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Indlæser... 11,559 | 146 | 408 |
(4.11) | 126 | Korte prosatekster, hvori forfatteren formidler sine tanker om kærligheden, livet og døden præget af østens filosofi og mystik. |
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Kanonisk titel |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Oprindelig udgivelsesdato |
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Personer/Figurer |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Vigtige steder |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Vigtige begivenheder |
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Beslægtede film |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Priser og hædersbevisninger |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Indskrift |
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Tilegnelse |
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Første ord |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn unto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.  | |
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Citater |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. You have been told that, even like a chain, you are as weak as your weakest link. This is but half the truth. You are also as strong as your strongest link. To measure you by your smallest deed is to reckon the power of the ocean by the frailty of its foam.  And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of desperation.  When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him...  Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you yet they belong not to you.  You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.  And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?  And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup. And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress.  Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.  The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.  When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.  Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral.  And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.  Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understand.  Say not, 'I have found the truth,' but rather, 'I have found a truth.'  The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.  No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge.  You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; and when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.  Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness, and knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.  And that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.  But regret is the beclouding of the mind and not its chastisement.  He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked.  Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have read the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, than shall you truly dance.  | |
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Sidste ord |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Oplysning om flertydighed |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. Library of Congress please note: this is NOT a work written in Arabic and translated into English. It is a work written in English by a Lebanese poet.  | |
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Forlagets redaktører |
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Bagsidecitater |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Originalsprog |
Oplysninger fra den engelske Almen Viden Redigér teksten, så den bliver dansk. | |
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Canonical DDC/MDS |
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▾Referencer Henvisninger til dette værk andre steder. Wikipedia på engelsk
Ingen ▾Bogbeskrivelser Korte prosatekster, hvori forfatteren formidler sine tanker om kærligheden, livet og døden præget af østens filosofi og mystik. ▾Biblioteksbeskrivelser af bogens indhold No library descriptions found. ▾LibraryThingmedlemmers beskrivelse af bogens indhold
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Google Books — Indlæser... Byt (11 have, 113 ønsker)
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