Convention for those wounded in love (by Paulo Coelho)

General provisions:
A – Whereas the saying “all is fair in love and war” is absolutely correct;
B – Whereas for war we have the Geneva Convention, approved on 22 August 1864, which provides for those wounded in the battlefield, but until now no convention has been signed concerning those wounded in love, who are far greater in number;
It is hereby decreed that:
Article 1 – All lovers, of any sex, are alerted that love, besides being a blessing, is also something extremely dangerous, unpredictable and capable of causing serious damage. Consequently, anyone planning to love should be aware that they are exposing their body and soul to various types of wounds, and that they shall not be able to blame their partner at any moment, since the risk is the same for both.
Article 2 – Once struck by a stray arrow fired from Cupid’s bow, they should immediately ask the archer to shoot the same arrow in the opposite direction, so as not to be afflicted by the wound known as “unrequited love”. Should Cupid refuse to perform such a gesture, the Convention now being promulgated demands that the wounded partner remove the arrow from his/her heart and throw it in the garbage. In order to guarantee this, those concerned should avoid telephone calls, messages over the Internet, sending flowers that are always returned, or each and every means of seduction, since these may yield results in the short run but always end up wrong after a while. The Convention decrees that the wounded person should immediately seek the company of other people and try to control the obsessive thought: “this person is worth fighting for”.
Article 3 – If the wound is caused by third parties, in other words if the loved one has become interested in someone not in the script previously drafted, vengeance is expressly forbidden. In this case, it is allowed to use tears until the eyes dry up, to punch walls or pillows, to insult the ex-partner in conversations with friends, to allege his/her complete lack of taste, but without offending their honor. The Convention determines that the rule contained in Article 2 be applied: seek the company of other persons, preferably in places different from those frequented by the other party.
Article 4 – In the case of light wounds, herein classified as small treacheries, fulminating passions that are short-lived, passing sexual disinterest, the medicine called Pardon should be applied generously and quickly. Once this medicine has been applied, one should never reconsider one’s decision, not even once, and the theme must be completely forgotten and never used as an argument in a fight or in a moment of hatred.
Article 5 – In all definitive wounds, also known as “breaking up”, the only medicine capable of having an effect is called Time. It is no use seeking consolation from fortune-tellers (who always say that the lost lover will return), romantic books (which always have a happy ending), soap-operas on the television or other such things. One should suffer intensely, completely avoiding drugs, tranquilizers and praying to saints. Alcohol is only tolerated if kept to a maximum of two glasses of wine a day.
Final determination:
Those wounded in love, unlike those wounded in armed conflict, are neither victims nor torturers. They chose something that is part of life, and so they have to accept both the agony and the ecstasy of their choice.
And those who have never been wounded in love will never be able to say: “I have lived”. Because they haven’t.

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Some additional Articles by me or by love, sometimes I get confused who's doing the talk (please feel free to add more :))

Article 40 of the Love convention - Give everyone the same chance like you did with your first love. Don’t let your wounds put obstacles for a new love.

Article 41 - Although the source of love is always the same, its expression can vary.

Article 42 - Don’t try to measure love on a scale. Love doesn’t follow earthly gravity, but has the weight of the heavens.

Article 42 -  Love is like trying to catch a bird. If you have the mere thought of capturing it, the bird will fly away from you. But if you sit still and appreciate the bird’s beauty, it will come closer and may dwell on your shoulder. If you have build enough trust, it might decide to nurture its soul from your hand.

Article 43 - Love between two people is like giving birth to a baby. It will grow over time the more you take care of it. Sometimes it leaves you desperate, sleepless and drives you to the bottom of insanity, but all this and more is always worth the work and pain as its reward is the sweet taste of heaven.

With love.

"Like this" - a poem by Rumi

If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God’s fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to "die for love," point
here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.
When someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

(Rumi)

(Fuss)Paar

Über dem Himmel eine glühende Sonne, unsere Gesichter erwärmend,
ich weiss, dass sie auch im Regen an meiner Seite stehen würde.

Auf der fruchtbaren Erde Blumen duftend in aller Pracht,
doch in trockenen Zeiten trauert sie mit mir bis das Farbenmeer wiedererblüht.

Zwischen den Strassen die Hektik der Massen,
in mir ist eine beruhigende Stille, Gedanken an sie.

In vollen Säälen laute Studenten mit Desinteresse am Leben,
zwischen 2 Stühlen ihre geheimnisvolle Magie.

