Cowherd Quotes

'Crocco' (Carmine Donatelli), A farm-labourer and cowherd, had joined the Bourbon army, killed a comrade in a brawl, deserted and lived as an outlaw for ten years. He joined the liberal insurgents in 1860 in the hope of an amnesty for his past offences, and subsequently became the most formidable guerilla chief and leader of men on the Bourbon side. (Eric Hobsbawm)

Every piece of information about these statues is totally useless... What. import is it to us if their author was a bureaucrat or a cowherd, an old man or a young person? It is very unfounded to pay attention to these meager ircumstances. There is no difference between an old and young man. Not the least in any domain. Or if he was from Burgundy or Auvergne it's the same. And if he is alive or dead for who knows how long it is the same to us. Between a contemporary and someone from the last century, or a companion of Clovis or the big prehistoric reptiles? No difference whatsoever. We are completely wrong to take interest in these details.

Jean Dubuffet

Why did you fight with my Giridhara (Kṛṣṇa)? You are a young maiden, and my Giridhara (Kṛṣṇa) is but a child, why did you hold his arm? My Giridhara (Kṛṣṇa) is crying, sobbing repeatedly, and you stand [looking at him] smirkingly! O Ahir lady (cowherd girl), you are excessively inclined to quarrel, and come and stand here uninvited." Giridhara (the poet) sings - so says Yaśodā, holding on to the hand of Giridhara (Kṛṣṇa) and covering [her face] with the end of her Sari.

Rāmabhadrācārya

Saying Good-bye to the God of Disease (1) Mauve waters and green mountains are nothing when the great ancient doctor Hua To could not defeat a tiny worm. A thousand villages collapsed, were choked with weeds, men were lost arrows. Ghosts sang in the doorway of a few desolate houses. Yet now in a day we leap around the earth or explore a thousand Milky Ways. And if the cowherd who lives on a star asks about the god of plagues, tell him, happy or sad, the god is gone, washed away in the waters. July 1, 1958.

Mao Zedong

So many green streams and blue hills, but to what avail ? This tiny creature left even Hua To powerless! Hundreds of villages choked with weeds, men wasted away; Thousands of homes deserted, ghosts chanted mournfully. Motionless, by earth I travel eighty thousand li a day, Surveying the sky I see a myriad Milky Ways from afar. Should the Cowherd ask tidings of the God of Plague, Say the same griefs flow down the stream of time.

Mao Zedong