One only can hope to live good as one can
To be a good woman or be a good man
To learn how to receive you must know how to give
And live by the moral of live and let live
Most people in their ways can be good and kind
But if you only look for flaws in others then flaws you will find
You never will become the toast of the town
If in your words you do like to put others down
You can only be the best that you can be
And if you look for good in others then good you will see
And if you cannot say good things of others nothing of them say
You are doing well in life if you can live in this way
On learning to walk the child often does fall
And to be a good person not easy at all.
Best of the paths is the eightfold,
best of the truths the four;
best of the virtues is freedom from attachment;
best of the people is the one who sees.
This is the path;
there is no other that leads to the purifying of insight.
Follow this path, and Mara will be confused.
If you follow this path, you will end your suffering.
This path was preached by me
when I became aware of the removal of the thorns.
You yourself must make the effort.
The perfected ones are only preachers.
Those who enter the path and practice meditation
are released from the bondage of Mara.
“All created things perish.”
Whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.
“All created things are sorrow.”
Whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.
“All forms are unreal.”
whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.
Whoever does not rise when it is time to rise,
who, though young and strong, is lazy,
who is weak in will and thought,
that lazy and idle person will not find the path of wisdom.
Watching one’s speech, restraining well the mind,
let one not commit any wrong with one’s body.
Whoever keeps these three roads of action clear,
will make progress on the path taught by the wise.
Through meditation wisdom is gained;
through lack of meditation wisdom is lost.
Whoever knows this double path of progress and decline,
should place oneself so that wisdom will grow.
Cut down the forest of desires, not just a tree;
danger is in the forest.
When you have cut down the forest and its undergrowth,
then, mendicants, you will be free.
As long as the desire, however small,
of a man for women is not destroyed,
so long is his mind attached,
like a sucking calf is to its mother.
Cut out the love of self,
like an autumn lotus, with your hand.
Cherish the path of peace.
Nirvana has been shown by the Buddha.
“Here I shall live in the rain,
here in winter and summer.”
Thus thinks the fool, not thinking of death.
Death comes and carries off that person
who is satisfied with one’s children and flocks,
whose mind is distracted,
like a flood carries off a sleeping village.
Sons are no help, nor a father, nor relations;
for one who is seized by death, there is no safety in family.
Understanding the meaning of this, the wise and just person
should quickly clear the path that leads to nirvana.
the ultimate used his creativity,
and planned for a huge diversity,
tiger, lion, parrot, carrot everyone else,
from every nationality,
we are sanctity,
if you have humanity,
you don’t hope yourselves as vanity.
we are one among in you,
but you made us few.
you will flourish,
if you save us.
you will perish,
if you pave us.
we roar to all his creativity,
to have a little humanity.
to save, not pave.
we buzz to help us,
rather you fuss.
we all fall in pathos,
save us and have kudos.
enshrine, not destroy,
all world can heal,
let us plant tree and leave them free.
almighty created all of us,
let them also take a chance to live
killing animals should not be a fun
so let all put our hands together to shun
Little children, never give
Pain to things that feel and live;
Let the gentle robin come
For the crumbs you save at home;
As his meat you throw along
He’ll repay you with a song.
Never hurt the timid hare
Peeping from her green grass lair,
Let her come and sport and play
On the lawn at close of day.
The little lark goes soaring high
To the bright windows of the sky,
Singing as if t’were always spring,
And fluttering on an untired wing –
Oh! Let him sing his happy song,
Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.
~ Author unknown
KINDNESS TO ANIMALS
1 Be kind to animals, my child:
2 Don’t make the gentle ringworm wild.
3 Little children shouldn’t tease
4 Little Fido’s littler fleas.
5 When you see th’industrious ant
6 Too heavy burdened toil and pant,
7 Ease him of his irksome load,
8 Lift it for him down the road.
9 Don’t bite the little worm in half
10 That in your lettuce hides-just laugh,
11 Politely stroke his slimy head,
12 And eat some other things instead.
13 Speak not harshly to the moth
14 Though she dines on fur and cloth,
15 Remember everyone must eat,
16 –Why not offer her a treat?-
17 Cut a large sized bit of fur
18 From your coat and give it her,
19 Such unselfishness as this
20 Will fill your Mother’s heart with bliss.
21 And lastly, pray do not encroach
22 With heavy tread upon the roach,
23 The insect’s jellified remains
24 Afflict the rugs with horrid stains.
25 Be gentle to these fellow creatures,
26 And ever learn to love your teachers.
A. J. M. Smith, The Complete Poems, ed. Brian Trehearne (London, Ontario: Canadian Poetry Press, 2007): 188-89.
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!
