No Poet Served The Muse More Faithfully

Posted on November 24, 2021 by Douglas

The poetry world is celebrating the life and mourning the departure of Robert Bly (1926-2021). There are detailed obituaries in newspapers around the country, most notably the New York Times.

No poet served the muse more faithfully

I haven’t read much Robert Bly’s earlier works. I am familiar with his books of ghazals, an Arabic poetic form. One of these books had the title “My Sentence Was A Thousand Years Of Joy.” I bought the book right then and there without looking inside. During this season I had a brief email correspondance with Robert Bly, where he encouraged me to write my own ghazal. He went to great lengths not to dwell on flaws of my attempt.

While he wrote many poems, Robert Bly is particularly well-known for his translations of other poets. Tomas Transtromer won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2011. I believe that Robert Bly’s English translation of Transtromer’s poetry helped that cause. Bly has translated poets from around the world, and going as far back in time as Kabir and Hafiz.

Many people have enjoyed the translations of Rumi by American poet Coleman Barks. In 1976, Bly showed Barks some of A. J. Arberry’s Rumi translations from the early 20th Century. Bly suggested to Barks that he make a more modern poetic translation, saying, “Release these (poems) from their scholarly cages.” If you have enjoyed the Coleman Barks translations of Rumi, you have Robert Bly to thank.

I consider Robert Bly to have signed the defense of his life in the 2010 poem “Ravens Hiding in a Shoe.” This is the final verse.

Robert, you’ve wasted so much of your life
Sitting indoors to write poems. Would you
Do that again? I would, a thousand times.

And in the final verse of the poem “What the Old Poets Failed to Say,” he signs his defense of poetry.

Night after night goes by in the old man’s head.
We try to ask new questions. But whatever
The old poets failed to say will never be said.

I became familiar with Robert Bly shortly after I moved to Minnesota in 1999. I have shared a number of the poems he included in his anthology “The Soul Is Here For Its Own Joy.” At one time, I thought to myself “When he leaves this world, they will say no poet served the muse more faithfully.” I aspire and strive to be as faithful a servant to a noble cause, as Robert Bly was to the muse of poetry.

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Welcome to Mystery of Ascension! We are students and advocates of the the New Message from God. We are members of a worldwide community. We seek to assist the world in successfully navigating difficult times ahead. We seek to assist the world in successfully emerging into a greater community of intelligent life. You will also find some poetry. Find out more about us here. Contact us here.

Approve Me Or Disapprove Me

Posted on October 31, 2019 by Douglas

I am thankful to Minnesota poet Robert Bly for introducing me to the Indian poet Mirabai (1498-1546). She unwillingly married a prince of a region now part of the state of Rajasthan . During her twenties, this prince was killed in a war. She decided to go inward. She found a low-born teacher (Ravidas). At night she would tie her saris together, and climb down the castle walls to visit him. Then she would wash his old feet and drink the water. Her in-laws greatly disapproved of her and considered her an embarrassment. But Mirabai and her poems and songs are dearly beloved in India.

This poem was translated from Rajasthani into English by Robert Bly.

Why Mira Can’t Go Back To Her Old House

The colors of the Dark One [Krishna] have penetrated Mira’s body; all the
other colors washed out.
Making love with the Dark One and eating little, those are my pearls and my carnelians.
Meditation beads and the forehead streak, those are my scarves and my rings.
That’s enough feminine wiles for me. My teacher taught me this.
Approve me or disapprove me: I praise the Mountain Energy night and day.
I take the path that ecstatic human beings have taken for centuries.
I don’t steal money, I don’t hit anyone. What will you charge me with?
I have felt the swaying of the elephant’s shoulders; and now you want me to climb on a jackass? Try to be serious.

Approve me or disapprove me

I share this poem because I believe there are students of the New Message from God who are subjected to the same kind of social disapproval as Mirabai. I want to say “Approve me or disapprove me. I am a student of the great mystery of my life. I am following the Ancient Rite of Preparation. I don’t steal money, I don’t hit anyone. What will you charge me with? I have felt the power of Knowledge, and now you want me to grovel for social approval? Try to be serious.

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Beaten By Bigger And Bigger Angels

Posted on October 5, 2017 by Douglas

I consider unfulfilled expectations to be part of the experience of following a spiritual path. Steps to Knowledge is the book of spiritual practice of the New Message from God. Each of its 365 steps contain instructions for practice.

