philosophy · poem

Puli: The Hungarian Jing-Jang

Black and white are the colors of photography. To me they symbolize the alternatives of hope and despair to which mankind is forever subjected.
– Robert Frank

I start this post a little bit methaphorically. To help you in understanding, I tell you that I focus on my black mood these days. I observe the life as it is black and white, then sometimes grey. However, I experience my life as being always black, then sometimes grey. Jing and Jang is a good idea: Life comes with good things and at the same time bad things and vica-versa, but it’s only just an idea that seems good and
3colorPuliksounds good… There’s a Hungarian dog-breed, called Puli. You will find it only in three colours: Black (the most), white(usual) and grey(kinda rare). There are some big Puli-fans who keep only Pulis during their whole life – I was one of them. The most of these Puli-owners have white and black Pulis, while I had only Black. This is Life. Life is not like Jing and Jang, life gives you what God wills. I got the Jangs.

Through my childhood, I had many dogs. Except of only one, every dog shared the same breed that is the Hungarian Puli. Puli is a small black shepherd dog, following the Hungarian History since 1000-2000 years. If you ask me, I like this dog because it has a very strong personality in terms of honesty… Pulis memorize only one person and they obey only him or her. For example, my grandpa’s mother had a Puli that didn’t want to leave the room after the old woman’s death; indeed, it bit the persons who wanted to force him to leave. This is a strong character.

Also, I’d like to highlight on another characteristics of the Puli that is common in every dog, and in many other animals… When they feel the closeness of Death, they isolate themselves – they want to be alone.

This loneliness may be for feeling themselves weak and being afraid of other’s attack, or may be just a similar instinctive-unconscious order that makes them having a rest… This rest is useful for the others since they don’t see him suffering.
I see logic in these… Tho; I think this loneliness is the acceptance of Death.

It’s scientifically proofed that loneliness is not just an

5a20e2e7bc62c9cd54e6309c2a0ed808
Edgar Allan Poe (40 yrs old of sadness)

emotional state of mind, but it actually triggers genetic changes which cause illness and early death. Who wants to get example for early death by solitude? Just check the life of any sad-poem writer and you will find -maybe- a healthful family, some poems about loniless, and an early death.

The tendency of poets and writers says that… The most artist got fame after their death. It may sound ironic or unfortunate; however, I see it as natural. Similarly, as I identify myself as a poet… I see myself in the future –after my death– maybe famous in terms of that some class will mention my literature. Inshallah.

In this aspect, I see death as natural. Overall, death is caused by God, not by solitude; even if it is a part of the procedure… Thus, death is given by God naturally and it’s cureless (everybody dies)… I can say that solitude and sadness is also given by God in the same natural way. Its victims should accept it…
This is Stoicism… that is a poetic way of heroic acceptance of the life’s flow.
“Anything can happen, I will accept it.” – 
This is my poetry, this is my life.

And! This is the END of the PHILOSOPHY CLASS, but before I say goodbye, have a look on the poem I just written related to the topic.

Black Remembrance

For remembrance of my grandma’s dog,
A black creature of a green garden-
In which he played as a living black spot,
Till… May God have on him pardon.

Before the day, he used to be nice-
His black face- black hair and a red mouth,
A black jungle used to disguise his eyes,
While he was still playing around the house.

That day, the colour of his hair dropped-
Dark ink splashed on his little soul,
Maybe, he smelt the coming death knocked,
Asking him to leave his bowl.

I understood nothing what happened,
He dragged himself to the shade of the trees’-
Yesterday, he had been present,
Then, I felt his absence as he.. he leaves.

I was angry on him for being in the shade-
I approached him, he growled,
The whitest teeth made me evade,
The next day, he bowed out.

I understood nothing, till now,
Why he disguised his dark face of me-
Why he hid himself under sorrow,
And why he, why he growled at me.

May God pardon my anger on him that day,
May God have mercy on that soul-
Leaving me, as I am leaving today,
May God pardon me in the shade of sorrow.

Benyamin BENSALAH
#benya_poesy

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