The intellect of man is forced to choose Perfection of the life, or of the work, And if it take the second must refuse A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark. When all that story’s finished, what’s the news? In luck or out the toil has left its mark: That old perplexity an empty purse, Or the day’s vanity, the night’s remorse.
According to W.B. Yeats, we are forced to choose between two: accepting life as it is, and assuming it is beautiful and perfect, like heaven; or working vigorously, raging in the dark and striving. He correctly concludes that if we forgo the heavenly mansion and toil our best, the mark of our toil might still be an empty purse. The end of life is not changed by whatever we do. In the end, we still want to be proud of what we did in the day, but in the night we know that another day has passed, and heaven has not been reached.
I would say we do not have to choose. We can accept everything and also do our best to change things. The way that we can do both is illustrated in the karmic philosophy taught by Krishna to Arjun in the Bhagwad Gita: Do your work, and don't worry about the fruit (Chapter 2, Bhagwad Gita). So in this philosophy, the primary concern for us is working -- we have to do what is right. At the same time, we make sure that we do not expect perfection and heaven as the fruit of what we have done. We should accept whatever comes as we do not have control over it.
This poem also reminds me of Guru Nanak's first pauri of Japji Sahib. Guru Nanak professes that its not by various religious actions that one comes to peace; peace is attained by acceptance: Hukam Rajai Chalna.
What I often said in my talks is that if you are not singing at work, you have to work on your singing.
Kavan Bani Ri Teri Lali - How did you become beautiful?
In "The Song of Wandering Aengus," I believe WB Yeats reveals another dimension of singing oneness. To me, this poem resonates as a song of desire for ultimate beauty. It's a melody that captures the unending yearning to invite beauty into one's life, akin to the dream of savoring the fruits of love and enchantment in the arms of this wondrous beauty. In a way, it feels like singing Ekonkar—the eternal melody of oneness.
Yet, attaining this beauty, as Krishna boldly proclaimed in the Bhagavad Gita, isn't the sole purpose. As the divine verses go, "do your work, forget the fruits." The pursuit of beauty itself, my soul, is what holds significance. It's the journey, the quest, the search—that very path—which becomes the purpose of life, a melodious chant of Ekonkar. Embracing this philosophy, we find inspiration to sing this poem from the depths of our hearts.
As I venture out to the hazel wood, my head ablaze with fiery passion, I embark on a sacred ritual. Cutting and peeling a hazel wand, and stringing a berry upon a thread, I immerse myself in the magical dance of creation, chanting Ekonkar with every step.
As night descends and white moths take to the wing, and stars twinkle like flickering moths, I feel the rhythm of the universe. With a sense of wonder, I release the berry into a flowing stream, and to my delight, I capture a glimmering silver trout—a symbol of the precious and elusive beauty I seek.
But the unfolding tale takes a magical turn. As I lay the silver trout upon the floor, eager to stoke the fire aflame, a mysterious rustling interrupts my reverie. A voice calls me by my name, and I am astonished to witness a vision—a glimmering girl adorned with apple blossoms in her hair. She calls to me with familiarity, and like a wisp of smoke, she vanishes into the brightening air, leaving me in awe and longing.
Though my years have been filled with wandering through hollow and hilly lands, my determination to find this ethereal beauty remains resolute. I yearn to kiss her lips, to hold her hands—to experience the profound connection she ignites within me.
And so, I envision myself walking amidst long dappled grass, forever chasing the silver apples of the moon and the golden apples of the sun—the representations of ultimate fulfillment and enlightenment. The pursuit of this elusive beauty becomes my anthem, my Ekonkar.
Through "The Song of Wandering Aengus," WB Yeats paints a portrait of human longing and the ephemeral nature of life. In every line, he weaves together threads of mythology, folklore, and romance, presenting us with a tapestry of emotions and experiences that echo the very essence of the human soul. As I reflect on this exquisite poem, my heart swells with the desire to sing its verses, to embrace the path of beauty and oneness, and to let the enchanting melody of Ekonkar resonate within my being.
The song of wandering Aengus
W.B. Yeats
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Singing oneness!