It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.
Oh, that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—
I am too bold. ‘Tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand
That I might touch that cheek!
Act 2, Scene 2. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy written by William Shakespeare early in his career about two young star-crossed lovers whose deaths ultimately reconcile their feuding families. It was among Shakespeare’s most popular plays during his lifetime and along with Hamlet, is one of his most frequently performed plays.
1) Dogs form their tongue into a cup when drinking
2) The spike collar was designed to protect dogs from wolves
3) Dogs can see in color
4) Dogs can smell disease
5) Dogs dream too!
6) Dogs have three eyelids
7) Dogs only sweat through their feet
A Dog Has Died – Poem by Pablo Neruda
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.
So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.
There is a Smile of Love
And there is a Smile of Deceit
And there is a Smile of Smiles
In which these two Smiles meet
And there is a Frown of Hate
And there is a Frown of disdain
And there is a Frown of Frowns
Which you strive to forget in vain
For it sticks in the Hearts deep Core
And it sticks in the deep Back bone
And no Smile that ever was smild
But only one Smile alone
That betwixt the Cradle & Grave
It only once Smild can be
But when it once is Smild
Theres an end to all Misery
Smile, Smile, Smile
BY WILFRED OWEN
Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned
Yesterday’s Mail; the casualties (typed small)
And (large) Vast Booty from our Latest Haul.
Also, they read of Cheap Homes, not yet planned;
“For,” said the paper, “when this war is done
The men’s first instinct will be making homes.
Meanwhile their foremost need is aerodromes,
It being certain war has just begun.
Peace would do wrong to our undying dead,—
The sons we offered might regret they died
If we got nothing lasting in their stead.
We must be solidly indemnified.
Though all be worthy Victory which all bought.
We rulers sitting in this ancient spot
Would wrong our very selves if we forgot
The greatest glory will be theirs who fought,
Who kept this nation in integrity.”
Nation?—The half-limbed readers did not chafe
But smiled at one another curiously
Like secret men who know their secret safe.
(This is the thing they know and never speak,
That England one by one had fled to France
Not many elsewhere now save under France).
Pictures of these broad smiles appear each week,
And people in whose voice real feeling rings
Say: How they smile! They’re happy now, poor things.
Come into animal presence.
No man is so guileless as
the serpent. The lonely white
rabbit on the roof is a star
twitching its ears at the rain.
The llama intricately
folding its hind legs to be seated
not disdains but mildly
disregards human approval.
What joy when the insouciant
armadillo glances at us and doesn’t
quicken his trotting
across the track into the palm brush.
What is this joy? That no animal
falters, but knows what it must do?
That the snake has no blemish,
that the rabbit inspects his strange surroundings
in white star-silence? The llama
rests in dignity, the armadillo
has some intention to pursue in the palm-forest.
Those who were sacred have remained so,
holiness does not dissolve, it is a presence
of bronze, only the sight that saw it
faltered and turned from it.
An old joy returns in holy presence.
An adventure is something
about which we all dream,
A journey full of amusement,
A wondrous journey through,
It is our own life in which we live,
day to day is our journey.
We should survive to enjoy,
and enjoy the adventuroy,
This must be our adventure and
Its our LIFE !
Two love adventurers
Welcome the night
Many curves to explore
Trace the unknown haven
Clues spelled out with soft sighs
Finding each other’s comfort
Soul’s feel the warmth to the core
It’s an inseparable embrace
Sending shivers down every nerve
Finally to love adventurers
Exploiting the lovely terrains
Reach the peak of contentment
Now they lay exhausted
After a satisfying adventure