Re: [Marxism] Carl Davidson on Imus and Virginia Tech

[Andy <esquincle@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Call Me by My True Names
by Thich Nhat Hanh

From: Peace is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life by 
Thich Nhat Hanh

In Plum Village, where I live in France, we receive many letters from 
the refugee camps in Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, and the 
Philippines, hundreds each week. It is very painful to read them, but 
we have to do it, we have to be in contact. We try our best to help, 
but the suffering is enormous, and sometimes we are discouraged. It is 
said that half the boat people die in the ocean. Only half arrive at 
the shores in Southeast Asia, and even then they may not be safe.

There are many young girls, boat people, who are raped by sea pirates. 
Even though the United Nations and many countries try to help the 
government of Thailand prevent that kind of piracy, sea pirates 
continue to inflict much suffering on the refugees. One day we received 
a letter telling us about a young girl on a small boat who was raped by 
a Thai pirate. She was only twelve, and she jumped into the ocean and 
drowned herself.

When you first learn of something like that, you get angry at the 
pirate. You naturally take the side of the girl. As you look more 
deeply you will see it differently. If you take the side of the little 
girl, then it is easy. You only have to take a gun and shoot the 
pirate. But we cannot do that. In my meditation I saw that if I had 
been born in the village of the pirate and raised in the same 
conditions as he was, there is a great likelihood that I would become a 
pirate. I saw that many babies are born along the Gulf of Siam, 
hundreds every day, and if we educators, social workers, politicians, 
and others do not do something about the situation, in twenty-five 
years a number of them will become sea pirates. That is certain. If you 
or I were born today in those fishing villages, we may become sea 
pirates in twenty-five years. If you take a gun and shoot the pirate, 
all of us are to some extent responsible for this state of affairs.

After a long meditation, I wrote this poem. In it, there are three 
people: the twelve-year-old girl, the pirate, and me. Can we look at 
each other and recognize ourselves in each other? The tide of the poem 
is "Please Call Me by My True Names," because I have so many names. 
When I hear one of the of these names, I have to say, "Yes."

Call Me by My True Names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Thich Nhat Hanh

http://www.quietspaces.com/poemHanh.html
http://www.ecomall.com/greenshopping/workingforpeace.html

[another translation]

Please Call Me By My True Names

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow-
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.
I am a mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am a frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin a bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up
and the door of my heart
could be left open,
the door of compassion.

http://www.earthlight.org/earthsaint26.html


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