|Zorba The Greek
||Another ALL time favourite of mine. [:D]
"Boss, everything's simple in the world. How many times must I tell you? So don't go and complicate things!"
I at last realized that eating was a spiritual function and that meat, bread and wine were the raw materials from which the mind is done.
"Tell me what you do with the food you eat, and I'll tell you what you are. Some turn their food into fat and manure, some into work and good humor, and others, I'm told, into God."
[...] I realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm.
To enter that gate and bolt it, to run after her, take her by the waist and, without a word, drag her to her large widow's bed, that was what you would call being a man! That was what my grandfather would have done, and what I hope my grandson will do! But I stood there like a post, weighing things up and reflecting ...
"Every man has his folly, but the greatest folly at all, in my view, is not to have one."
Religion [...] had become degraded in my soul: it had become art.
The great ascetic collects his students round him and says: "Woe to him who has not within himself the source of happiness!", "Woe to him who wants to please others!"
"You want to build a monastery. That's it! Instead of monks you'd stick a few quill drivers like your honored self inside and they'd pass the time scribbing day and night. [...] Well, I'm going to ask you a favor, holy abbot: I want you to appoint me doorkeeper to your monastery so that I can do some smuggling and, now and then, let some very strange things through into the holy precincts: women, mandolins, demijohns of raki, roast sucking pigs ... All so that you don't fritter away your life with a lot of nonsense!"
"It's all because of doing things by halves," he would often say to me, and "saying things by halves, that the world is in the mess is in today. Do things properly by God! One good knock for each nail and you'll win through! God hates a halfdevil ten times more than an archdevil!"
"What a strange machine man is!" he said, with astonishment. "You fill him with bread, wine, fish, radishes, and out of him come sighs, laughter and dreams. Like a factory. I'm sure there's a sort of talking-film cinema in our heads."
I stopped, ashamed. That is what a real man is like [...] A man with warm blood and solid bones, who lets real tears run down his cheeks when he is suffering; and when he is happy he does not spoil the freshness of his joy by running it through the fine sieve of metaphysics.
"`Alexis,' he said, `I'm going to tell you a secret. You're too small to understand now, but you'll understand when you are bigger. Listen, little one: neither the seven stories of heaven nor the seven stories of the earth are enough to contain God; but a man's heart can contain him. So be very careful, Alexis - and may my blessing go with you - never to wound a man's heart!'"
When everything goes wrong, what a joy to test your soul and see if it has endurance and courage! An invisible and all-powerful enemy-some call him God, others the Devil, seems to rush upon us to destroy us; but we are not destroyed.
"What d'you lack? You're young, you have money, health, you're a good fellow, you lack nothing. Nothing, by thunder! Except just one thing - folly! And when that's missing, boss, well ..."
Six or seven months later I had a card from Rumania showing a very buxom woman wearing a low-necked dress. "I'm still alive, I'm eating mamaliga and drinking vodka. I work in the oil mines and am as dirty and stinking as any sewer rat. But who cares? you can find here plenty of all your heart and belly can desire. A real paradise for old rascals like me. Do you understand, boss? A wonderful life ... plenty of sweetmeats, and sweethearts into the bargain, God be praised! All the best."
Alexis Zorbescu, sewer rat
||"Dammit boss, I like you too much not to say it. You've got everything,
except one thing: Madness. A Man nees a little madness or else... he never
dares cut the rope, and be free."
||I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark
of the tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in the case and
preparing to come out. I waited a while, but it was too long
appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to
warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to
happen before my eyes, faster than life. The case opened, the
butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my
horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled;
the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold
them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It
needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of the wings
should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My
breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its
time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the
palm of my hand.
That little body, I do believe is the greatest weight I have on my
conscience. For I realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the
great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be
impatient, but we should confidently obey the rhythm of people and
||“No, you’re not free,” he said. “The string you’re tied to is perhaps
no longer than other people’s. That’s all. You’re on a long piece of
string, boss; you come and go, and you think you’re free, but you
never cut the string in two. And when people don’t cut that string…”
“I’ll cut it some day!” I said defiantly, because Zorba’s words had
touched an open wound in me and hurt.
“It’s difficult, boss, very difficult. You need a touch of folly to do that;
folly d’you see? You have to risk everything! But you’ve got such a
strong head, it’ll always get the better of you. A man’s head is like a
grocer; it keeps accounts: I’ve paid so much and earned so much
and that means a profit of this much or a loss of that much! The
head’s a careful little shopkeeper; it never risks all it has, always
keeps something in reserve. It never breaks the string. Ah no! It
hangs on tight to it, the bastard! If the string slips out of its grasp, the
head, poor devil, is lost, finished! But if a man doesn’t break the
string, tell me, what flavor is left in life? The flavor of chamomile,
weak chamomile tea! Nothing like rum – that makes you see life
||mojot najomilen citat od knigata:
"Ti si da mi prostish, gospodaru, eden proklet pisatel. Mozeshe i ti bednice, ednash vo zivotot da vidish ubav zelen kamen, a si propushtil. Zimi boga."
||The book has been greatly changed, but here you can find a good scope of the real book: "The Life And Times of Alexe Zormpa" a ne George Zorba the Greek.
Please Read On:
Od kade be ti sega so ova[:0]
Originally posted by wolf_pack
The book has been greatly changed, but here you can find a good scope of the real book: "The Life And Times of Alexe Zormpa" a ne George Zorba the Greek.
