There is a poem by a Hungarian poet, Lőrinc Szabó, which I have hated fervently since I have known it.
I hated it because I have always thought that it is an expression of utmost selfishness, machoism, and it is everything an enlightened, mature relationship isn't.
As if by miracle, I found a very good English translation of the verse (which is in Hungarian, of course) on the Internet made by a certain N. Ullrich Katalin.
Read the verse and, then, the realisation.
I hated it because I have always thought that it is an expression of utmost selfishness, machoism, and it is everything an enlightened, mature relationship isn't.
As if by miracle, I found a very good English translation of the verse (which is in Hungarian, of course) on the Internet made by a certain N. Ullrich Katalin.
Read the verse and, then, the realisation.
Entirely And For Nothing
It’s terrible, I do believe,
but it’s so.
If you love, your life should be
a suicide, almost.
I couldn’t care less what modern people
or the law may demand from me,
those servants outside are all
their masters inside,
and only according to laws of my own
can I have joy and delight.
You aren’t mine if you’re still yours:
you don’t yet love me.
As long as in return you want me to be yours,
a burden you might as well be.
A bargain, even if sacred, is a bargain: I do need
something different now: Entirely and for Nothing!
Everything else is but a war
of two selfish egos fought secretly,
I’m asking for more:
be part of my fate indelibly.
I’m afraid of everyone, I’m sick
and exhausted,
I’m longing for you even so, maybe,
but it’s so long since my faith abandoned me.
To smooth away all ghastly suspicion
I can merely ask you so:
Show me the joy of complete submission
and self-denial,
and that for my sake alone you can
stand up against the whole universe.
Because as long as you want a single moment
alone and just for yourself,
as long as you dare to think of your own self,
as long as you want your life to be spared,
as long as you aren’t like an object
lacking driving force, lifeless:
you aren’t any better or more
than all the others,
a stranger you might be called,
we’ll never be lovers.
Someone protected by law may though
pass for a friend,
be like an animal, beyond law,
be like it, and I’ll love you then.
Like a lamp suddenly turned off,
don’t live when it’s what I want,
don’t talk, don’t cry, don’t realize
this solid prison,
and within myself I’ll get it right
that you can forgive: I’m a tyrant.
Translation by N. Ullrich Katalin
I have been thinking of this poem quite often nowadays, trying to pierce into its deeper meaning, and, suddenly, the question emerged in my mind: what if, what if, this verse is not said by a selfish husband but Krishna, God?
What if this is a description of how God wants us to love Him?
I read and re-read the verse, and found that it is a very good rendition of what the great spiritual masters teach, and, ultimately, Krishna says in the Bhagavad Gita: this is the requirement of pure, loving devotional service to God... if we can master love at this level of surrender, we can ultimately go back to Godhead, to the Spiritual World... but the price is not cheap...
Just a footnote: the fact that the poet, by divine inspiration, could write such a perfect description of full surrender, does not mean he is not a rascal. He is rascal number one, because he demands a degree of surrender that is only due to the Supreme Lord, no one else... Still, the verse is enlightening.
It’s terrible, I do believe,
but it’s so.
If you love, your life should be
a suicide, almost.
I couldn’t care less what modern people
or the law may demand from me,
those servants outside are all
their masters inside,
and only according to laws of my own
can I have joy and delight.
You aren’t mine if you’re still yours:
you don’t yet love me.
As long as in return you want me to be yours,
a burden you might as well be.
A bargain, even if sacred, is a bargain: I do need
something different now: Entirely and for Nothing!
Everything else is but a war
of two selfish egos fought secretly,
I’m asking for more:
be part of my fate indelibly.
I’m afraid of everyone, I’m sick
and exhausted,
I’m longing for you even so, maybe,
but it’s so long since my faith abandoned me.
To smooth away all ghastly suspicion
I can merely ask you so:
Show me the joy of complete submission
and self-denial,
and that for my sake alone you can
stand up against the whole universe.
Because as long as you want a single moment
alone and just for yourself,
as long as you dare to think of your own self,
as long as you want your life to be spared,
as long as you aren’t like an object
lacking driving force, lifeless:
you aren’t any better or more
than all the others,
a stranger you might be called,
we’ll never be lovers.
Someone protected by law may though
pass for a friend,
be like an animal, beyond law,
be like it, and I’ll love you then.
Like a lamp suddenly turned off,
don’t live when it’s what I want,
don’t talk, don’t cry, don’t realize
this solid prison,
and within myself I’ll get it right
that you can forgive: I’m a tyrant.
Translation by N. Ullrich Katalin
I have been thinking of this poem quite often nowadays, trying to pierce into its deeper meaning, and, suddenly, the question emerged in my mind: what if, what if, this verse is not said by a selfish husband but Krishna, God?
What if this is a description of how God wants us to love Him?
I read and re-read the verse, and found that it is a very good rendition of what the great spiritual masters teach, and, ultimately, Krishna says in the Bhagavad Gita: this is the requirement of pure, loving devotional service to God... if we can master love at this level of surrender, we can ultimately go back to Godhead, to the Spiritual World... but the price is not cheap...
Just a footnote: the fact that the poet, by divine inspiration, could write such a perfect description of full surrender, does not mean he is not a rascal. He is rascal number one, because he demands a degree of surrender that is only due to the Supreme Lord, no one else... Still, the verse is enlightening.
