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Thanks for introducing I.10, Simon. This is the first of two “domestic” prayers, in which the narrator is at home, relatively calm. In this prayer he exalts God’s glory, and gives thanks for tender mercies. Many more themes can be found in this rich text, and I’ll mention only a few.

“You have sweetened your word…” – probably derived from some biblical verses, for example, Psalm 119:103 “How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” (KJV)

“…every curse is raised on the foundation of your holiness” – reminded me of Chapter 7 in The Favourite Game, where the young Breavman curses God to impress Bertha (just my private association perhaps).

“…you let me sing, though only from this curious corner” – once again, the limitation of his ability to sing, and to pray, something he comes back to again and again.

“…dance with a broken knee” – LC said somewhere – Tom would have the reference – that he no longer could sit at Zen meditation because of damage to his knees. And once again something is broken: the broken hill, the broken Hallelujah… But still he dances!

“…you gave me a crown of darkness and light” – once again we have the crown, and this, and also the next sentences about the numberless forms of God, leads us back to the Kabbalah and its symbolism.

“…to dream, to dream freely” – like you, Simon, this phrase caught my attention with great force. Not just to dream, but to dream freely, that’s certainly something to wish for.

Jack,

Studying without a friend can certainly make you feel bad, but I think we are all doing a great effort to follow and contribute to this wide thread as much as we can, and it is simply impossible to relate to everything. I’ll just add a short word about Buber, following what you’ve written earlier, although I wouldn’t wish it to develop into another side discussion at this point. It is probably a fact that Buber’s writings are more popular among Christians then among Jews. In early 20th century he had a strong effect on the young generation of Jews in Central Europe, but his influence had gradually waned. He was regarded with respect, but hardly with admiration. This also has to do with the way he presented Hassidism, which was greatly criticized for both painting it in idealistic light, and for misrepresenting some of its major ideas. Buber was certainly a forceful writer, and reading him can be a pleasure, but, in my view, like any other writer he should be approached with caution.

DBCohen wrote:Buber was certainly a forceful writer, and reading him can be a pleasure, but, in my view, like any other writer he should be approached with caution.

Thanks for being friendly. What most made me comfortable mentioning him to this thread was Leonard saying.

"I think that our faith is full of atheists and agnostics. I think there are a lot of nominal Jews around, but I don't think they really believe. Not enough of them have really had an experience, have really been embraced, have really felt themselves dissolve in the midst of a prayer and felt that the prayer was praying them. I think these are things that just exist in our literature now, and we pick up a book by Buber or a hasidic tale and these things are hinted at, but in the mainstream these things had the status of superstition

It seemed that Buber was singled out from the bulk of Jewish literature as someone who he thought was at least hinting at what he believed to be most important. Wouldn't you say so?

Well, only 41 to go Thank you, BoHo, I'll write you later an email;-) Yesterday I spent day polishing #2, 6, 8, and 23 in my language:-)

Random thoughts on this one (indeed, Simon, we need stick to the topic as I simply lost my mind in last few pages of this thread and wasn't able to follow so many directions).


You have sweetened your word on my lips.

I think that our lyric subject is finally coming to some place. His word (belonging to You, although written with small "y") is now sweetened on the lips of writer who's praying. While, folowing link Torah=words(=world), word, His word, is ultimate emanation of His Mercy. (Btw, I read much articles re: difference between mercy and grace, misericordia and gratia, because those words are almost synonims in Slavic languages, at leats in daily use. Thank God I have Lexicon of Religion Terms, national edition, amazing reference book.)

My son too has heard the song that does not belong to him.
I will NOT say that son and daughter enter the scene (and later we will see the cat, known from Hydra photos from the period), as this would mean I am too literate and attached to outside context, while only text is important. - But his son, who's present in the room while this prayer (as I will refer from now on to pieces as prayers instead of psalms) was written down. Why his son has hear God's words that do NOT belong to him? Why the Word, when finally is spoken, does not belong to everyone? Or each man has to heard his own word, find his own way to speak to the Divine without a veil, to learn his individual way of praying?

From Abraham to Augustine, the nations have not known you, though every cry, every curse is raised on the fondation of your holiness.

Here we are, I think that society enters the scene. Nations as subjects are introduced to the book, as we will later hear few prayers which deals with political topics, pronouncing Israel and all nations who call themselves Israel.

