Quotes About Nature

Water's water and that's why it's beautiful.

If I die very young, hear this: I was never anything but a kid playing. I was a heathen like the sun and the water, I had the universal religion only people don't have. I was happy because I didn't ask for anything at all, Or tried to find anything, And I didn't find any more explanation Than the word explanation having no meaning at all.

What does this think about that? Nothing thinks about anything. Does the earth have consciousness of its stones and plants? If it did, it would be people. . . Why am I worrying about this? If I think about these things, I'll stop seeing trees and plants And stop seeing the Earth For only seeing my thoughts... I'll get unhappy and stay in the dark. And so, without thinking, I have the Earth and the Sky.

The river of my village doesn't make you think about anything. When you're at its bank you're only at its bank.

A row of trees far away, there on the hillside. But what is it, a row of trees? It's just trees. Row and the plural trees aren't things, they're names.

Also at times, on the surface of streams, Water?bubbles form And grow and burst And have no meaning at all Except that they're water?bubbles Growing and bursting.

If science wants to be truthful, What science is more truthful than the science of things without science? I close my eyes and the hard earth where I'm lying Has a reality so real even my back feels it. I don't need reason — I have shoulderblades.

I'm in no hurry. What for? The sun and moon aren't in a hurry: they're right. Hurrying is believing people can get past their legs, Or that, jumping, they can land past their shadow. No; I don't know how to hurry.

It's an already inside outside, The philosophers say it's the soul But it's not the soul: it's the animal or the man itself In its way of existing.

Now I sense the perfume of flowers like seeing a new thing. I know they smell just as well as I know I existed. They're things known from the outside. But now I know with my breathing from the back of my head.

She goes on with her beautiful hair and mouth like before, I go on like before, alone in the field. It's like my head had been lowered, And if I think this, and raise my head And the golden sun dries the need to cry I can't stop having. How vast the field and interior love... ! I look, and I forget, like dryness where there was water and trees losing their leaves.

I saw that there is no Nature, That Nature doesn't exist, That there are hills, valleys, plains, That there are trees, flowers, weeds, That there are rivers and stones, But there is not a whole these belong to, That a real and true wholeness Is a sickness of our ideas.

Sometimes in the evening on Summer days, Even when there's not a breeze at all, it seems Like there's a light breeze blowing for a minute But the trees are unmoving In every leaf of their leaves And our feelings have had an illusion, An illusion of what would please them...

Olá, guardador de rebanhos, Aí à beira da estrada, Que te diz o vento que passa?' 'Que é vento, e que passa, E que já passou antes, E que passará depois. E a ti o que te diz?' 'Muita coisa mais do que isso, Fala-me de muitas outras coisas. De memórias e de saudades E de coisas que nunca foram.' 'Nunca ouviste passar o vento. O vento só fala do vento. O que lhe ouviste foi mentira, E a mentira está em ti.

I was never a keeper of sheep

If they want me to have mysticism, okay, I've got it. I'm a mystic, but only in my body, My soul is simple and doesn't think.

O mundo não se fez para pensarnos nele (pensar é estar doente dos olhos) mas para olharmos para ele e estarmos de acordo...

It's not enough to open the window To see the fields and the river. It's also not enough to not be blind To see the trees and the flowers. It's also necessary to not have any philosophy at all. With philosophy there are no trees, there are only ideas. There's only each of us, like a wine-cellar. There's only a shut window and the world outside it; And a dream of what you could see if you opened the window, Which is never what you see when you open the window.

I was born subject like others to errors and defects, But never to the error of wanting to understand too much, Never to the error of wanting to understand only with the intellect.. Never to the defect of demanding of the World That it be anything that's not the World.

Praise be to God I'm not good, And have the natural egotism of flowers And rivers following their bed Preoccupied without knowing it Only with blooming and flowing. This is the only mission in the World, This—to exist clearly, And to know how to do it without thinking about it.)

Um dia de chuva é tão belo como um dia de sol. ambos existem, cada um como é. Por isso não há vantagem em pôr nomes errados às cousas, nem mesmo em lhes pôr nomes alguns

Let's be simple and calm, Like brooks and trees, And God will love us by making Beautiful things like the trees and brooks for us, And give us greenness in his spring, And a river for us to go to when we end...

And he feels hurt when he hears about wars, And commerce, and the ships leaving Their smoke on the high seas. Because he knows all of this lacks the truth A flower has in its blooming And which moves with the sunlight Changing the hills and valleys

That lady has a piano. It's nice, but it's not the running of rivers Or the murmuring trees make .. Who needs a piano? It's better to have ears And love Nature.