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Painting by Marc Chagall
"MAN'S INHUMANITY TO MAN"
Posted by Hello
Thought for the day-
words glimpsed while sleeping-
like surfing the net chasing down pop culture
like going sliding under the radar
somewhere where its safe
like seeing through your own facade
its a dangerous game
like a bolt of gleamiing light
not everything is up for sale
In my last post I shared with you one of my favourite poems of Robert Burns A MAN'S A MAN FOR A'THAT though written two centuries ago it is still relevant today. Some
poems & art have that quality about them that they continue to appeal to us & are passed on from generation to generation.
There are other pieces of poetry & art which are of the moment they are fixed in time & space . This does not necessarily
diminish their value.
There are those who believe all art should be positive & pretty & upbeat if you like but art should reflect the different
& varying moods or shades of human experience. War & the destruction of human beings is part of that experience whether
we like it or not. Poverty oppression racism sexism ageism murder are also part of the human experience.
Some of these elements are human inventions. Some can therefore be altered & changed & are not necessarily inevitable.
On the other hand Tzunami earthquakes tornadoes hurricans erupting volcanoes ice-storms floods raging forest-fires giant meteors
crashing into our planet are natural phenomenon which we have little or no control over. We can be better prepared for them
but this will not stop the forces of nature from rising up & overwhelming us. What then counts is our reponse to such
natural disasters ;do we simply resign ourselves to these acts & do nothing to alleviate the suffering of our fellow travelers
on this blue rock hurtling through space. What we should do is recognize that these too are human beings with minds souls
hearts & bodies who experience suffering & pain & loss the same way we do & therefore try to alleviate some
of the suffering. The moral imperitive is that we must do whatever we can & with modern communications & transport
airplanes etc. there are no longer the great impediments which prevented & interferred with our ability to help others
on the otherside of the world.
Anyway I would like to share with you another poem by Robert Burns which explores human suffering & " MAN'S INHUMANITY
TO MAN".
Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge
When chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One ev'ning, as I wander'd forth
Along the banks of Ayr,
I spied a man, whose aged step
Seem'd weary, worn with care;
His face furrow'd o'er with years,
And hoary was his hair.
"Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?"
Began the rev'rend sage;
"Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Or haply, prest with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began
To wander forth, with me to mourn
The miseries of man.
"The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
Where hundreds labour to support
A haughty lordling's pride;-
I've seen yon weary winter-sun
Twice forty times return;
And ev'ry time has added proofs,
That man was made to mourn.
"O man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time!
Mis-spending all thy precious hours-
Thy glorious, youthful prime!
Alternate follies take the sway;
Licentious passions burn;
Which tenfold force gives Nature's law.
That man was made to mourn.
"Look not alone on youthful prime,
Or manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,
Supported in his right:
But see him on the edge of life,
With cares and sorrows worn;
Then Age and Want-oh! ill-match'd pair-
Shew man was made to mourn.
"A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap carest;
Yet, think not all the rich and great
Are likewise truly blest:
But oh! what crowds in ev'ry land,
All wretched and forlorn,
Thro' weary life this lesson learn,
That man was made to mourn.
"Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, -
Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!
"See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight,
So abject, mean, and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toil;
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.
"If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave,
By Nature's law design'd,
Why was an independent wish
E'er planted in my mind?
If not, why am I subject to
His cruelty, or scorn?
Or why has man the will and pow'r
To make his fellow mourn?
"Yet, let not this too much, my son,
Disturb thy youthful breast:
This partial view of human-kind
Is surely not the last!
The poor, oppressed, honest man
Had never, sure, been born,
Had there not been some recompense
To comfort those that mourn!
"O Death! the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the best!
Welcome the hour my aged limbs
Are laid with thee at rest!
The great, the wealthy fear thy blow
From pomp and pleasure torn;
But, oh! a blest relief for those
That weary-laden mourn!"
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