(And "Israel" is also not only "lower choir" as Doron teached us, or at least me, but Catholic Church and every kind of Catholic mass, gathering, is called Israel. What reminds me on last line of #6 - "Blessed be the name of the glory of the kingdom forever and forever" what's line not only from Jewish prayer, as Doron said, but it's also Catholic line, as Matt said - namely, as my memory serves me, it is said on *every* mass. This line is said by the priest, while people answer Amen.)

Back to this sentence, the important notion is that nations haven't knew God or his Word although every cry was made with Him as the foundation of every action. Whatever was done, nations did not become one with Him, secular and sacred stayed divided one from another, state from the church, faith and society did not connect one to another. I believe here lays, for Cohen, the main source of social crisis, known from The Future and Democracy (in which - Jurica analysed this in Berlin /credits/) - "women kneel to pray on well of dissapointments", and those wells are churches - wells with holy water!)
Why "to Augustine", I guess it's only the rhythm (from A to A), as St. Augustine's time is 4/5th century. Of course, my wild guess is that Cohen is well introduced into his writings (The Confessions, probably the first example of autobiography in literature at all).

You placed me in this mystery and you let me sing, though only from this curious corner. You bound me to my fingerprints, as you bind every man, except the ones who need no binding. You led me to this field where I can dance with a broken knee.
"This mistery" is the mundane world, our world, or the act of writing, or the moment of writing itself (night, room, son and daughter). Again, I think here's the mention of Zen approach - only when we stop fighting, we win. We discussed this much ealrier in this thread (when subject was "the will"), and this is more connected with late Cohen's work, Ten New Songs etc. In this moment I got an idea that this late coming to terms with the world began actually exactly here, in Book of Mercy, in around 1983-5, and with songs like "Night Comes On" ("go back, go back to the world", make your peace, find your way). So here's again that (zen) contradictory - his place is the "curious corner", and he binds every man except the ones who need no binding. He has showed him the way to that corner, where the word is finally sweetened (mercy has been found, although maybe only for the moment), but he dances there with a broken knee, like in true koan.
Also, "bound me to my fingerprints". One is bound to his fingerptints as the fingerptints are unique mark of someone's identity, so he's bind to his identity, to the one who he really and only is or can be. Also, he's bound to his fingers, that is, his writing.

You led me safely to this night, you gave me a crown of darkness and light, and tears to greet my enemy.
Word has been sweetened, "Torah sang to him" and gave him the crown. Crown of darkness and light (two essences of the world), like shield of loneliness. I think something similar is going on as before in the prayers, when Torah sang to him.

Who can tell of your glory, who can number your forms, who dares expound the interior life of god?
The section above, and this one, fall, I feel, in field of mistery, mystical dimensions. It says what it says, nothing more. Who can tell, who will dare, and Jack is right when he notes this is the question mark there. Only I can mark "who can number your forms"; all this emanations, all what's good and sweetened in this prayer, from night to children and sleep, are emanations of God, few of his many numberless forms. And it's the bridge to the conclusion.

And now you feed my household, you gather them to sleep, to dream, to dream freely, you surround them with the fence of all that I have seen. Sleep, my son, my small daughter, sleep – this night, this mercy has no boundaries.
After the previous question, which cannot be answered, he turns back to God's forms - acts of everyday comfort, signs of consolation, marks of His mercy. Household is fed, gathered to night sleep, son's sleep, little daughter's sleep. The mercy this night indeed has no limits, and main words, even Utopian claim, is "to dream, to dream freely".

I guess this prayer calls for congenial, emotional or poetical response. [Or it's just my lack of powers for the interpretation.] "You gather them to sleep, to dream, to dream freely" means exactly what it means, and only conclusion I see is that in moment of #10 our poet is consolated for the moment, at least for a night, and he has found way to recognise the mercy in sleep of his children and comforted household. Maybe this was right place to understand that's the true mercy? But heart is never at ease (not to say that it bakes like shish kebab;-) But we have beautiful image out there: comforted beggar (=man who prays) in the night, while there's uninhibited freedom in his children's dreams.

This was a very lovely interpretation, Tom. Comforting images and words, even when used in a different direction, tend to have the same effect on the reader of them. I'm glad to see you joining in more.

I'll be very interested to read your review of Book of Longing, Judith .


~ Lizzy

Great analysis, Tom, and thanks for touching on some points I avoided earlier. I still can’t figure out some points. The modus seems to have changed in this and the coming prayers, and I feel there is less I can hold on to. Your observations help, but there are still things which are difficult to explain; why “My son too has heard the song that does not belong to him”? This is quite strange.

