dimanche 30 juin 2013
samedi 29 juin 2013
vendredi 28 juin 2013
La mort, l'amour, la vie
-
Paul Eluard -
La mort, l’amour, la vie
J’ai cru pouvoir briser la profondeur de l’immensité
Par mon chagrin tout nu sans contact sans écho
Je me suis étendu dans ma prison aux portes vierges
Comme un mort raisonnable qui a su mourir
Un mort non couronné sinon de son néant
Je me suis étendu sur les vagues absurdes
Du poison absorbé par amour de la cendre
La solitude m’a semblé plus vive que le sang
Je voulais désunir la vie
Je voulais partager la mort avec la mort
Rendre mon cœur au vide et le vide à la vie
Tout effacer qu’il n’y ait rien ni vire ni buée
Ni rien devant ni rien derrière rien entier
J’avais éliminé le glaçon des mains jointes
J’avais éliminé l’hivernale ossature
Du voeu de vivre qui s’annule
Tu es venue le feu s’est alors ranimé
L’ombre a cédé le froid d’en bas s’est étoilé
Et la terre s’est recouverte
De ta chair claire et je me suis senti léger
Tu es venue la solitude était vaincue
J’avais un guide sur la terre je savais
Me diriger je me savais démesuré
J’avançais je gagnais de l’espace et du temps
J’allais vers toi j’allais sans fin vers la lumière
La vie avait un corps l’espoir tendait sa voile
Le sommeil ruisselait de rêves et la nuit
Promettait à l’aurore des regards confiants
Les rayons de tes bras entrouvraient le brouillard
Ta bouche était mouillée des premières rosées
Le repos ébloui remplaçait la fatigue
Et j’adorais l’amour comme à mes premiers jours.
Les champs sont labourés les usines rayonnent
Et le blé fait son nid dans une houle énorme
La moisson la vendange ont des témoins sans nombre
Rien n’est simple ni singulier
La mer est dans les yeux du ciel ou de la nuit
La forêt donne aux arbres la sécurité
Et les murs des maisons ont une peau commune
Et les routes toujours se croisent.
Les hommes sont faits pour s’entendre
Pour se comprendre pour s’aimer
Ont des enfants qui deviendront pères des hommes
Ont des enfants sans feu ni lieu
Qui réinventeront les hommes
Et la nature et leur patrie
Celle de tous les hommes
Celle de tous les temps.
La mort, l’amour, la vie
J’ai cru pouvoir briser la profondeur de l’immensité
Par mon chagrin tout nu sans contact sans écho
Je me suis étendu dans ma prison aux portes vierges
Comme un mort raisonnable qui a su mourir
Un mort non couronné sinon de son néant
Je me suis étendu sur les vagues absurdes
Du poison absorbé par amour de la cendre
La solitude m’a semblé plus vive que le sang
Je voulais désunir la vie
Je voulais partager la mort avec la mort
Rendre mon cœur au vide et le vide à la vie
Tout effacer qu’il n’y ait rien ni vire ni buée
Ni rien devant ni rien derrière rien entier
J’avais éliminé le glaçon des mains jointes
J’avais éliminé l’hivernale ossature
Du voeu de vivre qui s’annule
Tu es venue le feu s’est alors ranimé
L’ombre a cédé le froid d’en bas s’est étoilé
Et la terre s’est recouverte
De ta chair claire et je me suis senti léger
Tu es venue la solitude était vaincue
J’avais un guide sur la terre je savais
Me diriger je me savais démesuré
J’avançais je gagnais de l’espace et du temps
J’allais vers toi j’allais sans fin vers la lumière
La vie avait un corps l’espoir tendait sa voile
Le sommeil ruisselait de rêves et la nuit
Promettait à l’aurore des regards confiants
Les rayons de tes bras entrouvraient le brouillard
Ta bouche était mouillée des premières rosées
Le repos ébloui remplaçait la fatigue
Et j’adorais l’amour comme à mes premiers jours.
Les champs sont labourés les usines rayonnent
Et le blé fait son nid dans une houle énorme
La moisson la vendange ont des témoins sans nombre
Rien n’est simple ni singulier
La mer est dans les yeux du ciel ou de la nuit
La forêt donne aux arbres la sécurité
Et les murs des maisons ont une peau commune
Et les routes toujours se croisent.
