A translation of a bhakti poem as we mourn the loss of and celebrate the lives of the brave journalists in Paris, France. As a former journalist and now a scholar of media studies, I spent a lot of time reflecting and processing todays events: the attack, the response. I have no answers. I did, however, find solace in this poem by Brahmanand (1772-1832). I hope some of you may as well. #jesuischarlie Who but you, Hari? Pain surrounds me--mother, father, bride, offspring, sibling, and stranger. It is a dark time, this Kali Yuga--what value is there for life, love, loyalty? Fear, death, and vengeance motivate (my) mind. Hope? But, of course--if only I can hold on to a glimpse of the sweet past--my time with you, of singing your song. A cure for this cursed moment of separation; a vision of our reunion. Alas, it is Brahmamunis misfortune that he lacks the will to relive that past. . And, the future--uncertain. Come, now. Who but you, Hari? --Brahmanand
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 02:58:17 +0000
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