“A lie told once remains a lie but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth” — Joseph Goebbels, German, political figure, Minister of Propaganda for Nazi Germany
The twisted limbs break
Into ten thousand flecks of gold,
On layer upon layer of carved jade leaves,
Fresh and bright as the grace of Yen Fu.
The heaps of plum petals seem vulgar.
The lilacs seem coarse and contorted.
Your perfume has broken into
My sorrowful dream of the one
A thousand miles away,
And left me drained of emotion.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
I’m having trouble viewing my own wordpress site. It just will not open on any of my computers whether I use Safari or Google Chrome and the Help Desk here suggests I change providers which will be problematic for me here in Turkey. My contract with my current provider ends in May and to cancel it sooner would incur a fine. I will be moving from here to a city just north of Izmir and will hopefully not have this issue once there but you never know. I do not know if I can solve this issue before I move and my only other option is to close this blog and begin all over again, though there is no guarantee that will be successful, either.
So, please bear with me as I hope to find a solution. In the meantime, I can usually access my dashboard to see activity on the blog and can usually access my Reader to view your posts but cannot always access other blogs from my email notifications so if I don’t respond to posts from time to time understand I am experiencing “technical difficulties”.
I will post this now but will not be able to view it myself nor can I share it through my facebook or twitter accounts. Is that irony? Maybe, but certainly not tragic when compared to what else is going on in the world.
from the past
through virtual space
with a name attached
I know knew
what delete means
what I can wish
is what I can offer
arms still strong
in this blowing
By my old gate, among yellow grasses,
Still we linger, sick at heart.
The way you must follow through cold clouds
Will lead you this evening into snow.
Your father died; you left home young;
Nobody knew of your misfortunes.
We cry, we say nothing. What can I wish you,
In this blowing wintry world?
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu