To act
Is this
Recognize
about the
What one
does
Without
the own
exam
of thing
To act
One will
deaf
Is it
To the danger
one
even
And those
At which
you
ruthless
Go by
So that
World tolerable
becomes
creates one
With magic
exceeding
So that
incompatible
Compatible
make
The fairytales
to tell about
stories
In the dream
they mean
not that
impossible
possible
to
make
The dream
Says everyone
From itself
out
What him
of the reality
to complement
The history
in the universe
currently
The inner world
Of the outside world
in the room
The soul
Hides everything
the past
Up to the
Now in space
In contradiction
Of the simple
thinking
Houses them
the knowloedge
from nature
And conscience
The
mysticism
The poet
And intellectuals
disinclined
The inner world
Apply
equal
laws
In US
Is a universe
Of opposites
We must
The service
do
at the inside
strange
unknown
powers
Your own
Spirit as
Tool
the thinking
the evil
In itself
to overcome
Is too weak
The people
out there
Are image
And symbol
To find
Of one ’s own
Even
It is a
reflection
the soul
Where some
The residence
the Gods
see
to them
we us
on the
Journey
in addition
yearn
There are
No discipline
still a
teaching
the way
there
is
Everyone in the
Good and
In the bad
given
Be different
be able
as a human
as
the
What one
In existence
in experience
brings
And lives
There are
not that
once
Also none
others
The self-respect
in particular
to all
enough
Without one
Believe
itself
and others
At your feet
ಬೇರೆಯಾಗಿರುತ್ತದೆ
ಕ್ಯಾನ್
ಒಬ್ಬ ಮಾನವ ಎಂದು
ಕ್ಕಿಂತ
ದಿ
ಏನು
ನೀವು
ಅಸ್ತಿತ್ವದ
ಅನುಭವದ ಮೂಲಕ
ತರುತ್ತದೆ
ಮತ್ತು ಜೀವಗಳನ್ನು
ಇವೆ
ಕೇವಲ
ದಿ
ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಮಾತ್ರ
ಕೂಡ ಇದಕ್ಕೆ
ಇತರೆ
ಆತ್ಮ ಗೌರವದ
ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಎಲ್ಲಾ
ಟು
ಎಲ್ಲಾ
ಸಾಕಾಗುವಷ್ಟು
ಇಲ್ಲದೆ ಒಂದು
ನಂಬಿಕೆಯ
ತನ್ನ
ಸ್ವತಃ
ಮತ್ತು ಇತರ
ನಿಮ್ಮ ಅಡಿ ನಲ್ಲಿ
Every person is unique and cannot be compared to anyone else. The soul connects our lives to the others around us.
We are intertwined with the outside world
entangled with others we live with we cannot merge with others. We cannot see inside other people, never fully understand the other person deep inside. From our parents, the connection in the bud, in the cry of blood to be born into the world. Who we really are, we can never completely fathom for ourselves, never know for ourselves. While others in the world around us have some influence on us, determination in coming and going comes from the law of the soul; until today, to the incarnation which is still in progress. The image of the physical appearance of our parents (we differ little in genes from other living beings) in the generational transmission, the values of our culture and the unique intricacies of our closest friends must be able to be questioned for their contents. No one but ourselves has the work to do to leave behind who we are and who we are meant to become. We are responsible for the tracks we leave.
Our "I" is time, in our short lifetime. Every human being has the task of making himself (not for others) comprehensible.
You can imagine a self. The "I" develops in the drama of the soul. The soul that we are not the author ourselves, in which soul can only play a supporting role. We are dependent on the outside world of the environment, we are shaped in development by life itself. We are nature in nature. Death is the only fact, death is the goal of all people. For order and balance in a constantly changing world and inner world, man must try this task every day for the better.
Man in his subjectivity in every moment.
No one is a you in the other, the soul turns the paradox into an image with the task of not seeing the other but itself in the countertransference.
Every human being is a separate being, separated from the others by their intimacy (by the border of the skin). The collective experiences are inscribed in the human history of the soul. The root is the soul that gives each person their own character.
Art is a child of the soul, it does not want to content itself with plucking the fruits from the tree of knowledge, the artist sees himself, for all simple people, as the creator of the tree of life, from which he gives us its fruits of the temptation wants us to participate.