Les hommes sont faits pour s’entendre
Pour se comprendre pour s’aimer
Ont des enfants qui deviendront pères des hommes
Ont des enfants sans feu ni lieu
Qui réinventeront les hommes
Et la nature et leur patrie
Celle de tous les hommes
Celle de tous les temps.
mercredi 26 juin 2013
Encore une belle histoire
Un 26 juin de plus
Et ce n'est pas n'importe quel jour
il y a 14 ans que s'en est allé mon amour
Qu'un samedi, à Paris il est parti avec Leucémie
Qu'il a laissé derrière, nous, les filles
la mer, son piano, ses livres, ses habits
son fauteuil, son perroquet, ses souffrances, ses projets
Et il est là pourtant
Si vivant
Dans les stores et les carreaux, de ses belles mains posés
dans ce coin de la chambre où il aimait tant méditer
dans les petits bonheurs que tel un petit Poucet il a su çi et là égrener
et
dans le calme qui règne en mon corps et mon coeur en raison de l'amour partagé.
Veille de St Jean
J'ai rencontré deux amies en 1992 lors d'une longue marche le long des côtes ouest de l’Irlande. J'ai rencontré Ann B. in Eniscrone dans le comté de Sligo et son amie Catriona à Ardara dans le comté du Donégal.
Depuis 21 ans nous essayons de nous réunir autour des feux de la St jean pour célébrer une amitié qui dure. Nous avons du nous contenter de la flambée du voisin car je n'avais pas eu le temps de trier les papiers de l'année !
Catriona avait apporté un saumon sauvage pêché du matin même
Et il était délicieux
surtout accompagné de la délicieuse sauce hollandaise d'Ann
Qui s'était chargée aussi de cueillir au bord de la route des brassées de pâquerettes.
Depuis 21 ans nous essayons de nous réunir autour des feux de la St jean pour célébrer une amitié qui dure. Nous avons du nous contenter de la flambée du voisin car je n'avais pas eu le temps de trier les papiers de l'année !
Catriona avait apporté un saumon sauvage pêché du matin même
Et il était délicieux
surtout accompagné de la délicieuse sauce hollandaise d'Ann
Qui s'était chargée aussi de cueillir au bord de la route des brassées de pâquerettes.
mardi 25 juin 2013
I have learn so much
I Have Learned So Much by Hafiz:
I
Have
Learned So much from God
That I can no longer
Call
Myself
A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,
a Buddhist, a Jew.
The Truth has shared so much of Itself
With me
That I can no longer call myself
A man, a woman, an angel,
Or even a pure
Soul.
Love has
Befriended Hafiz so completely
It has turned to ash
And freed
Me
Of every concept and image
my mind has ever known.
~From: 'The Gift' Translated by Daniel Ladinsky
I
Have
Learned So much from God
That I can no longer
Call
Myself
A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,
a Buddhist, a Jew.
The Truth has shared so much of Itself
With me
That I can no longer call myself
A man, a woman, an angel,
Or even a pure
Soul.
Love has
Befriended Hafiz so completely
It has turned to ash
And freed
Me
Of every concept and image
my mind has ever known.
~From: 'The Gift' Translated by Daniel Ladinsky
lundi 24 juin 2013
Les triplés ont 80 ans
Triplets who doctors feared would not survive after being born under 5lb celebrate their 80th birthday.....Like to wish for them a happy birthday
Bonne fête aux Jean, Yann, Yannick, Ivan
Aujourd'hui, nous fêtons les Jean Baptiste le Précurseur ainsi que les Baptiste, Hans, Ivan, Jack, John,Johnny, Yann, Yannick et Yvan.
Fêtes et prénoms bretons :
Tutael.
« Si Saint-Jean manque sa ventée, celle de Saint-Pierre ne sera pas volée. ». Il l'a manqué , il n'y a pas un souffle en Irlande. La journée fut paradisiaque bien que l'on se dirige vers l'hiver dans cet hémisphère !!!
À Paris, Lever du jour :05h47 Coucher : 21h58 c'est ainsi depuis le 17 juin |
Et voilà que dès demain on va commencer à dévaler la pente |
Perspective
Un homme, un jour, ne retrouve plus sa hache . Il soupçonne le fils de son voisin parce que le garçon en question marche comme un voleur, a l'air d'être un voleur, parle comme un voleur .
Le lendemain l'homme retrouve sa hache quand il se souvient où il l'a laissée. La fois suivante quand il le croise, le fils du voisin marche, se présente et parle comme n'importe quel autre enfant.
Once upon a time a man couldn't find his ax. He suspected his neighbor's son because the boy walked like a thief, looked like a thief, and spoke like a thief.