Please Read On:
||Od originalnata kniga, "The life and Times of Alexe Zormpa".
||Znaci ta ne e ista so ova so e deneska? Sakam da ja zemam i da ja procitam sega, no ako e promeneta, togas ne se izplaka?
||ima prekrasen prevod na Grkot Zorba na makedonski,nekade od sedumdesetttite
otherwise toa e eden od desette najdobri romani ever napisani
||Za informacija postoi samo edna novela od Nikos Kazandzakis Zorba the Greek. Originalno izdadeno 1946 pod naslovot "Vios kai politia tou Alexi
Zormpa" podocna na angliski prevedena ko Zorba the Greek. Ne postojat nikakvi dokazi nitu indikacii deka novelata sama po sebe i ona napisano vo nea e smeneto so prevodot. Nitu gore navedeniot esej go kazuva toa, nitu ima nekoja druga informacii okolu toa. Ako nekoj najde relevanten dokaz za takvo neshto bujrum neka go stavi ovde. Gore navedeniot esej od Dr. Alex Giergoff nikade ne spomenuva takvo neshto.
Postovi koi aludiraat na politicki diskusii, so licni vregjanja, na ovoj pod forum ne se dozvoleni i nema da bidat dozvoleni. Sekoj zainteresiran da go diskutira politickiot diskurs na praviot "zorba" bujrum neka si otvori druga tema na drug pod forum. Ovde nema da bide dozvoleno.
Posebno nema da bidat dozvoleni pisanija koi se samo teranje inat bez nikakvi podlogi, redenje filozofii koi nemaat vrska so temata ovde.
Sekoe sledno pisuvanje i analiza na moderatorot ili na grckiot karakter ili na NYU iti itn, ke bidat izbrisani. Ova e pod forum za literatura, i od nego da se naprai politika, ili ring za prepucavanje megju clenovite na forumot nema da bide dozvoleno. Sekoja ne konstuktivna analiza, kritika, ili osvrt ke bide izbrisan.
Prodolzuvanje na temata od predhodno ke naprai da se zakluci topikot, a so toa samo ke se lisat onie "who do care about the literature aspect" da imaat moznost da pisuvaat na topic koj e na pod forumot literatura veruvale vie ili ne.
||"The highest point a man can obtain is not Knowledge, or Virtue, or Goodness, or Victory, but something even greater, more heroic and more despairing: Sacred Awe!"
"As I watched the seagulls, I thought: "That's the road to take; find the absolute rhythm and follow it with absolute trust."
"How simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. . . . All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is a simple, frugal heart."
"I want you to tell me where we come from and where we are going to. During all those years you've been burning yourself up consuming their black books of magic, you must have chewed over about fifty tons of paper! What did you get out of them?"
"We are little grubs, Zorba, minute grubs on the small leaf of a tremendous tree. The small leaf is the earth. The other leaves are the stars that you see moving at night. We make our way on this little leaf examining it anxiously and carefully. We smell it; it smells good or bad to us. We taste it and find it eatable. We beat on it and it cries out like a living thing.
"Some men -- the more intrepid ones -- reach the edge of the leaf. From there we stretch out, gazing into chaos. We tremble. We guess what a frightening abyss lies beneath us. In the distance we can hear the noise of the other leaves of the tremendous tree, we feel the sap rising from the root of our leaf and our hearts swell. Bent thus over the awe-inspiring abyss, with all our bodies and all our souls, we tremble with terror. From that moment begins…"
"I stopped. I wanted to say "from that moment begins poetry," but Zorba would not have understood. I stopped.
"'What begins'? asked Zorba's anxious voice. 'Why did you stop'?
"…begins the great danger, Zorba. Some grow dizzy and delirious, others are afraid; they try to find an answer to strengthen their hearts, and they say: 'God'! Others again, from the edge of the leaf, look over the precipice calmly and bravely and say: 'I like it.'!
||You exist, and you alone!" I cried in my innermost self. "O Earth! I am your last-born, I am sucking at your breast and will not let go. You do not let me live for more than one minute, but that minute turns into a breast and I suck."
— Chapter 15
Tired at last, I came out of the water, let the night wind dry me, and set out again with long easy strides, feeling I had escaped a great danger and that I had a still tighter grip on the Great Mother’s breast.
When she went by, perfumed and heavily plastered with paint, wearing loud and garish clothes, in the streets of Alexandria, Beirut, Constantinople, and saw women giving the breast to their babies, her own breasts tingled and swelled, her nipples stood out, asking for a tiny childlike mouth as well.
Zorba the Greek. Chapter 19
||AaaAa poso ti si po umetnosva mi trebit mala pomosh od tebe....
Dojde eden choek na rabota kj mene mi barashe da mu najdam nekoja strana so umetnicki sliki ili bilo kakvi sliki od konji... e sega....barashe od gragjanskata vojna vo Sad vo 18 vek....dali mojs neso da mi najdis ...Fala mnogu posho sakam da mu pomognam a neam pojma...barav neso na google ama neuspeshno.
||Sigurno toa bilo nekoj cajkan.
Golem del od umetncite koi gi poznavam go imat istiot problem so cajkanite. (ova ne e seir)
Site cajkani barale sliki so konji, prichinat koja e... nemam poim...
Neli ti teknuva be Dejan... Ami neli koa ke te privedat i ke ti pokazat slika od konj, ili ke ti nacrtat na tabla konj, pa ako ne se kachish na konjot da vidish koj kjotek pagja :)))
Originally posted by ozonce
Site cajkani barale sliki so konji, prichinat koja e... nemam poim...
||Ednash choek ke e ozbilen i odma na majtap ke fatite breeee lugje nelugje:)