On Fish

'As a great fish swims between the banks of a river as it likes, so does the shining Self move between the states of dreaming and waking'- Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (tr. Eknath Easwaran)

Spanish (Antonio Machado)	English (my translation)
Hay dos modos de conciencia: una es luz, y otra, paciencia. Una estriba en alumbrar un poquito el hondo mar; otra, en hacer penitencia con caña o red, y esperar el pez, como pescador. Dime tú: ¿Cuál es mejor? ¿Conciencia de visionario que mira en el hondo acuario peces vivos, fugitivos, que no se pueden pescar, o esa maldita faena de ir arrojando a la arena, muertos, los peces del mar?	There are two kinds of consciousness: Light and vigil. One is to cast a little light on this deep sea, The other, to do penance with a rod or net, And await the fish like a fisherman. You tell me- which is better? The consciousness of a visionary who sees in the deep tank light, living fish which cannot be fished, or that accursed toil to go bloodying the sand with them dead?

On a literal level, this beautiful moment from Life of Pi- on a musical level, the end of Chopin’s first nocturne. I had expected to write more, but I did not wish to become a fisherman.

I will, however, quote a previous blog post:

A young boy, Fionn, finds the poet Finegas fishing by the river, and upon enquiring why, they agree on a most excellent opinion.

“A prophecy was made to me,” Finegas began. “A man of knowledge foretold that I should catch the Salmon of Knowledge in the Boyne Water.”

“And then?” said Fionn eagerly.

“Then I would have All Knowledge.”

“And after that?” the boy insisted.

“What should there be after that?” the poet retorted.

“I mean, what would you do with All Knowledge?”

“A weighty question,” said Finegas smilingly. “I could answer it if I had All Knowledge, but not until then. What would you do, my dear?”

“I would make a poem,” Fionn cried.

“I think too,” said the poet, “that that is what would be done.”

(From Irish Fairytales, by James Stephens)