The following morning the man found his ax when he remembered where he left it. The next time he saw his neighbor's son, the boy walked, looked, and spoke like any other child.
dimanche 23 juin 2013
Pleine lune et insomnie
samedi 22 juin 2013
Les lacs du Mont Kelimutu ( indonésie )
The Lakes of Mount Kelimutu, Indonesia are considered to be the resting place for departed souls, the lakes are locally referred to as "the lake of evil spirits". All 3lakes change colors from blue to green to black or red unpredictably.
Have a nice fractal day
Sunny and Peter
Former death row couple: 'Life turned out beautifully'
Sunny Jacobs and Peter Pringle are a happy couple with a rare common bond. Each spent more than 15 years on death row for murder – she in the US, he in Ireland – before being found innocent and given back their freedom
Peter Pringle and Sunny Jacobs have a lot of things in common, as most couples do. They both love yoga, meditation and swimming, vegetarian food and living in the countryside.
But the couple, who were married in New York just over a year ago, have something else in common that connects them in a profound way. Before they met, Sunny and Peter faced the death penalty for separate yet eerily similar crimes. In 1976, Sunny was placed on death row in Florida for the murder of two police officers. Four years later, in Dublin, Peter was sentenced to death for the murder of two officers of the Garda Síochána, the Irish police force.
Both lost huge chunks of their life in prison: Sunny served 17 years, Peter 15. However, both were victims of wrongful convictions, their lives on the line for crimes they did not commit. But they were eventually exonerated and now, at least, they are free. Together, they have rebuilt their lives.
Sunny and Peter met in 1998 when Sunny, who started campaigning against the death penalty soon after she was released, travelled toIreland to speak at Amnesty International events. Peter went to one of her talks in a pub in Galway. He sat in the front row while she told her story and sobbed quietly, moved by her suffering but also by the realisation that here was someone else who knew what it was like to be sentenced to death for something they hadn't done.
"Since I'd been released, I'd never met anyone else who'd been through this kind of trauma," says Peter, who is now 74 (he was 41 when he was convicted). "I was deeply touched by her story and I just had to talk to her. There was this spiritual connection there."
Sunny was 28 when her life changed. She was travelling with her boyfriend, Jesse Tafero, and her two children, Eric, nine, and Christina, 10 months. Their car had broken down in Florida and they were trying to get home to North Carolina.
Someone Jesse knew, Walter Rhodes, agreed to drive them. Sunny thought Rhodes was "creepy". She fell asleep with the children in the back seat, but was startled awake by a policeman knocking on the window. The next thing she knew, chaos ensued and gunfire opened. She was arrested. Her children were taken away.
Rhodes negotiated a plea bargain with the state, claiming Jesse and Sunny had pulled the triggers, in exchange for a life sentence. Sunny was put in solitary confinement for five years, awaiting execution. Her cell was minuscule at 6ft by 9ft, and she spent days pacing back and forth. She began to practise yoga. In her book, Stolen Time, she writes: "Hopelessness just didn't appeal to me … they can keep me here but what goes on within the confines of these walls is mine to create. They cannot imprison my soul!"
Her sentence was eventually reduced to life, but Jesse was executed in horrific circumstances. The electric chair malfunctioned and it took him 13 and a half minutes to die. Flames reportedly shot out of his head.
After Jesse's execution, Rhodes confessed he had fired the fatal shots confirming both Jesse's and Sunny's long-maintained innocence. Sunny was freed in 1992. But it was a difficult freedom to adjust to. By this time, she was 45.
"I had to learn how to do things all over again," says Sunny, who is now 65 and looks notably frail for her age because of a chronic back problem. "I had to learn how to make a living, be a mother and simply be a person again. It was very difficult, but at the same time I wanted to get past it. I wouldn't say my experience haunts me, but it's always there. Everyone gets challenged in life and you can either spend the rest of your life looking backwards, or you can make a decision to keep going. That's the choice I made."
While Sunny was in prison, her parents, who looked after the children, died in a plane crash. Her children were older and for most of their lives, their mother had been in jail. Life on the outside was completely different. Rebuilding her life and bonding with her children were her priorities. After having lost Jesse, falling in love again was the last thing on her mind.
"I was attached to Jesse for a very long time, even after his death. It took me about three years to finally let him go," she says. "I'd given up on meeting anyone. I just accepted that not everyone was meant to have a partner. But then I met Peter."
After their initial meeting in Galway, Sunny went back to the US and they began to write to each other and talk on the phone. "It was spiritual and special," says Sunny. "We'd talk about forgiveness. We'd talk about healing."
