Вышла шестая книга Теуна Мареза
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Марезовцы. Вот ваш нагваль курит табак и бухает алкоголь. Это в какую свободу вписывается? И какого черта он не делает ссылок на Кастанеду? В своем пасквиле "Возвращение воинов" куча прямых цитат из кастанеды - мильон цитат или перефразировок всяких - и все это вспомнил Марез от неких толтеков? А кастанеда - и не валялялся вообще Марез - прихлебатель.
P.S. Kato. Я тебе соорудил личное сообщение. А молчишь... Ответь что-ли.
P.S. Kato. Я тебе соорудил личное сообщение. А молчишь... Ответь что-ли.
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Цитата:
"Основу Учения Толтеков составляют, содержащиеся в памяти видящих, двадцать одна идеограмма, которые кратко излагают сущность Наследства Толтеков. Эти идеограммы чрезвычайно сложны из-за их предельной простоты. Этот факт, делает их совершенно абстрактными, и, поэтому, их почти невозможно выразить словами. В результате их просто называют двадцать одним абстрактным ядром, слабое отражение которых может быть найдено серьезным и вдумчивым учеником, поможет ему найти глубокой эзотерический смысл этих двадцати одного самоцвета осознания...."
"Основу Учения Толтеков составляют, содержащиеся в памяти видящих, двадцать одна идеограмма, которые кратко излагают сущность Наследства Толтеков. Эти идеограммы чрезвычайно сложны из-за их предельной простоты. Этот факт, делает их совершенно абстрактными, и, поэтому, их почти невозможно выразить словами. В результате их просто называют двадцать одним абстрактным ядром, слабое отражение которых может быть найдено серьезным и вдумчивым учеником, поможет ему найти глубокой эзотерический смысл этих двадцати одного самоцвета осознания...."
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The Twenty-One Abstract Cores
Twenty and one there are,
In both the beginning and the end.
Twenty are the two rings rare;
Each set with ten stones to mend.
Nineteen is of essence gold;
The laughter of joy filled years:
Eighteen of liquid silver,
The tears of nightmare years.
Seventeen warriors enter the field;
The two urns bring their final separation.
Then a trailing blaze they leave, one fiery shield,
For sixteen hath brought the stroke of liberation.
Fifteen is the wayward shadow haunting,
Horned, hoofed, cursed and feared;
Fourteen the bright mysterious Angel daunting,
Measuring an angle new, destiny also feared.
Thirteen moves with measured pace,
A silent witness for the final dance.
With head low in earth and feet in space,
Twelve hangs awaiting patiently his chance.
Eleven, raw power born of the search,
The dream of man and beast.
Whilst turning and turning upon Ten they perch,
Beast sniffing his distant humanity, man his deeper beast.
Nine pauses to sound the fatal knock upon the door,
Setting the shadows aquiver with his light.
But Eight unmovingly holds sword and scales to the fore,
A blinding, confusing display of might.
Seven marks the beginning of a journey bold,
Far and wide, vibrant; spirits high,
Now hero having taken the decision made of old,
Struck in Six by Fortune’s arrow from on high.
Five heralds the great challenge,
How of the two to make one?
Four has conquered this the challenge,
But his silence offers answers none.
Three rules the realm of abundance untold,
In brilliant glory, awesome, breathtaking;
Slowly, silently, it unfolds as it was fortold
By Two in whose word there is no mistaking.
One now stands in the circle’s center,
Fulfilment of the Dreamer’s dream.
Raising wand, he bids the fearful forces enter,
With flashing eyes and piercing scream.
Then from inside the circle, and beyond,
From all around, the great forces gather around the One
Spiralling, echoing across the vast pulsating frond
Of time and space, in obedience to the One.
Suddenly the attention captures
A whole new sound crystal clear;
Cheerful, luring laughter ruptures
Forth from far and near.
He who has no fixed abode nor course defined
Salutes his brother in the center with joyous glee.
“At last”, he shouts, “You have your arts refined,
And so my brother, I need you no longer flee.”
“Hark, brother! For the first ring you hold is everything:
From liquid silver tis true your creation will begin,
But greater still your power within the golden second ring.
So the circle ends O mage, and ending thus you now begin.”
Twenty and one there are,
In both the beginning and the end.
Twenty are the two rings rare;
Each set with ten stones to mend.
Nineteen is of essence gold;
The laughter of joy filled years:
Eighteen of liquid silver,
The tears of nightmare years.
Seventeen warriors enter the field;
The two urns bring their final separation.
Then a trailing blaze they leave, one fiery shield,
For sixteen hath brought the stroke of liberation.
Fifteen is the wayward shadow haunting,
Horned, hoofed, cursed and feared;
Fourteen the bright mysterious Angel daunting,
Measuring an angle new, destiny also feared.
Thirteen moves with measured pace,
A silent witness for the final dance.
With head low in earth and feet in space,
Twelve hangs awaiting patiently his chance.
Eleven, raw power born of the search,
The dream of man and beast.
Whilst turning and turning upon Ten they perch,
Beast sniffing his distant humanity, man his deeper beast.
Nine pauses to sound the fatal knock upon the door,
Setting the shadows aquiver with his light.
But Eight unmovingly holds sword and scales to the fore,
A blinding, confusing display of might.
Seven marks the beginning of a journey bold,
Far and wide, vibrant; spirits high,
Now hero having taken the decision made of old,
Struck in Six by Fortune’s arrow from on high.
Five heralds the great challenge,
How of the two to make one?
Four has conquered this the challenge,
But his silence offers answers none.
Three rules the realm of abundance untold,
In brilliant glory, awesome, breathtaking;
Slowly, silently, it unfolds as it was fortold
By Two in whose word there is no mistaking.
One now stands in the circle’s center,
Fulfilment of the Dreamer’s dream.
Raising wand, he bids the fearful forces enter,
With flashing eyes and piercing scream.
Then from inside the circle, and beyond,
From all around, the great forces gather around the One
Spiralling, echoing across the vast pulsating frond
Of time and space, in obedience to the One.
Suddenly the attention captures
A whole new sound crystal clear;
Cheerful, luring laughter ruptures
Forth from far and near.
He who has no fixed abode nor course defined
Salutes his brother in the center with joyous glee.
“At last”, he shouts, “You have your arts refined,
And so my brother, I need you no longer flee.”
“Hark, brother! For the first ring you hold is everything:
From liquid silver tis true your creation will begin,
But greater still your power within the golden second ring.
So the circle ends O mage, and ending thus you now begin.”
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