Die Wege eines amerikanischen buddhistischen Mönchs
Warum wird man ein Mönch? Die Antwort darauf ist Teil dieses Buches, aber es ist hauptsächlich dem buddhistischen Lehrer Yogavacara Rahula gewidmet.
Winter is Coming
International Poetry
This international collection of contemporary poetry contains poems in English as well as in the respective mother tongues from 51 poets and poetesses.
Von oben ganz Blau
99 „Lebensgedichte“ in fünf Sektionen: Vom Werden und Vergehen, Vom Geben und Nehmen, Von Lust und Leid, Vom Im und In, Vom Schreiben.
Wo der Teddybär lebt
Unerwartete Einsichten über Michigan
Antworten auf viele Fragen und Einsichten in den wunderschönen Staat Michigan, den Great Lakes States, im Mittleren Westen der USA, haben sich dem Autor auf seinen vielen Reisen erschlossen.
Poems 2019 - 2022
Compassion is the keyword in this poetry book. Poet Gino Leineweber says: for all beings on earth. In short: compassion for life.
He wonders: To what end? Who am I myself? What is love? Do we know whom we love? Aren’t we just an illusion of ourselves, like the shadow on the wall of Platon’s cave? Questions that may fill up a whole life of meditation, I’m sure.
In the end, it seems that life has neither entrance nor exit. Time leaks out. The blue planet earth is a mere invention of our brain because all is imagined, except for serenity – the absolute calm. Nirvana.
From Uwe Friesel’s epilogue | German writer, poet, translator
Everything is true
Poems 2019 - 2022
Compassion is the keyword in this poetry book. Poet Gino Leineweber says: for all beings on earth. In short: compassion for life. He wonders: To what end? Who am I myself? What is love? Do we know whom we love? Aren’t we just an illusion of ourselves, like the shadow on the wall of Platon’s cave? Questions that may fill up a whole life of meditation, I’m sure.
In the end, it seems that life has neither entrance nor exit. Time leaks out. The blue planet earth is a mere invention of our brain because all is imagined, except for serenity – the absolute calm. Nirvana.
From Uwe Friesel’s epilogue | German writer, poet, translator