She came back to Ireland to be with Peter. Seven years ago, on the shortest day of the year, they walked down to the shore and exchanged vows. Then in 2011, they had an official marriage ceremony in New York.
At more than 6ft tall and well-built, Peter towers protectively over Sunny, placing a large gentle hand on her back to support her as she walks. A former fisherman, his face is rugged, his beard and hair thick and snowy white.
Peter was one of the last people in Ireland to be sentenced to death in 1980. He says most people's first reaction is that they can't believe Ireland had the death penalty – capital punishment was only abolished in 1990, with a constitutional ban on the death penalty introduced in 2002.
He was arrested after two police officers, Henry Byrne and John Morley, were shot. Byrne and Morley were chasing three armed, masked men who had robbed a bank and were fleeing the crime scene. The Garda car collided with the getaway vehicle and the robbers opened fire. In Ireland, the murders caused national outrage.
Peter maintained he was never a part of it. At the time, he was separated from the mother of his children and was on his way to see her to negotiate spending more time with his four children.
But at the final court hearing, the judge declared that all three men, including Peter were to be sentenced to "death by execution". His lawyer broke down in tears after the sentence was passed. The prosecution maintained that wool fibres from a jumper detectives say Peter wore when he was arrested placed him in the robber's getaway car. And police statements presented as evidence stated that he had made a 'voluntary verbal admission', which Peter had always denied. A key witness, a police officer, identified another man as the third culprit, not Peter.
Peter was already known to the Garda because he had been involved with the IRA in his youth and arrested because of it in his early 20s.
But that experience was nothing compared to what it was like in the death cell, Peter says. He spent months in isolation for 23 hours a day. Conditions were harsh; the cell was cramped, with no natural light and a plastic potty in lieu of a toilet. He overheard his jailers talking about his hanging.
"When I was in that cell, I realised that until they killed me, I was still my own person. They couldn't imprison my mind, my spirit or my heart. That somehow gave me relief and I promised myself I would live in prison in the best way possible," he says. "My biggest fear was not dying, but that I would die without dignity. I didn't want to let myself go in front of the jailers."
Peter began to prepare for death, practising meditation and exercising when he could. "I was afraid I'd let myself and my children down. The hardest part was being isolated from them. I was very worried about what it would mean for them to have their father hanged. Every visit from them was heartwrenching. I was flattened by the pain in their eyes."
But two weeks before Peter's execution date, set for June 1981, the prison governor told him that his sentence had been commuted – instead of the death penalty, he now faced 40 years in jail. Peter's immediate reaction of relief was quickly followed by despair. "I couldn't face 40 years in prison with no chance of getting out. I thought it would be easier to kill myself. But my pride wouldn't let me do that. Then I knew the only thing I could do was prove my innocence."
Peter began to study law in prison and reopened his case in the high court in 1992. He was granted bail and the state decided not to order a retrial. Peter had proved his innocence. He was a free man. The other two men convicted of the killings are still in prison, 32 years later.
Life after prison was tough. Peter had no money and couldn't get a job. To this day, he has not been offered compensation by the state for the wrongful conviction and cannot find a senior counsel who will fight for recompense for him.
Relationships were difficult. It took time to rebuild a connection with his four adult children. "There had been a lot of pain. The whole family had been affected."
His first wife had long moved on and his partner at the time of his arrest, who helped him with his case while he was in prison and with whom he initially moved in, asked him to leave.
"It took a long time to feel comfortable around people. They look at you differently when you come out of prison. They'd ask what it was like, but I didn't want to talk about it. There's no way they could understand. Plus, the world had changed in 15 years. In Ireland, there was a new currency I had to learn to use. I'd never been in a supermarket before and I was amazed by the idea of a cashpoint. There were so many weird things I had to get used to."
Although Peter didn't like talking about prison, Sunny persuaded him to tell his story too, so that people could learn from it. He has just written a book, About Time, which details his prison experience, and now speaks frequently at human rights events with Sunny, despite his dislike of the limelight.
The couple have dedicated part of their lives to campaigning for human rights. When we meet, they are preparing to talk for Amicus, the legal charity that provides representation for those facing the death penalty in the US. The couple also support groups for disadvantaged people all over the world.
And they are setting up a charity for former prisoners who have been exonerated, and their families, to help them through the trauma of wrongful convictions. They plan to invite people to stay with them to allow them time to adjust to life on the outside, and give families a chance to heal. The project is called the Sunny Sanctuary.
