I finished Katharine Rundell’s book about the 17th century author, poet, and priest John Donne recently and discovered Donne speculated that what happens after we breathe our last breath is we are “translated.”
Donne writes, “When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God’s hand is in every translation.”
Isn’t that a fascinating idea?
That in our dying our essence remains – the collected and preferred verbs, adjectives, nouns, and sentences of our lives – but then as we pass from one life to the next this vocabulary is translated into a new means of expression, a language that is appropriate and applicable for the next chapter of our lives.
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