Beaten by bigger and bigger angels

Sometimes I follow the directions, and beautiful things happen. I get some kind of experience related to the step. I get some kind of insight, a thought I hadn’t thought before. But there are other times when I follow the directions and nothing happens. The heavens are as brass, and the earth is as iron. But maybe that’s part of the plan. Maybe it cultivates emotional intelligence to not get what we want right away.

Beaten by bigger and bigger angels. Rainer Maria Rilke wrote the poem “The Man Watching” (“Der Schauende”) sometime between 1899 and 1902. It was one of the poems in The Book of Images. I consider Rilke to be one of my companions in my Steps to Knowledge journey. He takes poetic licence with the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel in Genesis 32. This is Robert Bly’s translation.

I can tell by the way the trees beat, after
so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes
that a storm is coming,
and I hear the far-off fields say things
I can’t bear without a friend,
I can’t love without a sister.

The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on
across the woods and across time,
and the world looks as if it had no age:
the landscape, like a line in the psalm book,
is seriousness and weight and eternity.

What we choose to fight is so tiny!
What fights with us is so great.
If only we would let ourselves be dominated
as things do by some immense storm,
we would become strong too, and not need names.

When we win it’s with small things,
and the triumph itself makes us small.
What is extraordinary and eternal
does not want to be bent by us.
I mean the Angel who appeared
to the wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when the wrestlers’ sinews
grew long like metal strings,
he felt them under his fingers
like chords of deep music.

Whoever was beaten by this Angel
(who often simply declined the fight)
went away proud and strengthened
and great from that harsh hand,
that kneaded him as if to change his shape.
Winning does not tempt that man.
This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively,
by constantly greater beings.

Beaten by bigger and bigger angels. That might not be so bad.

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My Sentence Was A Thousand Years Of Joy

Posted on December 2, 2014 by Douglas

I remember purchasing the Robert Bly poetry book “My Sentence Was a Thousand Years of Joy” in the summer of 2005. Robert Bly had me at the title of the book. The exclamation point of the book is the poem “Stealing Sugar from the Castle.” The title of that poem would later become the title of the book of Robert Bly’s poetic life of 63 years.

My sentence was a thousand years of joy

Robert Bly has not only written many poems over his long career, but he has translated poems from a number of different cultures and languages. “Stealing sugar from the castle” is his image for his efforts at poetic translation. I share this poem as a valentine to those who are translating the New Message from God from its original language of English, to the languages of the world.

We are poor students who stay after school to study joy.
We are like those birds in the India mountains.
I am a widow whose child is her only joy.

The only thing I hold in my ant-like head
Is the builder’s plan of the castle of sugar.
just to steal one grain of sugar is a joy!

Like a bird, we fly out of darkness into the hall,
Which is lit with singing, then fly out again.
Being shut out of the warm hall is also a joy.

I am a laggard, a loafer, and an idiot. But I love
To read about those who caught one glimpse
Of the Face, and died twenty years later in joy.

I don’t mind your saying I will die soon.
Even in the sound of the word soon, I hear
The word you which begins every sentence of joy.

“You’re a thief!” the judge said. “Let’s see
Your hands!” I showed my callused hands in court.
My sentence was a thousand years of joy.

Normally I would recite this poem, but I have something even better, Robert Bly’s recitation of his poem, accompanied by music and video provided by filmmaker DJ Kadagian.

The translators currently do their work in relative obscurity. But I believe that one day, they too will say, like Robert Bly, “My sentence was a thousand years of joy.”

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Don’t Let Me Forget

Posted on June 26, 2014 by Douglas

I recalled this poem by Rabindranath Tagore as I contemplated Step 95 “How can I possibly fulfill myself?” of Steps to Knowledge. Here is the portion of Step 95 which sparked a memory:

“Only in fantasy and imagination can you possibly even entertain the idea of fulfilling yourself. There is no fulfillment here, only increasing confusion. As the years progress, you will feel a growing darkness within you, as if a great opportunity has been lost. Do not lose this opportunity to realize life as it truly exists and to receive fulfillment as it is truly offered to you.”

Don’t let me forget

I recall Step 95 having a significant impact on me when I did it in October of 2011. I consider this another step to be addressed in a series of posts, like Step 26, “My errors give birth to my Knowledge,” and Step 51, “Let me recognize my fears so that I may see beyond them.” I am letting Rabindranath Tagore open the discussion. This is a slightly modernized version provided by Robert Bly. The original version is here.

If I am not to meet you again in this life then I want to feel that I have missed the meeting, don’t let me forget, let me feel the pain of it in my dreams and while awake.

