Praise The Lord My Soul.

 

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Rabbinic Jerusalem.

Rabbinic Jerusalem.

Praise the Lord my soul. Praise the Lord my soul and forget not all His benefits who forgives all your sins and kills all your diseases. Who redeems your life from pain and crowns you with love and compassion who satisfies your desire with names so that you renew your life. Praise the Lord my soul and forget not all His benefits.

 

And He Will Raise You Up On Eagle’s Wings….Prophet Isaiah 40:31. The Holy Bible.

eagles1

Glorious Synagogue

Glorious Synagogue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[audio https://moralupbringing.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/01-07-on-eagles-wings2.mp3]

Lyrics:You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,Who abide in His shadow for life,Say to the Lord, “My Refuge,My Rock in Whom I trust.” And He will raise you up on eagle’s wings,Bear you on the breath of dawn,Make you to shine like the sun,And hold you in the palm of His Hand.The snare of the fowler will never capture you,And famine will bring you no fear;Under His Wings your refuge,His faithfulness your shield.You need not fear the terror of the night,Nor the arrow that flies by day,Though thousands fall about you,Near you it shall not come.For to His angels He’s given a command,To guard you in all of your ways,Upon their hands they will bear you up, Lest you dash your foot against a stone. And hold you in the palm of His Hand .

Rabbinic Jerusalem.

Rabbinic Jerusalem.

 

 

Measure for Measure. William Shakespeare. Act II.

measureformeasureMeasure for Measure. Act II. SCENE:  

A hall In ANGELO’s house. ANGELO, ESCALUS, and a Justice, Provost, Officers, and other Attendants.

ANGELO 

We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch and not their terror.

ESCALUS 

Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas, this gentleman Whom I would save, had a most noble father! Let but your honour know, Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue, That, in the working of your own affections, Had time cohered with place or place with wishing, Or that the resolute acting of your blood Could have attain’d the effect of your own purpose, Whether you had not sometime in your life Err’d in this point which now you censure him, And pull’d the law upon you.

ANGELO

‘Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall. I not deny, The jury, passing on the prisoner’s life, May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try. What’s open made to justice, That justice seizes: what know the laws That thieves do pass on thieves? ‘Tis very pregnant, The jewel that we find, we stoop and take’t Because we see it; but what we do not see We tread upon, and never think of it. You may not so extenuate his offence For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, When I, that censure him, do so offend, Let mine own judgment pattern out my death, And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die.

ESCALUS

Be it as your wisdom will. ANGELO Where is the provost? Provost Here, if it like your honour.

ANGELO

See that Claudio Be executed by nine to-morrow morning: Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared; For that’s the utmost of his pilgrimage.

ESCALUS

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.

Rafta Rafta Woh Meri…My Secret Love. Mehdi Hasan, Vocalist. Ghazal or Lyric. Poet Tasleem Fazli, 1982.

Pilgrimage to God.

Pilgrimage to God.

 

Eis husn ki raaniyan. The empire of HIS beauty.

The empire of HIS beauty.

 

Gandhi and his revolutionary.

Gandhi and his revolutionary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Raftha raftha woh meri hasthi ka saamaan ho gaye,
Subtly and gradually, God became the reason for my existence.

Pehlay jaan, phir jaan-e-jaan, phir jaan-e-jaana ho gaye
First my life, then the love of my life, finally our love became complete.

Din-b-din bardthi gehin eis husn ki raaniyaan.
Day by day, my love’s beautiful empire increased.

Pehlay Gul, phir gul-badan, phir gul-badamaan ho gaye
First the love was like a fragrance after which it transformed into a flower then finally blossoming into a rose.

Aap tho nazdeek say nazdeek-thar aathay gaye
You kept coming closer and closer to me. And being close was enough for intimacy.

Pehlay dil, phir dilruba, phir dil kay mehmaan ho gaye
First my heart, then my precious love and finally a permanent guest in my heart.

Raftha raftha woh meri hasti ka saamaan ho gaye
Subtly and gradually, God became my existence.

Pyar jab Hadd se badha saare Taqaloof mitth gaye
When love transcended its boundaries, all unknowing was erased.

Aap se phir thum huay phir thu ka unwaan hogaye
First we were formal informal and finally one.

MK Gandhi on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. God as truth.

Children, Krakow, Poland, German Occupation.

Children, Krakow, Poland, German Occupation.

Satyagraha  and Germany as redemptive message our one common morality.

Gandhi and his riot.

Gandhi revolutionary.

Albert Einstein so beautifully wrote; A leader of his people, unsupported by any outward authority: a politician whose success rests not upon craft nor the mastery of technical devices, but simply on the convincing power of his personality; a victorious fighter who always scorned the use of force; a man of wisdom and humility, armed with resolve and inflexible consistency, who had devoted all his strength to the uplifting of his people and the betterment of their lot; a man who had confronted the brutality of Europe with the dignity of the simple human being, and thus at all times risen superior. Generations to come, it may be, will scarce believe that such a one as this ever in flesh and blood walked on this earth.  His devotion to truth is an important and profound lesson for all of humanity.

