See what I mean? As a topic, Jell-O is much happier than my “feelings.”
But tonight, since it’s a slow news day—no caves explored, no butter curlers discovered, no local color to crow about—I’ll give you one of these “here is where I am right now” posts. I’ve done a few of these before. I hope you’ll indulge me again. And no, there will be no photographs to “break up” the evil, bad “text.”
I’m typing this entry in bed, and I’m enjoying our heated mattress pad, because I’ve been trying to keep the thermostat as low as I can stand it. Flannel sheets, too. It’s pretty comfy. On the floor nearby (you’d think I’d never heard of a night stand) are copies of Edwin Way Teale’s Wandering Through Winter; Richard Bolles’s What Color Is Your Parachute? which makes me feel hopeless, awful and old, so it's on the bottom of the stack; and Donald Culross Peattie’s Flowering Earth.
Then also, there's my dog-eared copy of the Bhagavad Gita, which I’ve been memorizing, in part. On nights when I can’t sleep, I recite the verses in my head. It’s kind of like counting sheep, only much more useful and comforting.
What else. My laptop is playing music to me as I write: Joshua Redman’s Freedom in the Groove—which I’ve found is really good to edit and write to.
We had some good snow today; indeed, it snowed all day, but it was soft and wet enough that much of it turned to slush on contact, so the five or so inches that probably actually came down amounted to only about 2.5 of the white stuff accumulated. By this time in the evening, however, the slush on the streets is probably frozen. I’m glad not to have to drive in it.
This has been “kicking the tires” week. Dentist, haircut, routine doctor’s exam, got my car’s oil changed, and more. Plus there was more fun: a plumbing emergency that resulted in having a square foot hole poked into our downstairs kitchen ceiling, through the plaster and lathe. The leak was fixed, but now we have some serious plaster damage from the water. Gotta find a plasterer. . . . It’s always something, isn’t it.
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1 comment:
Why, thank you. No, I didn't know about that edition--there are an awful lot of translations out there of this life-changing text, and it's hard to decide which to read. None are perfect, of course, and if one were embarking on a serious study, many versions must be consulted.
This translation by Lars Martin Fosse looks pretty good, from the samples you can see online.
I have been using the famous (or infamous) Juan Mascaro translation from the 1960s, a Penguin paperback.
http://www.amazon.com/Bhagavad-Gita-JUAN-MASCARO-TRANSLATOR/dp/B001PQHH36/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1265514275&sr=8-2
I use it with full knowledge that nearly all the Sanskrit words have been translated and that one loses a whole lot of meaning when trying to translate a word like "Brahman" into English. I completely understand that Mascaro has taken liberties with his translation and imposed his own understandings onto the text.
But it resonates with me. I appreciate the poetry and simplicity Mascaro brings to the text. I wish more people in America would read the Bhagavad Gita, in whatever translation works for them. It is such an uplifting, expansive, and peaceful text.
Thank you again for pointing out this translation. I might have to get it!
Julie
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