As the time passes in the black dust of the body, and I get fat with money, I want to feel that I have gotten nothing out of it all — don’t let me forget, I want to feel the slivers of pain in my dreams and while awake.

When I walk up the steps, exhausted and tense after a long trip, or when I climb into some lonely bed, I want to feel that the long trip is still ahead of me — don’t let me forget, I want to feel the pain in my legs both while asleep and while awake.

When my house is all cleaned, and drinks are set here and there, and I hear people laughing, I want to feel that I haven’t invited you to my house — don’t let me forget, I want to feel the pain of that grief both while asleep and while awake.

* * *

My Inner Life Imitates, Drinking In Silence

Posted on May 8, 2014 by Douglas

This is another literary experiment. There are already two perfectly good English translations of the poem “Ich habe viele Brüder in Soutanen” from The Book of Hours by Rainer Maria Rilke. One translation is by Robert Bly, and another translation is by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy. Here is the original German:

Ich habe viele Brüder in Soutanen
im Süden, wo in Klöstern Lorbeer steht.
Ich weiß, wie menschlich sie Madonnen planen
und träume oft von jungen Tizianen,
durch die der Gott in Gluten geht.

Doch wie ich mich auch in mich selber neige:
Mein Gott ist dunkel und wie ein Gewebe
von hundert Wurzeln, welche schweigsam trinken.
Nur, dass ich mich aus seiner Wärme hebe,
mehr weiß ich nicht, weil alle meine Zweige
tief unten ruhn und nur im Winde winken.

My inner life imitates, drinking in silence

Barrows and Macy suggest that the Madonnas Rilke is talking about in this poem are the Madonnas of Sandro Botticelli, like this one:

and this one:

I read the existing translations, and I think to myself “I know that’s what he said, but that’s not what I think he meant.” And since I’ve already railed against complaining, I have to do something about it instead. So I did. It’s definitely not an exact translation, but it says what I think he meant.

I have many brothers, in holy brown robes
In the south, laurels in monastery gardens.
The way they imagine the Madonna – so human
As I often dream of Titians
Through whom God walks as fire.

Though I dig into the rich, dark earth of myself,
My God is still deeper
My inner life imitates, drinking in silence

The life you see springs from his abundance,
More than that is a mystery to me.

I am pleased with myself for following in Robert Bly’s footsteps, stealing a grain of sugar from the castle of sugar which is the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke.

* * *

Sometimes I Forget Completely

Posted on March 24, 2014 by Douglas

It took six hundred years, give or take a few, for Rumi’s poetry to appear in English. R. A. Nicholson (1868-1945) gave us the first complete English translation of the Mathnawi. A. J. Arberry (1905-1969) followed in Nicholson’s footsteps, translating Fihi ma fihi (translated as Discourses of Rumi) and many Rumi poems. I believe these men felt like the man in the gospels who discovered the treasure buried in the field, or the merchant of pearls who discovered the pearl of great price.

In 1976, poet Robert Bly showed Coleman Barks some of Arberry’s Rumi translations. Bly suggested to Barks that he make a more modern poetic translation, saying, “Release these (poems) from their scholarly cages.” Oh, what gratitude I have for the human bucket-brigade of A. J. Arberry, Robert Bly, and Coleman Barks, carriers of the celestial nectar!

Sometimes I forget completely

Sometimes I forget completely
what companionship is.
Unconscious and insane, I spill sad
energy everywhere. My story
gets told in various ways: a romance,
a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number,
it will go around.
These dark suggestions that I follow,
are they part of some plan?
Friends, be careful. Don’t come near me
out of curiosity, or sympathy.

I was inspired by recent events to share this poem. Sometimes I forget completely that I’m not alone, and it drives me mad, as it is a violent violation of one of the great truths of the universe. Please help me to remember, but from a distance.

* * *

I Will Let Love Rule Today

Posted on January 31, 2014 by Douglas

This is the second in a series of three posts regarding the Step 70 review of Steps to Knowledge. In this review, three weeks worth of practice, from Step 50 to Step 69. The first post in the series covered the Step 70 review of Steps 50 through 55. Step 56 was a review. This post will examine my Step 70 review of Steps 57 through 62, with some commentary.

I will let love rule today

Step 57 – “Freedom is with me today” – “I was not very good on hourly practice in this or any of the steps before Step 70 requiring hourly practice.” In my Step 63 review of this Step, I wrote “Freedom is doing what I know, being my True Self. Slavery is to follow my surface thoughts, the surface thoughts of others.” Between then and now, I’ve gotten more consistent at hourly practice by using my cell phone as an hourly alarm.

