Saturday, 8 October 2016

'O for a muse of fire'


On this Saturday morning I'm struggling to find motivation. I turned to one of my oldest and best friends: William Shakespeare. I don't know what it is, but I see so much of my values and virtues in those plays of Shakespeare. It inspires and motivates me, I would like to share with you today a little bit of the poet. A bit that has inspired me to get out of bed this morning.


I don't know how it did inspire to be honest, because it's the prologue to my favourite Shakespeare play: King Henry The Fifth. Normally I would be all over the place, describing what the meaning is and why it inspires me. But this time, I really don't know. I just like how the words sound to be when spoken out loud.

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that have dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide on man,
And make imaginary puissance;
Think when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth;
For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o’er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.
Somehow I see this prologue as a symbol for my life. I'm in recovery, therapy. I'm in the prologue of the rest of my life. Welcome to the rest of my life.


Marc




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