“But for me, truth is the sovereign principle, which included numerous other principles. This truth is not only truthfulness in word, but truthfulness in thought also, and not only the relative truth of our conception, but the Absolute Truth, the Eternal Principle, that is God. There are innumerable definitions of God, because His manifestations are innumerable. They overwhelm me with wonder and awe and for a moment stun me. But I worship God as Truth only. I have not yet found Him, but I am seeking after Him. I am prepared to sacrifice the things dearest to me in pursuit of this quest. Even if the sacrifice demanded be my very life, I hope I may be prepared to give it. But as long as I have not realised this Absolute Truth, so long must I hold by the relative truth as I have conceived it. (Mahatma Mohandas Gandhi.) What I want to achieve – what I have been striving and pining to achieve these thirty years – is self-realisation, to see God face to face, to attain moksa (liberation). I live and move and have my being in pursuit of that goal. All that I do by way of speaking and writing, and all my ventures in the political field, are directed to this same end. (Mahatma Gandhi.)”

Man is not at peace with himself until he has become like unto God. The endeavor to reach this state is the supreme, the only ambition worth having. And this is self-realisation. This self-realisation is the subject of the Gita, as it is of all scriptures… to be a real devotee is to realise oneself. Self-realisation is not something apart.

I am an Advaitist and yet I can support Dvaitism (dualism). The world is changing every moment, and is therefore unreal, it has no permanent existence. But though it is constantly changing, it has something about it which persists and it is therefore to that extent real .. Joy or what men call happiness may be, as it really is, a dream in a fleeting and transitory world … But we cannot dismiss the suffering of our fellow creatures as unreal and thereby provide a moral alibi for ourselves. Even dreams are true while they last and to the sufferer his suffering is a grim reality.

All our philosophy is dry as dust if it is not immediately translated into some act of living service. I only knew God as Truth.

Dhe thora amay, deliver me beloved. Song by Rabindranath Tagore, Nobel Laureate. Jayati Chakravorty, vocalist. Raag Bhairavi.

Lady of Shalott

Lady of Shalott censored.

The speech of the Lord.

The speech of the Lord.

Dhē thōrā āmāẏ nūthono korē dhē nūthono ābhoroṇē..Hēmonthēro obhishompāthē riktho kiñchono kānonobhūmi,Boshonthē hōk dain’yabimōchono nobo lāboṇyodhonē. Śhūn’yo śhokhā lojjā bhulē jāk pollobo-ābhoroṇē..Bājuk prēmer māẏāmonthrē Pulokitho prāṇēro bīṇājonthrē Chiroshundorē obhibondona. Ānondhochoñcholo nr̥thyo oṅgē oṅgē bohē jak hillōlē hillōlē, Joubono pākh shom’man bañchithoshom’milonē. Dhe thora amay nuthono kore dhe nuthono abhorone.

Deliver me today in your might.  Autumn insulted is envious of spring whose glory undiminished covers the earth. Listen my friend forget your shame. Fill life with purpose. Hear the songs that re-create love’s belief.  They fill the soul that is always beautiful, holy which the dancing waves bathe. The youth gathers bounty in front of the world. Deliver me today in your might.

Sabarmati Ashram. MK Gandhi.

Sabarmathi Ashram. MK Gandhi.

Gandhi on rioting. Vaishnava Jana tho thene kahiye je. Vaishnav (devotees of Vishnu.)

Gandhi and his riot.

Gandhi and his riot.

Narsinh Mehta, writer of Gandhi's favorite hymn to all humankind.

Narsinh Mehta, writer of Gandhi’s favorite hymn to humankind.

Image of a vaishnavite. Devotee of Lord Vishnu.

Image of the Lord.

Vaishnav (devotees of Vishnu) people are those who,
Feel the pain of others, Help those who are in misery,
But never let ego or conceit enter their mind.

Vaishnavs, respect the entire world, Do not censure anyone, Keep their words, actions and thoughts pure, The mother of such a soul is blessed.

Vaishnav see all equally, renounce greed and avarice, View others as extensions of one family, Their tongue might get tired, but they will never speak falsehood, Their hands would never touch the wealth of another.

Vaishnavs do not succumb to worldly attachments, They are detached from worldly pleasures, They are enticed by the name of God (Shri Ram), All holy sites of pilgrimage are embodied within them.

Vaishnavs encompasses the absence of greed and deceit, They have renounced all types of lust and anger, The author of this poem (Narsi) would be grateful to meet such a soul whose virtue liberates lineage.

The Lady of Shalott 1842 AD. Alfred Lord Tennyson English Poet.

  lady of shalott1camelotOn either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro’ the field the road runs by
To many-tower’d Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro’ the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.By the margin, willow-veil’d
Slide the heavy barges trail’d
By slow horses; and unhail’d
The shallop flitteth silken-sail’d
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower’d Camelot.
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers “‘Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott.”There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.And moving thro’ a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower’d Camelot;
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often thro’ the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
“I am half-sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A redcross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter’d free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle-bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon’d baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn’d like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro’ the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;
On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow’d
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash’d into the crystal mirror,
“Tirra lirra,” by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro’ the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume:
She look’d down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale-yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower’d Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river’s dim expanse—
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance—
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right—
The leaves upon her falling light—
Thro’ the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken’d wholly,
Turn’d to tower’d Camelot;
For ere she reach’d upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
A corse between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross’d themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”

ladyofshallot2