And do you have the reference to the “broken knee” I’ve mentioned in my earlier posting?

Reading through it again and again, I was reminded of another biblical allusion that might be in the background for the following lines:

You led me to this field where I can dance with a broken knee. You led me safely to this night, you gave me a crown of darkness and light, and tears to greet my enemy.

I refer to Genesis 32-33; in these chapters Jacob is returning to his homeland with his wives and children, dreading the meeting with his brother Esau, whom he cheated many years earlier. He crosses the river in the night, and then something strange happens. Here I quote from chapter 32, verses 25-32, in the JPS translation:

Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob's hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then he said, "Let me go, for dawn is breaking." But he answered, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." Said the other, "What is your name?" He replied, "Jacob." Said he, "Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed." Jacob asked, "Pray tell me your name." But he said, "You must not ask my name!" And he took leave of him there. So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, "For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved." The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping on his hip.

Jacob has to struggle with God face to face, through the long night; he comes out physically broken but spiritually uplifted, a new human being with a new name. In the next chapter he meets his brother, who comes along with four hundred men, apparently ready to take revenge, but then, in 33:4:

Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him and, falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept.

So the enemies greet each other with tears. Don’t we wish it could be so! Peace.

mat james wrote:Jack, you say

That is why for me there is only one name that I can think of that can be called Blessed in the way that Leonard describes.

I don't mean to offend, but I always squirm a bit when Christians or Hindus or Buddhists etc say this sort of thing. It is obviously true for you, but I still squirm.

Jesus was pointing his followers to "The Father".
I think Leonard is refering to the same entity (God) in 1.9.
It is my opinion that Jesus would squirm a bit too when/if he hears people talking that way. I suggest that he would re-direct your attentions and longings to "The Father" the "I am Who Am", God.....the creator.

I say this with utmost respect Jack.

Matj

I would like to add something else to this Mat

In Luke 18 someone called Jesus good and Jesus replied "Why do you call me good? There is no one good but one, that is God"

In Luke 19 people were speaking of Him as Blessed and so those close to Him asked him why he wasn't rebuking them and he replied that if they were silent that the stones would cry out. I thought that was an interesting distinction that he made.

Tom, I go along with your interpretation here. Beautifuly sensitive. Children have this kind of grace that occasionly throws you out of the struggling mode of constantly trying to make sense out of things, and all of the sudden their simple presence transforms the instant into bliss. Mercy in those moments is a quality of presence to that instant. Just being there, fully there, with a profound trust that all is fine and perfect. In this it may be close the Buddhist enlightment. Living with children is a priviledge, and bedtime stories and lullabies ought to be accounted for our most sacred moments.

My favorite LC picture by far has always been the one where Leonard reads Peter Pan to Adam and Lorca.

Sleep, my son, my small daughter, sleep – this night, this mercy has no boundaries.

Who can tell of your glory, who can number your forms, who dares expound the interior life of god?

I interpret Who can tell?, as who dares say they understand the meaning of all this. And that reminds me of something Jack Fate (Bob Dyland) says at the end of the movie Masked and Anonymous:

Sometimes it's not enough to know the meaning of things.
Sometimes we have to know what things don't mean as well.
Like what does it mean to know what the person you love is capable of.

Things fall appart, especially all the neat order of rules and laws.
The way we look at the world is the way we really are.
See it from a fair God and every thing looks cheerfull.
Climb to a higher plateau and you'll see plunder and murder.

Thruth and beauty are in the eyes of the beholder.
I stoped trying to figure everything out a long time ago.

Doron reference to the knee incident is from the Matrix interview. It is on the first page of the thread.

LC- It wasn’t Reform. It was right-wing Conservative. I didn’t learn so much about this written tradition, but I learned a lot about the responsability and the love of the tradition – because the people really loved it. These were real events – the Hebrew calendar that was celebrated, Hanukah… A deep love was being manifested and these were the terms in which we met. That was how it was expressed. What I missed in the tradition was that nobody ever spoke to me about methods, about meditations. I was hungry as a young man – I wanted to go into a system a little more thoroughly. I wanted to be exposed to a different kind of mind. I didn’t find that. Eventually I bumped into an elderly Japonese gentleman who happened to be a Zen master --Roshi -- and I began to study with him on and off – sometimes longer periods, sometimes shorter periods – and it was within that tradition that I found out what the inside of religious tradition is, what religious practice is. After many years of that investigation, I hurt my knee. I think I ran into a wall. I was doing some kind of fancy yoga exercise. I don’t remember what happened, but I tore the miniscus, the cartilage under the knee bone and I couldn’t sit in the zendo. I couldn’t sit formally. Because I couldn’t sit, I started studying Judaism in a more or less deliberate way. This would be late, around ’75-’76, more like ’76. I don’t want to dignify this by « very serious », but I began reading; then I began practising within my own terms, leading what I could understand of as a Jewish life, given the circumstances. I began saying morning prayers, putting on tefillin, I began to practice.

