What a deep and profound question, I’ll try my best to answer it without a full blown dissertation. I’d argue that one can only know immense joy, if they’ve known immense pain; that in pain one finds what they can endure, what strength of mind and spirit one is capable of experiencing and overcoming; that true growth only happens from moments of great pain; and most importantly, soberly enduring pain allows one to connect with another who is experiencing the same pain, and this allows connections of such immensity that practically nothing can compare. Pain, imo, is the moment where one is blessed with the opportunity to “level up,” not only for yourself, but for everyone else to witness as an inspiration of what is humanly possible.
Pain viewed as a catalyst towards knowledge makes sense, yet pain can be a debilitating experience sometimes, particularly when one is overexposed to it. How do you know when you crossed that fine line beyond which pain is no longer a mentor but rather a poisonous companion from hell?
Hitting me again with another profound question. I’m not sure that you ever really transcend the pain in totality, or that you really can know when you have. I know that I’ve overcome much pain in my life, but it still hurts at times, unfortunately. But that pain tells me that I’m still alive, that I still have feeling, that I’m still weak, and that I still need humility, and that sometimes I do need help, but that I do possess the strength and tools to overcome it, at least, in part. Though, I do think we can minimize much of our pain, for example, certain people in our lives sometimes need to be let go, but the pain that they caused us will likely never be totally eliminated, but I do think that it teaches you to be the opposite of what caused you pain. I think specifically of my father’s father, who caused him immense amounts of pain, but how my father used that to become a man who was everything his father chose not to be, and, in the end, raised his children with levels of such profound love and sacrifice that today, in that ever strange way, I benefited from his pain, which causes my father to experience untold amounts of joy even though he still feels the pain from his father.
Baudelaire and Rimbaud were my favorite companions during many a long night in my wasted youth. Now they are more like a favorite blanket or meditative blaze in the fireplace on a cold night. But I can never read Baudelaire without a glass of Bordeaux and a plate of munchies. Unless of course I am drinking Beaujolais...or Burgundy... or brandy...or absinthe...or...well, you get the idea.
Love the synchronicity of Substack and the universe sometimes. I just posted about not getting drunk anymore just yesterday. Thanks for sharing this! ❤️
Such a passional poem and interesting invitation to get drunk on wine, virtue or poetry. If you imagine getting drunk on wine as a subtle suggestion to sin, you have sin opposing virtue, and poetry to get them together under one ardent breath.
I think that’s it. Feel the feelings, develop some callus on our tenderest emotions and have some fun. See the beauties while working to keep our composure. White wine is for gaiety, red wine is for depth. Red wine with a martini to chase is for emergencies.
I'm glad the poem didn't just stick to 'drunk' in the literal sense. Also support to general attitude for creatives to let loose, have fun, and over indulge, deal with the process of 'revision', like a hangover, later. Much later, in my case.
I love this! To me it says, be present in your life. Be passionate feel intoxicated on alcohol or anything that makes you feel deeply, joyous, completely drunk on all or anything. Just be completely and freely open to the beauty of experience. 🫶✨️
To start with a glass of wine--prosit! A sante’ to health you say. Surrealism tops my glass. Beaudelaire misspelled leaves my glass empty wanting more. Red Chianti and escargot. C’est la vie! Every word I drink to think what I missed yesterday. But today, in the now, I remember.
Drunk on poetry and virtue, yes! But on booze... f that! I’d rather get drunk on the pain this world inflicts.
Some people run away from pain with the help of booze. You choose the pain? Why?
What a deep and profound question, I’ll try my best to answer it without a full blown dissertation. I’d argue that one can only know immense joy, if they’ve known immense pain; that in pain one finds what they can endure, what strength of mind and spirit one is capable of experiencing and overcoming; that true growth only happens from moments of great pain; and most importantly, soberly enduring pain allows one to connect with another who is experiencing the same pain, and this allows connections of such immensity that practically nothing can compare. Pain, imo, is the moment where one is blessed with the opportunity to “level up,” not only for yourself, but for everyone else to witness as an inspiration of what is humanly possible.
Pain viewed as a catalyst towards knowledge makes sense, yet pain can be a debilitating experience sometimes, particularly when one is overexposed to it. How do you know when you crossed that fine line beyond which pain is no longer a mentor but rather a poisonous companion from hell?
