Niečo sa aj naučíme. Je to už niaky ten piatok, čo sa dívam na oblohu a stále mi robí problém sa v nej vyznať. Ale to je to čaro. Nedosiahnuteľnosť hviezd, tak ako snov. Hmlisto ich vieme rozoznávať čím ďalej tým viac, ale iba hŕske sa ich podarí dosiahnuť. Nehovorím nutne iba o hviezdach.
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At least, lets learn something. It has been a long time since I looked into the sky for the first time and it is still difficult for me to recognize all the constallations. But that is the beauty of it, is't it? Unattainableness of the stars or the dreams. There is a foggy image of the dreams, we can recognize them increasingly, but only few of us can reach them. I am not talking about stars necessarily.
There is a nice poem which you maybe like.
Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
And yet methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
Shakespeare, Sonet 14
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At least, lets learn something. It has been a long time since I looked into the sky for the first time and it is still difficult for me to recognize all the constallations. But that is the beauty of it, is't it? Unattainableness of the stars or the dreams. There is a foggy image of the dreams, we can recognize them increasingly, but only few of us can reach them. I am not talking about stars necessarily.
There is a nice poem which you maybe like.
Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
And yet methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
Shakespeare, Sonet 14