The universe cannot think, but on earth it created us from stardust.
Final Thoughts
I am my own worst enemy, so I have no news, no mission to other people to report for the better of an inner-fulfilled life.
*
Jeder Mensch ist einzigartig und mit keinem anderen zu vergleichen. Die Seele verbindet unsere Leben mit den anderen um uns herum.
Wir sind mit der Aussenwelt verflochten
verstrickt mit anderen mit denen wir zusammen leben wir können uns nicht mit anderen verschmelzen. Wir können nicht in andere Menschen hineinsehen, den anderen in seinem Innersten nie ganz verstehen. Von unseren Eltern, die Verbindung im Keim, im Blutschrei zur Geburt in die Welt. Wer wir wirklich sind, das können wir in der Gänze für uns selbst nie ganz ergründen, nie ganz für uns wissen. Die anderen, in der Welt um uns herum, haben zwar einen gewissen Einfluss auf uns, die Bestimmung im Werden und Vergehen, kommt aus dem Gesetz der Seele; bis heute, zur Menschwerdung die noch immer im Gange sich befindet. Das Bild über die körperliche Erscheinung unserer Eltern, (wir unterscheiden uns wenig in den Genen von anderen Lebewesen) in der Generationen Übertragung, die Werte unserer Kultur und die einzigartigen Feinheiten unserer engsten Freunde müssen nach ihren Inhalten hinterfragt werden können. Niemand als wir selbst haben die Arbeit daran zu leisten, zu hinterlassen wer wir sind und wer wir werden sollen. Für unsere Spuren die wir legen, sind wir selbst verantwortlich.
Unser „Ich“ ist Zeit, in unserer kurzen Lebenszeit. Jeder Mensch hat die Aufgabe, sich für sich selbst, (nicht für die anderen) fassbar zu machen.
Ein Selbst darf man sich denken. Das „ich“ entwickelt sich im Drama der Seele. Der Seele, der wir nicht der Autor selbst sind, in der Seele nur eine Nebenrolle spielen können. Wir sind von der Aussenwelt der Umwelt abhängig, geformt werden wir in der Entwicklung durch das Leben selbst. Wir sind Natur in der Natur. Der Tod ist die einzige Tatsache, der Tod ist das Ziel aller Menschen. Zur Ordnung und dem Gleichgewicht in einer sich ständig verändernden Welt und Innenwelt, diese Aufgabe muss der Mensch täglich zum besseren täglich versuchen..
Der Mensch in seiner Subjektivität in jedem Moment.
Niemand ist ein Du im anderen, die Seele macht das Paradoxon zum Bild, mit der Aufgabe, nicht den anderen, sondern sich selbst, in der Gegenübertragung zu sehen.
Jeder Mensch ist ein eigenständiges Wesen, durch seine Intimität, (durch die Grenze der Haut) getrennt von den anderen. Die kollektiven Erfahrungen, sind in der Menschheitsgeschichte der Seele, eingeschrieben. Die Wurzel ist die Seele, die jedem Menschen seinen eigenen Charakter verleiht.
Die Kunst ist ein Kind der Seele, sie möchte sich nicht damit begnügen, vom Baum der Erkenntnis die Früchte zu pflücken, der Künstler sieht sich selbst, für alle einfachen Menschen, als der Schöpfer dem Baum des Lebens, von dem er uns seine Früchte der Versuchung uns daran teilhaben möchte.
Das Universum kann zwar nicht denken, doch auf der Erde hat es uns, aus Sternenstaub hervorgebracht.
Abschließende Gedanken
Ich bin mir selbst der größte Feind, deswegen habe ich auch keine Nachricht, keine Sendung an andere Menschen, zum Besseren eines innerfüllten Lebens zu berichten.
