Im nin’alu daltei n’divim – daltei marom lo nin’alu …
If there be no mercy left in the world,
The doors of heaven will never be barred.
The Creator reigns supreme, and is higher
than the angels
All, in His spirit, will rise
By His nearness, His life-giving breath
flows through them.
And they glory in His name
From the moment of genesis,
His creations grow,
Captivating and more beautiful.
The wheel in his circle thunders
Acclaiming His Holy name
Clothed in the glory of His radiance,
The six-winged cherubs surround Him,
Whirling in His honor
And with their free wings sweetly sing,
Together, in unison
[16.jhd, שלום שבזי – אם ננעלו]
i remember the words once having been said somewhere, about as long as a name is still spoken out and remembered, the owner of it may be still alive. i think, as long as our heart speaks the name and remembers the person, he will be alive, in us and with us, for as long as we are willing to remember.
and yet, when i’m looking around i’m wondering what it is that lets the human race being so intrigued with immortality. is it just the fear of the nothing afterwards, blank emptiness, the same thing that makes us to turn to religion when we think, we might fall into despair. what is it, that let that urge resurface, clinging our soul to things we name as useless, worthless, antiquated … and yet, we’re are not able to let them go away completely. at least mostly not, when we have reached the end of our mortal path.
just like a child clinging to its mother for safety, so do we with those concepts. maybe it also has something to do with the assurance of exactly that, safety. remembering the closeness of the family when we were children, the feeling of being loved without conditions and the knowledge, that no matter what, there will always be someone there when needed to turn to. or is it just the fear of being alone in a world that seems to get colder, that makes us turn to those things?
and yet, all so the more, as the years pass by, all we do, is just going to the graveyards, lightning a solitary candle, laying down some flowers and leaving again. doing just because of custom, because everybody else does it … empty motions without deeper thoughts like so much other things in our day-to-day life. the dead ones don’t have a place in our world of living, they linger somewhere at the farthest corner of it, only to be touched for the tiniest of moments.
because dead is painful, hurts … and yet, isn’t that, what life is about? isn’t life the same in the end, aren’t there also moments that are painful, that hurt, make us suffer?
but for us, as we are to-day, there seems to be just nothing else than the endless path of youth, beauty and all those things related. and in this life, some things have no place, because you don’t want to be remembered of your own mortality. and by pushing that aside, you forget where you once came from … for wandering your path back to that place …