<div dir="ltr"><div>Dear Pedro and dear all, </div><div>after reading the poem you suggested we meditate on, I am listening to a beautiful musical concert and it occurs to me to tell you or tell you that the best scientific paradigm is precisely that of music. The beauties and "possible properties" or the "imponderable variables" of things or people cannot be understood by any exclusively mathematical logic or formula. "No non-poetic description of reality can be complete" (John D.Barrow). Therefore, no more presumptions when we want to approach the understanding of the natural and human universe. Love is a great virtue, and an equally great scientific category. An affectionate and auspicious hug. </div><div>Francesco.<br></div>Caro Pedro e cari tutti,<div>dopo aver letto la poesia che ci hai suggerito di meditare, sto ascoltando un bel concerto musicale e mi sovviene</div><div>di dirTi o dirVi che il miglior paradigma scientifico è proprio quello della musica. Le bellezze e le "proprietà eventuali"</div><div>o le "variabili imponderabili" delle cose o delle persone non possono essere comprese da alcuna logica o formula</div><div>esclusivamente matematica. "Nessuna descrizione non poetica della realtà può essere completa" (John D.Barrow).</div><div>Quindi, bando alle presunzioni quando vogliamo accostarci alla comprensione dell'universo naturale e umano. </div><div>L'amore è una grande virtù, e un'altrettanto grande categoria scientifica. Un abbraccio affettuoso e augurale.</div><div>Francesco.</div><div><br></div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">Il giorno mer 1 feb 2023 alle ore 14:06 Pedro C. Marijuán <<a href="mailto:pedroc.marijuan@gmail.com" target="_blank">pedroc.marijuan@gmail.com</a>> ha scritto:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0px 0px 0px 0.8ex;border-left:1px solid rgb(204,204,204);padding-left:1ex">
<div>
<p>Dear All,</p>
The New Year Lecture is over. We may continue the related exchanges,
of course, but Plamen, our lecturer, has now lost his privilege of
unlimited posts.<br>
Thanks are due to him for his great contribution!!<br>
<p>As a "decompression" let me publish again the impressive poem by
Kahlil Gibran. He pictures so well common intellectual troubles
and attitudes...</p>
<p><a href="https://urldefense.com/v3/__https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55373/the-greater-sea**A__;wqA!!D9dNQwwGXtA!SRzInpYYf0HWYyfzLdz446bu5HBXBTpMzwd_EfnHKX0OUqfZkFRrEPw9eLks2_-Qk913uVYAzZLbAFS99QkEvBPUucYy$" target="_blank">https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55373/the-greater-sea%C2%A0</a></p>
<p>Best wishes to all,</p>
<p>--Pedro<font size="+2"><br>
</font></p>
<div> </div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<h1> The
Greater Sea<span></span></h1>
</div>
<div>
<div> My soul and
I went to the great sea to bathe. And when we reached the
shore, we went about looking for a hidden and lonely place.<br>
<br>
But as we walked, we saw a man sitting on a grey rock taking
pinches of salt from a bag and throwing them into the sea.<br>
<br>
“This is the pessimist,” said my soul, “Let us leave this
place. We cannot bathe here.”<br>
<br>
We walked on until we reached an inlet. There we saw,
standing on a white rock, a man holding a bejeweled box,</div>
<div>from which
he took sugar and threw it into the sea.<br>
<br>
“And this is the optimist,” said my soul, “And he too must
not see our naked bodies.”<br>
<br>
Further on we walked. And on a beach we saw a man picking
up dead fish and tenderly putting them back into the water.<br>
<br>
“And we cannot bathe before him,” said my soul. “He is the
humane philanthropist.”<br>
<br>
And we passed on.<br>
<br>
Then we came where we saw a man tracing his shadow on the
sand. Great waves came and erased it. But he went on
tracing it again and again.<br>
<br>
“He is the mystic,” said my soul, “Let us leave him.”<br>
<br>
And we walked on, till in a quiet cover we saw a man
scooping up the foam and putting it into an alabaster bowl.<br>
<br>
“He is the idealist,” said my soul, “Surely he must not see
our nudity.”<br>
<br>
And on we walked. Suddenly we heard a voice crying, “This
is the sea. This is the deep sea. This is the vast and
mighty sea.”</div>
<div>And when we
reached the voice it was a man whose back was turned to the
sea, and at his ear he held a shell, listening to its
murmur.<br>
<br>
And my soul said, “Let us pass on. He is the realist, who
turns his back on the whole he cannot grasp, and busies
himself with a fragment.”<br>
<br>
So we passed on. And in a weedy place among the rocks was a
man with his head buried in the sand. And I said to my
soul, “We can bath here, for he cannot see us.”<br>
<br>
“Nay,” said my soul, “For he is the most deadly of them
all. He is the puritan.”<br>
<br>
Then a great sadness came over the face of my soul, and into
her voice.<br>
<br>
“Let us go hence,” she said, “For there is no lonely, hidden
place where we can bathe. I would not have this wind lift
my golden hair,</div>
<div>or bare my
white bosom in this air, or let the light disclose my sacred
nakedness.”<br>
<br>
Then we left that sea to seek the Greater Sea. <br>
</div>
<div><br>
</div>
<div>----------------------------------------<br>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
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