By heaven above
I want us together, heart and mind, my love,
want it destiny on and on, without breach or fail.
Not till mountains have no peaks
and rivers run dry,
not till thunder fills winter days
and summer rains turn to snow,
not till all heaven and earth blur
together, my love, will I part from you.
translated by David Hinton
sit at a corner table
sipping a Pinot Grigio
and see the woman
you could devote
your life to
walk by
NYC
you have
the most beautiful women
in the world
because all the world’s
beautiful women
are represented
here
why would anyone
in his right mind
look any farther
then Third Ave
and 13th Street
to find one’s heart’s
desire
Whether I’m happy or sad?. . .
Frankly I don’t know.
What does it mean to be sad?
What is happiness good for?
I’m neither happy nor sad.
I don’t really know what I am.
I’m just one more soul that exists
And feels what God has ordained.
So then, am I happy or sad?
Thinking never ends well. . .
For me sadness means
Hardly knowing myself. . .
But that’s what happiness is. . .
translated by Richard Zenith
Calm because I’m unknown,
And myself because I’m calm,
I want to fill my days
With wanting nothing from them.
For those whom wealth touches,
Gold irritates the skin.
For those on whom fame blows,
Life fogs over.
On those for whom happiness
Is their sun, night will fall.
But those who hope for nothing
Are glad for whatever comes.
translated by Richard Zenith
Each day gives me cause to hope
For what no day can give me.
Each day makes me weary from hoping. . . . .
But to live is to hope and to grow weary.
translated by Richard Zenith
translated by Richard Zenith
sleep
when it comes
is unforgiving
interrupted by dreams
faces
long forgotten
crop up to speak
of defeats failures misgivings
recounted in great detail
torment now
here
in a land
heavy with memory
there is no respite
from the past
Flowers of the willow, light, fluffy by the second moon,
Sway wildly in spring breezes, tugging sleeves of passers-by.
They are by nature heartless things indeed,
Who just gave them to fly north and fly south.
translated by Eric W. Johnson
the realization
that this world
is not mine
any longer
causes my face
to suddenly
crumble
I am reminded
as I walk
these streets
of how much
I love this city
how much a part
of it
is me
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 