiloh.
god lays slumbering
in the delicate substance
of sweet soul
her dreamy eye-lids lift- lightly
glancing
at the sound of the knocking-door !
the knock of faith
the tap-tapping of wonder
the wedged door-jam of hope
the sledge-hammer of charity
( some never knock
some never wonder
some never seek
-some never find...)
god is asleep in the substance of soul
god is slumbering with his lover in shiloh
-tranquil-moving-waters of silence
he whispers sweet-nothings
to the listening imagination
delicacy
timidity of imagination
is the lost key to this kingdom
thrown
cast away by the rational deductive mind
( that shaitan that Lucifer that lesser-light )
Mind
can know of god
can chase and hunt him
can knock
can peek
can turn the key in the kingdom-door
-but only soul sleeps with him...
only soul wakes to him...
the quest ?
the quest-aeon ?
the question ?
the questaeon...
- for mind to seek soul
- and to listen
- to her gossip and her stammerings.
she is the swimmer
the fish
in the substance of the mind
she surfs on the conscious
deep-sea-dives the unconscious
she has gills for that world
the silently whispering waters of shiloh...
percolated stammerings of the Myst...
to myth
half-awake in a dreamy love affair
mind must believe that fish can be hooked
mind must go fishing
must walk the calm walk on the stormy waters
of consciousness and life
must dolphin-hunt the seas of soul
mind must go fishing for his sweet-heart
soul
in the unconscious of self.
god is sleeping with my sweet-heart !!
she
my two-timing slumberer
kissing me after sleeping with him !
that voyer !
that faithless lover of two
-mind and god
him all night
me all day ?
and she sings “ I am in him, he is in me, we are one ”
god is asleep in my soul
her eye-lids flutter at my calling
imagination
and in her waking
I become god – a holy communion of One
I become god – by participation.
on souls hovering
winged in Trinity
humming in harmony one song...
... god is awake in the substance of my soul
... my soul wakes in the substance of god
how fitting for mind to seek
this resting place,
Shiloh...
CRUIZ`N WITH RAMA AND HER
(Re-cognition of the Destination of the ways of love
of the mystics, San Juan de la Cruiz and some Hindu
Sculptor genius)
By burning participation
In some gaze
That didn’t see
Some dark night from her eyes
Filled me.
“My soul is lost in something
Clinging,
Roaring ‘god in God’”
The little friar stammers
and I applaud!
I too was transposed
While my doe-struck hart grazed
I leapt the secret ladder
In that Rama/Sita gaze,
De-cantered the Cloud Unknowing
Drowned in spiced wine
Rolled in the womb of God
Drunk sublime,
Staggering, stammering
Some ancient lost
I found
In that tranquil night of samadhi
All around…
Through her dark eyes of love
Through those windows
To the mystic room,
Where consciousness is timelessness
And bride and guests and Groom.
My wounded heart grazed
Clinging!
And she who fed me there
Gave her all
Unknowingly
In that Rama/Sita stare.
Mat James.
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Dear friends:
it is not San Juan de la Cruiz, it is San Juan de la Cruz; as I am Spanish, we have study his poems at school; you show an interesting relation with Cohen; it will be also interesting to think about other mystics such as Böhme, Eckhart or Angelus Silesius, who was also a poet... well, all mystics were poets, and there were poets that were mystics without God (Celan, Valéry, etc)
Cheers,
Antonio
it is not San Juan de la Cruiz, it is San Juan de la Cruz; as I am Spanish, we have study his poems at school; you show an interesting relation with Cohen; it will be also interesting to think about other mystics such as Böhme, Eckhart or Angelus Silesius, who was also a poet... well, all mystics were poets, and there were poets that were mystics without God (Celan, Valéry, etc)
Cheers,
Antonio
-
Tchocolatl
- Posts: 3805
- Joined: Wed Apr 02, 2003 10:07 pm
It is not Cruiz it is Cruz and it is not Leonards it is Leonard and it is not influences it is influenza.
Here lies the ocean of peace,
Helmsman, launch the boat.
You will always be the comrade.
Take, O take him to your heart.
In the path of the Infinite
will shine the "Dhruba-tara". (North Star)
Giver of freedom, your forgiveness, your mercy
will be wealth inexhaustible
in the eternal journey.
May the mortal bonds perish,
May the vast universe take him in its arms,
And may he know in his fearless heart
The great unknown.
- Rabindranath Tagore
Here lies the ocean of peace,
Helmsman, launch the boat.
You will always be the comrade.
Take, O take him to your heart.
In the path of the Infinite
will shine the "Dhruba-tara". (North Star)
Giver of freedom, your forgiveness, your mercy
will be wealth inexhaustible
in the eternal journey.
May the mortal bonds perish,
May the vast universe take him in its arms,
And may he know in his fearless heart
The great unknown.
- Rabindranath Tagore
" and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star" Tagore is wonderful, Tchocolatl.
"Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!" Rabindranath. Tagore
Antonio (amigo) I haven't read Celan or Velery but they would no doubt appreciate the bit about the apparent "useless inconsequence" of our endeavours.
"My Kingdom is not of this world" someone else said.
As for my spelling errors. I will leave them for now to remind me of how imperfect I am!
"Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!" Rabindranath. Tagore
Antonio (amigo) I haven't read Celan or Velery but they would no doubt appreciate the bit about the apparent "useless inconsequence" of our endeavours.
"My Kingdom is not of this world" someone else said.
As for my spelling errors. I will leave them for now to remind me of how imperfect I am!
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
-
Tchocolatl
- Posts: 3805
- Joined: Wed Apr 02, 2003 10:07 pm
Dem, bird (on a wire) in(flu)enza. 'Can go on?
***
mat james you did seem to got my point, now. Read a love (romantic human one) poem and read another one by another poet, the subject is the same, but it is said in another manner, the colour of the skin, the eyes, the carnal love evoquated or not, in a sweet, passionate, desperate tone, etc, a story of the experience is told. It is the same for mystical poetry. As we all live the same mystical side of life many different poets "describe" the thing in their own original way.
Don't botter too much with my teasing, it is harmess.
Tagore, like his fellow yoga practionners - like Cohen also - often mixed the image of a beloved for the Beloved.
***
mat james you did seem to got my point, now. Read a love (romantic human one) poem and read another one by another poet, the subject is the same, but it is said in another manner, the colour of the skin, the eyes, the carnal love evoquated or not, in a sweet, passionate, desperate tone, etc, a story of the experience is told. It is the same for mystical poetry. As we all live the same mystical side of life many different poets "describe" the thing in their own original way.
Don't botter too much with my teasing, it is harmess.
Tagore, like his fellow yoga practionners - like Cohen also - often mixed the image of a beloved for the Beloved.
-
Tchocolatl
- Posts: 3805
- Joined: Wed Apr 02, 2003 10:07 pm
-
Tchocolatl
- Posts: 3805
- Joined: Wed Apr 02, 2003 10:07 pm
:
The dark night of the soul, meaning the complete absence of any kind of spiritual enlightenment, inspiration or consolation, is part of the process of the transformation of our lives in order to embrace the mystery of Love. St Therese also went through it in the latter years of her short life.
The night may be dark but if you just hold on with that thread of faith, everything will be revealed, you will have said your yes to the One who is calling you, inviting you to the eternal loving embrace.
The night may be dark but if you just hold on with that thread of faith, everything will be revealed, you will have said your yes to the One who is calling you, inviting you to the eternal loving embrace.