Talk all day and then keep silent;
Midnight, still restless on its perch.
Body imprisoned for its bright plumage;
Heart embittered by understanding.
Dusk arouses thoughts of return to nest;
Springtime multiplies mating calls.
Who can break this cage open,
Released, to joy in flight and song?
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Caltrop leaves tug on the waves, the lotus quivers in the wind;
Where the lotus flowers grow dense, a small boat passes through.
Wishing to speak to her lover, she nods her head and smiles–
A hairpin of green jade falls into the water.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Clear Autumn. I gaze out into
Endless spaces. The horizon
Wavers in bands of haze. Far off
The river flows into the sky.
The lone city is blurred with smoke.
The wind blows the last leaves away.
The hills grow dim as the sun sets.
A single crane flies late to roost.
The twilit trees are full of crows.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
A peasant’s shack beside the
Clear river,the rustic gate
Opens on a deserted road.
Weeds grow over the public well.
I loaf in my old clothes. Willow
Branches sway. Flowering trees
Perfume the air. The sun sets
Behind a flock of cormorants,
Drying their black wings along the pier.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
why you ask
and how do I say
what is new
is familiar
a memory
being created
anew
not deja vu
because I haven’t been
here before
but could have been
would have been
should have been
but turned a different corner
somewhere
long ago
and now
have stumbled upon
this road
quite by accident
and found you
patiently waiting
to ask why
I took so long
we scamper
among the trees
Ali and me
two kids
in a farmer’s field
plucking figs
from trees
and giggling
as we split them open
to taste
their sweetness
guilty pleasure
a break from work
washing our hands
in the sprinklers
before climbing back
in a waiting car
to return
to the business
at hand
The days grow long, the mountains
Beautiful. The south wind blows
Over blossoming meadows.
Newly arrived swallows dart
Over the steaming marshes.
Ducks in pairs drowse on the warm sand.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
The trees are brilliant with flowers
And the hills are green.
The sun is about to set.
Over the immense plain
A green carpet of grass
Stetches to infinity.
The passersby do not care
That Spring is about to end.
Carelessly they come and go
Before the pavilion,
Trampling the fallen flowers.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
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 