It is the only place I will be able to return to.
It is the beginning and the end of nature.
The mountain of my homeland.
The village where my father was born is in the mountains,
the town where my mother was born is surrounded by mountains.
Always the sun and moon rise from the peak and set in the ridge.
Saturday, 29 June 2019
Friday, 28 June 2019
Old Spookses' Pass - Isabella Valancy Crawford
I.
We'd camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,--
Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me.
Right smart at throwin' a lariat
Was them two fellers, as ever I see;
An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar
With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule,
Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar
Would hev made an' or'nary feller a fool.
We'd camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,--
Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me.
Right smart at throwin' a lariat
Was them two fellers, as ever I see;
An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar
With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule,
Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar
Would hev made an' or'nary feller a fool.
Thursday, 27 June 2019
The Loreley - Heinrich Heine
I know not what evermore grieves me,
What makes me sorrow so:
A tale of old times never leaves me,
A tale of long ago.
What makes me sorrow so:
A tale of old times never leaves me,
A tale of long ago.
Wednesday, 26 June 2019
+ANTINOUS+: A Poem - Fernando Pessoa
It rained outside right into Hadrian's soul.
The boy lay dead
On the low couch, on whose denuded whole,
To Hadrian's eyes, that at their seeing bled,
The shadowy light of Death's eclipse was shed.
The boy lay dead
On the low couch, on whose denuded whole,
To Hadrian's eyes, that at their seeing bled,
The shadowy light of Death's eclipse was shed.
Tuesday, 25 June 2019
The Star Wizard's Legacy - Vasko Popa
He left behind his words
Lovelier than the world
No one dares look at them
Lovelier than the world
No one dares look at them
Monday, 24 June 2019
You Will Hear Thunder - Anna Akhmatova
You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
Sunday, 23 June 2019
The Nut Garden - Joseph Gikatilla
The Nut Garden holds things felt and thought,
and feeling for thought is always a palace —
and feeling for thought is always a palace —
Saturday, 22 June 2019
Too Lazy To Be Ambitious - Taigu Ryokan
Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
I let the world take care of itself.
Friday, 21 June 2019
Summer Paintings in Europe - Floss M. Jay
Oh – and these are not paintings:
This shoulder of wheaten gold
tumbling across the low hill
susceptible to breeze and wind
as Van Gogh predicted.
This shoulder of wheaten gold
tumbling across the low hill
susceptible to breeze and wind
as Van Gogh predicted.
Thursday, 20 June 2019
Oh when will autumn moon and spring flowers end? - Li Yu
Oh when will autumn moon and spring flowers end?
Wednesday, 19 June 2019
Beyond Siberia Again Siberia - Regina Derieva
Beyond Siberia again Siberia,
beyond impenetrable forest again forest.
And beyond it waste ground,
where a blizzard of snow breaks loose.
beyond impenetrable forest again forest.
And beyond it waste ground,
where a blizzard of snow breaks loose.
Tuesday, 18 June 2019
Every Time I Kiss You - Nizar Qabbani
Every time I kiss you
After a long separation
After a long separation
Monday, 17 June 2019
The Friend - Francisca Stoecklin
You are so far away.
The space that parts our gaze
Cannot be bridged
in a single day.
The space that parts our gaze
Cannot be bridged
in a single day.
Sunday, 16 June 2019
Raga Dhanashri - Pipa
The body is God,
the body is the temple,
the body is the worshiper,
the body is the sacred shrine.
The body is the incense,
the lamp, the sacred offerings;
it is the body I worship
with broken petals.
the body is the temple,
the body is the worshiper,
the body is the sacred shrine.
The body is the incense,
the lamp, the sacred offerings;
it is the body I worship
with broken petals.
Saturday, 15 June 2019
The Demon Snow-Shoes (A Legend of Kiandra) - Barcroft Henry Boake
The snow lies deep on hill and dale,
In rocky gulch and grassy vale,
The tiny, trickling, tumbling falls
Are frozen ’twixt their rocky walls
That grey and brown look silent down
Upon Kiandra’s shrouded town.
In rocky gulch and grassy vale,
The tiny, trickling, tumbling falls
Are frozen ’twixt their rocky walls
That grey and brown look silent down
Upon Kiandra’s shrouded town.
Friday, 14 June 2019
The Steppe - Boris Pasternak
How lovely those journeys into quiet!
Boundless the steppe, like a seascape,
ants rustle, and the feather-grass sighs,
mosquitoes go whining through space.
Boundless the steppe, like a seascape,
ants rustle, and the feather-grass sighs,
mosquitoes go whining through space.