Hi Simon ~

I can't view the photo until I get home; however, regarding that one line, as I read it, I get from it that the "dare" is placed precisely where it's intended [my biggest 'clue,' of course, being that it's Leonard who put it there ], and that what precedes it ~ "Who can tell of your glory, who can number your forms" ~ has to do with the capacity to do so, the capacity of one's imagination being so limited in this regard, in that the 'reality' so far exceeds anything any one person or even group of people in this realm could ever possibly hope to imagine. The "dares" comes in then [for me] as a reiteration of that which I've already said, yet with an element of suggested 'arrogance' should one actually believe they can "expound" [express with words], having 'nailed it,' the unfathomable vastness of the "interior life of god." The word "dare" does also have the connotation of capacity, but less so... and "who dares" for me suggests 'who would dare [think they were actually capable] take on [of taking on] such an impossible task.' There's somehow an implied sort of arrogance in that, should they even try. Okay, so I'm getting real redundant now.


~ Lizzy

Psalm I.10

Who can tell of your glory, who can number your forms, who dares expound the interior life of god?

Well Jesus dared and he did it in a way that fits so very gently into Leonard's prayer.

He took a small child and brought him into the midst of those gathered around and expounded the interior life of God. He said that it was the will of God that not one single one of these children should perish. He said that the same was true of everyone who bacame like them.

Maybe that is why Leonard told his small children to sleep under a mercy that has no boundries.

Jack

"Dare to be naive" Bucky Fuller

For his age, he's wise
He's got his mother's eyes
There's gladness in his heart
He's young and he's wild
My only prayer is, if I can't be there,
Lord, protect my child

As his youth now unfolds
He is centuries old
Just to see him at play makes me smile
No matter what happens to me
No matter what my destiny
Lord, protect my child

While the world is asleep
You can look at it and weep
Few things you find are worthwhile
And though I don't ask for much
No material things to touch
Lord, protect my child

He's young and on fire
Full of hope and desire
In a world that's been raped, raped and defiled
If I fall along the way
And can't see another day
Lord, protect my child

There'll be a time I hear tell
When all will be well
When God and man will be reconciled
But until men lose their chains
And righteousness reigns
Lord, protect my child


Copyright © 1983 Special Rider Music

by Bob Dylan

Yes, you're right, Jack, in that Jesus did do that; my thoughts were secular, as I described my take on it. So, do you feel Leonard was pointing to Jesus as he wrote this; and as, perhaps, the only one who "dares" do such a thing? Or, are you feeling with this that the same is open to everyone to "dare"?

Thanks.


~ Lizzy

lizzytysh wrote:Yes, you're right, Jack, in that Jesus did do that; my thoughts were secular, as I described my take on it. So, do you feel Leonard was pointing to Jesus as he wrote this; and as, perhaps, the only one who "dares" do such a thing? Or, are you feeling with this that the same is open to everyone to "dare"?

I can only talk about my own experience. I remember very clearly that the very first question that came to my mind when I saw the end drawing near was "What is going to happen to the children?" I asked the guy standing next to me and he looked at me like I was nuts. I guess he wasn't the guy to ask. I try not to underestimate the value of the questions that I am given, you never can tell, it might be a way out.

Jack
"Everybody's wearing a disguise
To hide what they've got left behind their eyes.
But me, I can't cover what I am
Wherever the children go I'll follow them" Bob Dylan

Simon, your last post is a gem. Yes, nobody needs to wonder what mercy or love is when they look into the eyes of their child.

Mercy in those moments is a quality of presence to that instant.

Thanks,

Diane

I'm home now and am for the first time ever seeing that photo of Leonard reading Peter Pan to Adam and Lorca. I understand why it's your favourite, Simon... even moreso knowing that it was more than just a photograph, it was the reality of their relationships that stood the test of time, in ways that not all children and their fathers do in divided homes. Thanks so much for placing it here, Simon. It works well in bringing those lines to life.


~ Lizzy