Step 58 – “Knowledge is with me” – “It is encouraging to even contemplate the possibility that Knowledge knows I’m approaching it, and likes it.” In my Step 63 review of this Step, I wrote “Knowledge desires to enfold my little self in itself. Someone on the inside has heard about it. My little efforts of my little part has caught the attention of Knowledge, my True Self, the God Seed within me. That is a comforting and encouraging thought.” The line “Someone on the inside has heard about it” comes from Minnesota poet Robert Bly, describing the experience of someone starting on a spiritual path.

Step 59 – “Today I will learn patience” – “Observe me without judgment. Observe the world without judgment. Repeat until eternity.” In my Step 63 review of this Step, I wrote “I am so impatient! I want half of America to change its beliefs right now! I damn myself for not going straight toward Knowledge right now! Time and time again I am told to observe without judgment.” I was much more politically opinionated when I did this Step than I am now. Is this a good thing? Maybe. I know I am suffering less about the things politicians say and do. Am I being more patient with politicians? Maybe.

Step 60 – “I will not judge the world today” – “See above. [the commentary on the previous step]” In my Step 63 review of this Step, I wrote “My standard m. o. [modus operandi, way of doing things when left to my own devices] is to judge, judge, judge. When I think that this is the world I have come to serve, I hear the voice of Timon in The Lion King saying ‘Whoa! Talk about your fixer upper!’ Every so often I hear ‘America is in need of the New Message’ not judging America as it plunges toward ruin.”

Step 61 – “Love gives of itself through me” – “Not judging is letting love rule, express itself.” I’m not a big Lenny Kravitz fan, but this song got me. If I don’t judge today, I will let love rule today.

Step 62 – “Today I will learn to listen to life” – “Being present is not judging is letting love rule.” If I am present with others, I will let love rule today.

* * *

Music by Kabir, Translated by Robert Bly

Posted on June 28, 2013 by Douglas

We know Kabir was raised by a Muslim family who worked as weavers in the Indian city of Varanasi (also called Benares).

Robert Bly translated 44 of Kabir’s poems in 1993.

Have you heard the music no fingers enter into?
Far inside the house
entangled music –
What is the sense of leaving your house?

Suppose you scrub your ethical skin
until it shines –
but inside there is no music,
then what?

Mohammad’s son pores over words,
and points out this
and that
but if his chest is not soaked dark with love,
then what?

The Yogi comes along in his famous orange,
But if inside he is colorless,
then what?

Kabir says: Every instant that the sun is risen,
if I stand in the temple, or on a balcony,
in the hot fields, or in a walled garden,
my own Lord is making love with me.

I read this poem, and I cry out “Let the music play within me!” I read this poem, and I cry out “Let my chest be soaked dark with love!” I read this poem, and I cry out, “Let me be as colorful on the inside as the Yogi is on the outside!”

This poem can be found in The Kabir Book

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What Is This Great Truth?

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Douglas

From time to time, I am not pleased with my study of a step in Steps to Knowledge. I have an unhappiness that there is something there I’m supposed to realize or experience, that I’m not experiencing. I feel that way about Step 25 “I am at one with the greatest truth in life” these days. But instead of trying to analyze it further, I’m going to share something which approaches the step from another direction.

I have already shared the poem “Last Night, As I Was Sleeping” by Antonio Machado, translated by Robert Bly. I have had a desire to find music that goes with this lovely poem. The details can be found here, but to say it succinctly, the music is composed by J. S. Bach, arranged for classical guitar by Rick Foster, and performed by David Franzen.

People seem to have taken a certain degree of enjoyment in this. And as I think on this, I think that maybe the great truth to which Step 25 is referring is “my true self is not apart from life, my true self wishes to intensely participate in life.”

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Mystery of Ascension

A great mystery / Is my true self that I bring / From my ancient home

Tag Archives: Robert Bly

No Poet Served The Muse More Faithfully

No poet served the muse more faithfully

Approve Me Or Disapprove Me

Approve me or disapprove me

Beaten By Bigger And Bigger Angels

Beaten by bigger and bigger angels

My Sentence Was A Thousand Years Of Joy

My sentence was a thousand years of joy

Don’t Let Me Forget

Don’t let me forget

My Inner Life Imitates, Drinking In Silence

My inner life imitates, drinking in silence

Sometimes I Forget Completely

Sometimes I forget completely

I Will Let Love Rule Today

I will let love rule today

Music by Kabir, Translated by Robert Bly

What Is This Great Truth?