Naim and religion?

Posted by: Tony Lockhart on 21 December 2012

I won't say what my google search words were, but this was a surprising image search result.



Tony
Posted on: 21 December 2012 by JamieWednesday

They're not the only ones, apparently 'Blessed are The Creek'

Posted on: 21 December 2012 by Jan-Erik Nordoen

Widow of Naim : my wife.

Posted on: 21 December 2012 by Manu

Mine too, about 100 days per year...

Posted on: 21 December 2012 by Jasonf
Hi Tony, I also came across this connection a little while back.

https://forums.naimaudio.com/di...nt/18039306389366779

Seems to be of Hebrew/Arabic origin, very interesting......quite a common name in the Fertile Crescent.

Jason.
Posted on: 21 December 2012 by living in lancs yearning for yorks

Actually Son of the Widow of Nain not Naim, but nice try

Posted on: 21 December 2012 by Tony Lockhart
If there's an error, it's nowt to do with me!
Posted on: 21 December 2012 by DrMark
Originally Posted by Jasonf:
Hi Tony, I also came across this connection a little while back.

https://forums.naimaudio.com/di...nt/18039306389366779

Seems to be of Hebrew/Arabic origin, very interesting......quite a common name in the Fertile Crescent.

Jason.

As per this Franco-Israeli artist:

 

Posted on: 21 December 2012 by Jan-Erik Nordoen

Tony had it right.

 

-----------------------

 

The Widow of Naim

by Thomas James Merton

 

 

The men that cut their graves in the grey rocks
Go down more slowly than the sun upon their dusty country:
White as the wall, the weepers leave the town,
To be the friends of grief, and follow
To the new tomb a widow’s sorrow.
The men with hands as hard as rope,
(Some smell of harvests, some of nets,) the strangers,   
Come up the hill more slowly than the seasons of the year.
“Why do you walk in funerals, you men of Naim,   
Why go you down to graves, with eyes like winters,   
And your cold faces clean as cliffs?
See how we come, our brows are full of sun,   
Our smiles are fairer than the wheat and hay,   
Our eyes are saner than the sea.
Lay down your burden at our four-roads’ crossing,   
And learn a wonder from the Christ, our Traveller.”
       (Oh, you will say that those old times
       Are all dried up like water,
       Since the great God went walking on a road to Naim,
       How many hundred years has slept again in death   
       That widow’s son, after the marvel of his miracle:   
       He did not rise for long, and sleeps forever.   
       And what of the men of the town?
       What have the desert winds done to the dust   
       Of the poor weepers, and the widow’s friends?)
The men that cut their graves in the grey rocks   
Spoke to the sons of God upon the four cross roads:
“Men of Genesareth, who climb our hill as slow as spring or summer,
Christ is your Master, and we see His eyes are Jordans,   
His hands and feet are wounded, and His words are wine.   
He has let death baptize the one who stirs and wakens   
In the bier we carry,
That we may read the Cross and Easter in this rising,   
And learn the endless heaven
Promised to all the widow-Church’s risen children.”


Thomas Merton, “The Widow of Naim” from The Collected Poems of Thomas Merton. Copyright 1948 by New Directions Publishing Corporation, copyright © 1977 by The Trustees of the Merton Legacy Trust. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.

Source: The Collected Poems of Thomas Merton (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1977)

 

 
Posted on: 22 December 2012 by Jasonf
Originally Posted by Jan-Erik Nordoen:

       

Tony had it right.

 

-----------------------

 

The Widow of Naim

by Thomas James Merton

 

 

The men that cut their graves in the grey rocks
Go down more slowly than the sun upon their dusty country:
White as the wall, the weepers leave the town,
To be the friends of grief, and follow
To the new tomb a widow’s sorrow.
The men with hands as hard as rope,
(Some smell of harvests, some of nets,) the strangers,   
Come up the hill more slowly than the seasons of the year.
“Why do you walk in funerals, you men of Naim,   
Why go you down to graves, with eyes like winters,   
And your cold faces clean as cliffs?
See how we come, our brows are full of sun,   
Our smiles are fairer than the wheat and hay,   
Our eyes are saner than the sea.
Lay down your burden at our four-roads’ crossing,   
And learn a wonder from the Christ, our Traveller.”
       (Oh, you will say that those old times
       Are all dried up like water,
       Since the great God went walking on a road to Naim,
       How many hundred years has slept again in death   
       That widow’s son, after the marvel of his miracle:   
       He did not rise for long, and sleeps forever.   
       And what of the men of the town?
       What have the desert winds done to the dust   
       Of the poor weepers, and the widow’s friends?)
The men that cut their graves in the grey rocks   
Spoke to the sons of God upon the four cross roads:
“Men of Genesareth, who climb our hill as slow as spring or summer,
Christ is your Master, and we see His eyes are Jordans,   
His hands and feet are wounded, and His words are wine.   
He has let death baptize the one who stirs and wakens   
In the bier we carry,
That we may read the Cross and Easter in this rising,   
And learn the endless heaven
Promised to all the widow-Church’s risen children.”


Thomas Merton, “The Widow of Naim” from The Collected Poems of Thomas Merton. Copyright 1948 by New Directions Publishing Corporation, copyright © 1977 by The Trustees of the Merton Legacy Trust. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.

Source: The Collected Poems of Thomas Merton (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1977)

 

 

       


Nice connection Jan. you seem to be up on your poetry?