In restlessness
discontent
listlessness
And overload
Even if
We shy
All beings
The mighty
dependent
as an subservient
Not that
one tries
It others
right
To make
The terrible
And fear
belongs to
essence of
nature
The dark one
Messenger of the
Soul
Us with it
The passage
All misery
Of all hardship
The purification
In the mind
happens
by the
endure
of pain
And hopelessness
To endure this
In the
Hellfire
persist
until the
Own way
Is illuminated
If
Of the eyes
view
fragmented
Is it
Time the
walking stick
to take
Or someone
others
around
be
light
to ask
The history
Of words
circled
because that
mind
no pictures
to
has
Fall the
letters
As a shadow
To the place
in between
The branches
and
twigs
Of withered
still at
wayside
standing
trees
la història
de les paraules
circumdat
pel fet que el
esperit
cap imatge
per
s’ha
deixar caure el
lletres
com una ombra
l’aiguat va
entre
les forquilles
i branques
del resseca
encara en
de la vora del camí
estar drets
arbres
la brúixola
té en mi
una cara
l’agulla
quan
jo
un llibre
collita
el jo
grades
era
mai una
estranger
esperit de
amb mi a través
els números
commovedor
havia
l’ànima
les seves paraules
en una
desconegut per a mi
familiar
estil
La visió del món
l’interior
establir al meu
naturalesa
em diària
succeeix
The compass
Has in me
a face
Whose needle
if
I
a book
reading
that me
stabs
It was
Never
foreign
Spirit of the
Me through
the digits
touched
There were
the soul
Her words
in a
Unknown to me
familiar
manner
The world view
From the inside
forth my
According to
Me every day
happens
យើង
ពួកយើង
បរិស្ថាន
យើង
មាន
ថាតើក្រីក្រនៅ
មិនថាជាអ្នកមាន
ធម្មជាតិ
ដែលវាត្រូវការពេល
ភាពក្លាហាន
ខ្លួនគាត់ផ្ទាល់
ខ្លួនមានតម្លៃ
នៅទីនេះ
ការ
ដោយខ្លួនឯងក្នុងការ
ឱ្យមានចិត្ដរាបទាប
សេរីភាព
ការបង្កើតការ
ក្នុង
ភាពឯកោ
ក្នុងចិត្ត
ការឆ្លុះបញ្ចាំង
នៃព្រលឹង
ពីរបស់យើង
ភាពកខ្វក់
មួយ
កំទេចអាហារមាស
ការបង្កើតការ
មួយ
ដាក់ទៅស្នាក់នៅ
ផ្ទះល្វែងមួយ
ដែលគ្មាន
ការលើកកម្ពស់
ខ្លួនគាត់ផ្ទាល់
មិនមាន
បាននិយាយថា
ការ
គ្មាន
ខ្លួនគាត់ផ្ទាល់
ខ្លួនវាល្អប្រសើរជាងមុន
ដើម្បីធ្វើឱ្យ
ትክክለኛው የትንሽ ነገሮች መጠን
ለውጥ የለውም
የብዙ ቃላት ድር
እንከን የሌለበት ሊጥ
በእያንዳንዱ
መሞከር
ከሰው እጅ
ለአለም
በተለመደው ስሜት
ዋጋ ያለው ለማድረግ
*
Die richtige
Menge
aus Kleinigkeiten
macht es
nicht aus
ein Geflecht
von Worten
einen Teig
ohne
einen Fehler
in jedem
Versuch
aus Menschenhand
für die
Welt
im gebräuchlichen
Sinne
wertvoll
zu machen
On Farewell
Do you call
me
at the
names
I open it
At the same time
a new
unknown
world
In the shade
The lost
paradise
In the mind
the night
A deep one
sweet
Woe out
abandoned
garden
үчүн
акырында коштошор
колл
сиз
мага
алганда
аталыштар
Мен ачат
ошону менен
бир
жаңы
белгисиз
дүйнө
көлөкөдө
-Жоголгон
бейиш
ичинде
жан
түн
бир
терең
таттуу
каран
тартып
таштап
бакча
Who the weed
In his garden
As spoiled
will also be
With infertility
Of dissatisfaction
himself
in the
To be there
not
rightly
come
누가 그
위드가
에서 자신의
정원
대로
유해물
스스로
자기 자신
라고 생각
이다
또한
와 함께
불모
불만
그의
자기 자신
에서
의 존재
수 없습니다
생활
의의
에
자신의
생활 경로를
왔다
If the
biting
Greedy breath
Of men’s rule
itself
The living
Is obtained
Awaken it
In the mind
the men
the mother
be
to the world
of the things
And essence