Filme der Intelektuellen Elite, in Wirklichkeit aber Verwirrung der Schauspieler,
Unkenntnis der Zuhörer über die gesprochene Sprache,
daneben ist ihre Sprache die meines Herzens und keine Vorstellung ist klarer.

Ihr Körper und sein Atem klagend im stetigen Kampf,
eigentlich bin ich derjenige, der beraubt seines Atems in der Leere steht.

Ich laufe auf nackten Füssen,
hoffe dass ihre Seele das Fusspaar neben den meinen ist,
unsere Spuren so verbleibend im ewigen Sand.

The hourglass of life

Time is only a clock filled with sand which can be turned around as often as desired. If the last grain of sand has fallen and careful contemplation has been done, the hourglass has to be turned around again. We get a chance to begin anew or continue on the same path. Well, we don’t even have to wait until the sand has ceased to move. We can turn around the hourglass whenever we want. That means we can begin a new direction of life in an instant. But we should know that no grain of sand will fall exactly the same like it did before. The past has passed. “Olan oldu” we say in Turkish. What happened happened. Yet, two things are No-No’s: First, to leave the lapsed hourglass as it is like a dead person. If we don’t turn it at all, we really will be dead. Second, it is fatal also not to turn the hourglass right away if we start to take notice that the grains have clogged the neck of the hourglass, marking the threshold to our own life. Our time on earth stands still and we become our own prisoners of time. Time is destined to flow endlessly even if in reality human beings try to define it with definite periods and all kinds of absolute numbers. In its infinity without beginning and without end, time stays immortal and beautiful.

So why should we try to stop time? May the terrible past rest in peace as it is smaller than a dust particle and will vanish completely together with infinity. Instead, filling life with new beautiful moments give back much more. It is either a vicious circle or a virtuous circle depending on whether the past becomes our present or not. While all knowledge and beauty is contained in just one moment, it is also true that the same beauty withers away if we dwell in that same moment for much longer than needed. Life is not rigid. Life means motion. All creation is in the object itself, as all life is contained in the seed, but life's beauty dies if sooner or later it doesn’t transform into the next stage. Destination Transformation. The tree is not beautiful if it is never allowed to show its blossom in full glory. The same is true for the human being. If you allow the fertilized semen to grow as a child and later to an adult, it is nothing more than something “undead”. An intermediate level between death and life, something like a zombie who experiences the torment of its material presence without being really alive.

Mankind attains real beauty and greatness only if natural gifts are accepted and lived truly. The author has to transform letters into writing, the musician tones into melody and the weaver threads into cloth. An honest police officer has to transform a real crime into safety, an honest businessman an inefficient economic system into a flowing river of wealth and an honest politician the diverging clash of interests of the people into democratic peaceful pluralism. Be it in a small city, in a state or in the whole world. Everyone finds his important duty within these assignments. The holy task is to give the formless incoherence of things a solid shape of unity. This is a difficult task and requires a lot of hard work. And time. Therefore, let’s declare it as our helpful ally. We have to use time like a warrior preparing for the big battle by understanding and refining our skills with patience. With patience comes wisdom. Finally, the right point of time comes when the blade of the warrior’s sword will come down and free him forever from the chains of time that are haunting all of us throughout our lives.

Let’s stand still for a moment and be aware… Where are we now? Prep time, time to turn the hourglass around if we got stuck or is the time ripe to go into the big battle and break free from the bonds?

Tick tick tick... do you hear your heart beat?

Phoenix of love

A look into her deep blazing eyes
Freeze the senseless talk of my erupting lips.
Yet, the flowing and glowing lava
Inside my heart is not at all silent.

It craves for her soul and nothing
But the fire of her desire can still
The crescendo of the yearning
That is lying in the caldera of my volcano.

I have to burn within and vanish;
Nothing else releases me
From the heights of agony
Into the valley of tranquility.

The power of her glory turn  
My golden ashes into a Phoenix 
Love is rising up and ascending 
In skies of orange and scarlet neverending.


And there we dwell until the sun melts our wings
For we can unite again and again and again...

Der Weg zum Frieden (The way to peace)

 

(This post is in German as I have just written down an excerpt from Chapter 17 from Antoine de Saint-Exupery's "The wisdom of the sands". If you have a possibilty to rent or buy the book in order to dig into life's great secrets, please have my heartgiving recommendation...)