Hitting me again with another profound question. I’m not sure that you ever really transcend the pain in totality, or that you really can know when you have. I know that I’ve overcome much pain in my life, but it still hurts at times, unfortunately. But that pain tells me that I’m still alive, that I still have feeling, that I’m still weak, and that I still need humility, and that sometimes I do need help, but that I do possess the strength and tools to overcome it, at least, in part. Though, I do think we can minimize much of our pain, for example, certain people in our lives sometimes need to be let go, but the pain that they caused us will likely never be totally eliminated, but I do think that it teaches you to be the opposite of what caused you pain. I think specifically of my father’s father, who caused him immense amounts of pain, but how my father used that to become a man who was everything his father chose not to be, and, in the end, raised his children with levels of such profound love and sacrifice that today, in that ever strange way, I benefited from his pain, which causes my father to experience untold amounts of joy even though he still feels the pain from his father.
To feel something
There is so much unavoidable pain,
I agree with giving it a job.
~
The changes wroght by pain,
have expanded my own capacity for joy.
~
Also, a stoic aproach
can allow you to build
tremendous inner strength
directly from the grinding
that is ours for free.
Hear, hear!!
Nice
Well with that you always have a muse of sorts, is the way I look at it.
No doubt. I like that perspective.
Draw it now from Eternity’s Jar
.
Come, come, awaken all true drunkards!
Pour the wine that is Life itself!
O cupbearer of the Eternal Wine,
Draw it now from Eternity’s Jar!
This wine doesn’t run down the throat
But it looses torrents of words!
Cupbearer, make my soul fragrant as musk,
This noble soul of mine that knows the Invisible!
Pour out the wine for the morning drinkers!
Pour them this subtle and priceless musk!
Pass it around to everyone in the assembly
In the cups of your blazing drunken eyes!
Pass a philter from your eyes to everyone else’s
In a way the mouth knows nothing of,
For this is the way cupbearers always offer
The holy and mysterious wine to lovers.
Hurry, the eyes of every atom in Creation
Are famished for this flaming-out of splendour!
Procure for yourself this fragrance of musk
And with it split open the breast of heaven!
The waves of the fragrance of this musk
Drive all Josephs out of their minds forever!
– Rumi
Baudelaire and Rimbaud were my favorite companions during many a long night in my wasted youth. Now they are more like a favorite blanket or meditative blaze in the fireplace on a cold night. But I can never read Baudelaire without a glass of Bordeaux and a plate of munchies. Unless of course I am drinking Beaujolais...or Burgundy... or brandy...or absinthe...or...well, you get the idea.
Gorgeous poem. This in particular: In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
Love the synchronicity of Substack and the universe sometimes. I just posted about not getting drunk anymore just yesterday. Thanks for sharing this! ❤️
Who is not busy being born, or nursing a hangover, is dying!
Ha
Not the best translation, but one of the best poems around 🎈❤️
Makes me want to look up the original version...
Such a passional poem and interesting invitation to get drunk on wine, virtue or poetry. If you imagine getting drunk on wine as a subtle suggestion to sin, you have sin opposing virtue, and poetry to get them together under one ardent breath.
Feel your feelings!
I think that’s it. Feel the feelings, develop some callus on our tenderest emotions and have some fun. See the beauties while working to keep our composure. White wine is for gaiety, red wine is for depth. Red wine with a martini to chase is for emergencies.
Hang on, People! All respect.
I'm glad the poem didn't just stick to 'drunk' in the literal sense. Also support to general attitude for creatives to let loose, have fun, and over indulge, deal with the process of 'revision', like a hangover, later. Much later, in my case.
I love this! To me it says, be present in your life. Be passionate feel intoxicated on alcohol or anything that makes you feel deeply, joyous, completely drunk on all or anything. Just be completely and freely open to the beauty of experience. 🫶✨️
I hear the music, I feel the rhythm, I taste the wine, and get the message in Baudelaire's "Get Drunk." Thank you.
There is enough wisdom to save us from this machine.
To start with a glass of wine--prosit! A sante’ to health you say. Surrealism tops my glass. Beaudelaire misspelled leaves my glass empty wanting more. Red Chianti and escargot. C’est la vie! Every word I drink to think what I missed yesterday. But today, in the now, I remember.
Amen!
Libiam ne' lieti calici
Che la bellezza infiora,
E la fuggevol ora
S'inebri a volutta'.
Libiam ne' dolci fremiti
Che suscita l'amore,
Poiché quell'occhio al core
Onnipotente va.
Libiamo, amor fra i calici
Più caldi baci avrà.
Libiamo, amor fra i calici
Più caldi baci avrà.
--Giuseppe Verdi