Thursday, 13 June 2019
Easy - Paul Éluard
Easy and beautiful under
your eyelids
As the meeting of pleasure
Dance and the rest
your eyelids
As the meeting of pleasure
Dance and the rest
Wednesday, 12 June 2019
The Quality of Life - Publius Annius Florus
Bacchus, of the vine revealer, let thy fullness aid the vine:
Send the dulcet juice aflowing which no nectar can outshine.
Grant it ever-mellowing storage lest in veins inimical
It produce a smack of roughness turned to vinegar withal.
Send the dulcet juice aflowing which no nectar can outshine.
Grant it ever-mellowing storage lest in veins inimical
It produce a smack of roughness turned to vinegar withal.
Tuesday, 11 June 2019
Love's despair - Dermot O'Curnan
I am desolate,
Bereft by bitter fate;
No cure beneath the skies can save me,
No cure on sea or strand,
Nor in any human hand—
But hers, this paining wound who gave me.
Bereft by bitter fate;
No cure beneath the skies can save me,
No cure on sea or strand,
Nor in any human hand—
But hers, this paining wound who gave me.
Monday, 10 June 2019
Go, dream no more - Pamelia Sarah Yule
Go, dream no more of a sun-bright sky
With never a cloud to dim!—
Thou hast seen the storm in its robes of night,
Them hast felt the rush of the whirlwind's might,
Thou hast shrunk from the lightning's arrowy flight,
When the Spirit of Storms went by!
With never a cloud to dim!—
Thou hast seen the storm in its robes of night,
Them hast felt the rush of the whirlwind's might,
Thou hast shrunk from the lightning's arrowy flight,
When the Spirit of Storms went by!
Sunday, 9 June 2019
Bermuda triangle - Ivan Borislavov
Did I dream I was flying over the Bermuda triangle?
Below me the stars were reeling –
the lights of the heavenly airport.
And the airplane – a Southern Cross on fire –
engraved in the vortex of night.
I was ablaze with fire – other than this I can't remember anything.
Below me the stars were reeling –
the lights of the heavenly airport.
And the airplane – a Southern Cross on fire –
engraved in the vortex of night.
I was ablaze with fire – other than this I can't remember anything.
Saturday, 8 June 2019
The lay of Our Lady (IV) - Frauenlob
Do not deny,
Too shy, the joy,
When he thee did ply —
Too shy, the joy,
When he thee did ply —
Friday, 7 June 2019
Blood Money - Syl Cheney-Coker
Along the route of this river,
with a little luck, we shall chance upon
our brothers' fortune, hidden with that cold smile
Thursday, 6 June 2019
The Feast - Dorian Haarhoff
I have laid the round table
and set the seven-bit candle stick, centre-piece.
the hour is late. the chairs stand empty.
the invited guests have not come
nor sent regrets.
and set the seven-bit candle stick, centre-piece.
the hour is late. the chairs stand empty.
the invited guests have not come
nor sent regrets.
Wednesday, 5 June 2019
The essence of this world - Rudaki
May the world please our lord. May he live long.
May no accidents befall him.
May no accidents befall him.
Tuesday, 4 June 2019
To a Dead Crow - Kasiprasad Ghose
Gay minstrel of the Indian clime!
How oft at morning's rosy prime
When thou didst sing in caw, caw numbers,
Vexed I've awoke from my sweet slumbers,
And to avoid that hateful sound,
That plagues a head howe'er profound,
Have walked out in my garden, where
Beside the tank, in many a square,
Sweet lilies, jasmines, roses bloom,
Far from those trees within whose gloom
Of foliage thick, thou hadst thy nest
From daily toil at night to rest.
How oft at morning's rosy prime
When thou didst sing in caw, caw numbers,
Vexed I've awoke from my sweet slumbers,
And to avoid that hateful sound,
That plagues a head howe'er profound,
Have walked out in my garden, where
Beside the tank, in many a square,
Sweet lilies, jasmines, roses bloom,
Far from those trees within whose gloom
Of foliage thick, thou hadst thy nest
From daily toil at night to rest.
Monday, 3 June 2019
Courbet:The Stone Breakers - Rene Char
Sand and straw live gently, soften the fall of wine.
They gather quills from dovecotes.
Theirs is the gullet’s greedy tongue.
They gather quills from dovecotes.
Theirs is the gullet’s greedy tongue.
Sunday, 2 June 2019
The Celestial Fire -Yannai
Now an angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in a blazing fire —
a fire that devours fire;
a fire that devours fire;
Saturday, 1 June 2019
Siberia - James Clarence Mangan
In Siberia's wastes
The ice-wind's breath
Woundeth like the toothed steel;
Lost Siberia doth reveal
Only blight and death.
The ice-wind's breath
Woundeth like the toothed steel;
Lost Siberia doth reveal
Only blight and death.
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