But being exonerated doesn't define who Sunny and Peter are all the time. They have another life too now. Far from confined cells, they have made a deliberate choice to live a quiet, rural life in a cottage on three and a half acres of land, close to the sea in west Ireland. They keep chickens and goats. Peter beams when he mentions his seven grandchildren. Sunny teaches yoga classes locally. The couple meditate every day.
"At home, we don't talk about what it was like in prison. That's understood," says Peter. "We've been there, done that. That's the way it is."
Sunny adds: "We don't talk about who we were. We don't need to."
Despite the years they lost in prison and everything they have been through, they are not bitter. "Life has turned out beautifully," says Peter. "Sure, it's not without its difficulties. We have no money. But we do good work. We are at peace. And we have a great life together. We look forward, and we live in the moment."
About Time by Peter Pringle, published by The History Press Ireland, is out now, £14.99. To order a copy for £11.99, including free UK p&p, go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop or call 0330 333 6846
vendredi 21 juin 2013
Portable dans le train
Après une longue et fatigante journée au bureau, une jeune femme se cale dans son siège
et ferme les yeux pendant que le train part de la gare des Guillemins.
Dès que le train sort de la gare, le gars assis en face d’elle sort son portable et
commence à parler fort :
- Salut Mon Cœur, c’est Roland, Je suis dans le train.
Oui, celui de 18:30 et pas celui de 16:30, parce que j’ai eu une longue réunion.
- Non, Chérie, pas avec le nul de la Compta, mais avec le Patron.
- Non, mon Cœur, tu es la seule femme de ma vie.
Oui, j’en suis sûr, promis-juré… etc. etc. ".
Un quart d’heure plus tard, le gars continue à parler haut et fort, lorsque
la jeune femme assise en face, visiblement exaspérée par ce bavardage continu et bruyant
se met à hurler :
- "Ho ! Roland ! Éteins ce putain de téléphone et reviens au lit !".
Depuis, Roland n’utilise plus son téléphone portable dans un lieu public.
et ferme les yeux pendant que le train part de la gare des Guillemins.
Dès que le train sort de la gare, le gars assis en face d’elle sort son portable et
commence à parler fort :
- Salut Mon Cœur, c’est Roland, Je suis dans le train.
Oui, celui de 18:30 et pas celui de 16:30, parce que j’ai eu une longue réunion.
- Non, Chérie, pas avec le nul de la Compta, mais avec le Patron.
- Non, mon Cœur, tu es la seule femme de ma vie.
Oui, j’en suis sûr, promis-juré… etc. etc. ".
Un quart d’heure plus tard, le gars continue à parler haut et fort, lorsque
la jeune femme assise en face, visiblement exaspérée par ce bavardage continu et bruyant
se met à hurler :
- "Ho ! Roland ! Éteins ce putain de téléphone et reviens au lit !".
Depuis, Roland n’utilise plus son téléphone portable dans un lieu public.
Le mariage gay en Bretagne
Et pourtant je viens de voir ce soir même un reportage extrêmement touchant sur deux hommes accueillant, leurs jumeaux portés par une merveilleuse mère de famille américaine. Longue aimante vie à eux tous .
Affiche transmise par Marie Lagadec
Affiche transmise par Marie Lagadec
Amazing
In 1961, Leonid Rogozov, 27, was the only surgeon in the Soviet Antarctic Expedition. During the expedition, he felt severe pain in the stomach and had a high fever. Rogozov examined himself and discovered that his appendix was inflamed and could burst at any time. With a local anesthesia, he operated himself to remove the appendix. An engineer and a meteorologist assisted surgery.
Solstice d' été
Au dernier solstice (dec 2012) il paraît que de nouvelles énergies se chargeaient de mettre en marche une nouvelle terre. Beaucoup de personnes autour de moi se sont dites fatiguées ces derniers temps. Je me suis sentie épuisée. Peut être que nos corps ont eu besoin d'un temps d'adaptation. Je suis rentrée hier de Paris pour être sur la Terre d'Irlande en ce 21 juin et voilà que l'été semble loin. Il fait gris, il fait froid, il pleut sur les milliers de marguerites qui égaient les talus, sur les rhodos qui perdent leurs couleurs, sur les iris ivres d'eau. Puissions-nous vite avoir les véhicules qu'il faut pour endiguer et canaliser ces énergies d'espoir qui nous feront fleurir de l'intérieur.
Dingle Peninsula
Minard Castle, Dingle Peninsula. Mín ard, the smooth height. A Geraldine towerhouse, built 15th century.
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