Eine wunderschöne und sehr tiefgründige Passage aus dem Buch von Antoine de Saint-Éxuperys Buch "Die Stadt in der Wüste" (Auszug von Kapitel 17):

[…] Und wenn du ein Ziel verfolgst und vorgibst du erstrebtest ein anderes, und dieses ist vom Ersteren verschieden, so wird dich nur einer für geschickt halten, der sich durch Worte betören lässt. Denn du begründest am Ende nur das, worauf du zugehst, und nicht mehr. Du erschaffst nur das, womit du dich gerade befassest. Selbst dann, wenn es geschieht, um dagegen anzukämpfen. Ich begründe meinen Feind, wenn ich gegen ihn Krieg führe. Ich schmiede und härte ihn. Und wenn ich vergebens vorgebe, ich verstärke meinen Zwang im Namen der künftigen Freiheit, so begründe ich Zwang. Denn das Leben verträgt keine Winkelzüge. Man täuscht nicht den Baum, man lässt ihn wachsen, wie man ihn biegt. Der Rest ist nur Winde der Worte. Und wenn ich vorgebte, ich opfere meine Generation für das Glück der kommenden Generationen, so opfere ich die Menschen. Nicht diese hier oder andere, sondern alle. Ich schließe sie schlechthin alle ins Unglück ein. Der Rest ist nur Wind der Worte. Und wenn ich Krieg führe, um Frieden zu erlangen, so schaffe ich Krieg. Der Friede ist nicht ein Zustand, der sich mit Hilfe des Krieges erreichen ließe. Wenn ich an den durch Waffen erstrittenen Frieden glaube und die Waffen niederlege, so wird das mein Tod sein. Denn ich kann den Frieden nur herstellen, wenn ich Frieden stifte.  Das bedeutet, dass in meinem Reiche ein jeder, den Ausdruck seiner besonderen Wünsche findet, dass ich sie alle darin empfange und aufnehme. Denn das Bild, das ein jeder nach seiner Art lieben mag, kann das gleiche sein. Nur eine unzureichende Sprache lässt die Menschen sich entzweien; ihre Wünsche sind voneinander nicht verschieden. Noch nie bin ich einem begegnet, der Unordnung oder Niedertracht oder Zerstörung gewünscht hätte. Vom einen Ende der Welt bis zu zum anderen gleicht  sich das Bild das ihnen vorschwebt und das sie erschaffen möchten; nur die Wege sind verschieden, auf denen sie es zu erreichen suchen. Der eine glaubt, die Freiheit werde den Menschen sich entfalten lassen, der andere, Zwang werde ihn groß machen, und beide wünschen sie seine Größe. Der eine glaubt, die Liebe werde die Menschen zusammenführen, der andere verachtet die Güte, die nur Achtung vor dem Geschwür ist, und zwingt sie, einen Turm zu bauen, damit sich einer im anderen begründe. Und beide arbeiten sie für die Liebe. Der eine glaubt, der Wohlstand bewältige alle Probleme, denn der Mensch, der all seiner Bürden ledig sei, werde die Zeit finden, sein Herz, seine Seele und seinen Verstand zu pflegen. Der andere aber glaubt, der Wert ihres Herzens, ihrer Seele und ihres Verstandes beruhe nicht auf den Speisen, die man den Menschen reicht, und nicht auf den Erleichterungen, die man ihnen vergönnt, sondern auf den Opfern, die man von ihnen verlangt. Er glaubt, dass allein jene Tempel schön seien, die auf Gottes Geheiß entstehen und ihm zur Tilgung einer Schuld übergeben werden. Alle beide wünschen sie jedoch die Seele, den Verstand und das Herz zu verschönen. Und beide sind sie im Recht, denn wer gedeiht in der Versklavung, unter dem Druck einer grausamen und vertierenden Arbeit? Wer aber gedeiht in Zügellosigkeit, in Achtung vor Fäulnis und sinnloser Arbeit, die nur noch einen Zeitvertreib für Müßige darstellt?

Sieh, da greifen sie wegen unzureichender Worte im Namen der  gleichen Liebe zu den Waffen. Und so ist Krieg, der Seuche und Kampf und unzusammenhängende  Bewegung bedeutet und sich gebieterisch in einer Richtung bewegt, wie der Baum  meines Dichters, der blind geboren gegen die Mauern seines Kerkers stieß, bis er ein Mauerloch ausbrach, um, endlich aufrecht und herrlich, der Sonne entgegenzuwachsen…