zag, zig, zany, zeitgeist, Sonnets 30, 73

Z:  There are only four pages of z-words…the perfect place to start. 

Favorites: 

zany

zeitgeist

zenithal

Zephyrus

zest

zeugma

zilch

zoot suit

zugzwang

zym-

zymology

zymurgy

Favorite word: Zephyrus

zag: the line opposite the zig

zig: the line opposite the zag

zany: [Italian, zanni, a traditional masked clown] absurdly ludicrous

zeitgeist: [German, zeit time, geist spirit]  \zite geye st\  (long i in both syllables)  world view, literally 'spirit of the times' 

   Time…I took a philosophy course as an undergraduate on Heidegger and his main text, Sein und Zeit (Being and Time).  Looking back 45 years, I didn’t appreciate the fleeting nature, the beauty and pathos, of the passage of “zeit”  …which explains my passion for Shakespeare’s sonnets and the underlying poignant theme of so many of them of lost time (Sonnet 30 and 73).  

SONNET 30 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past,  I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,  And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,  For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,  And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:  Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,  And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er  The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,  Which I new pay as if not paid before.  But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.

    SONNET 73

    That time of year thou may'st in me behold 

    When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

    Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, 

    Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 

    In me thou see'st the twilight of such day, 

    As after sunset fadeth in the west, 

    Which by-and-by black night doth take away,

    Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. 

    In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire 

    That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, 

    As the death-bed whereon it must expire 

    Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by. 

    This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
    To love that well which thou must leave ere long.