Mountains rise over mountains and smoke from valleys;
the dust of the world can never touch the white gulls.
The old fisherman is by no means disinterested;
he owns, in his boat, the moon over the west river.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
Mountains rise over mountains and smoke from valleys;
the dust of the world can never touch the white gulls.
The old fisherman is by no means disinterested;
he owns, in his boat, the moon over the west river.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
Daily wind
Welcome to my world
Gesundheit - Rezepte - Reisen
Blog de literatura e artes
Urban art and culture
We're all on a road to somewhere.
My poetry is my religion.
poetry by Robert Ford
Rincón de ideas y de recetas sencillas
A daily guide on “What to cook?" And "How to cook?”
Katahdin Sheep, Chickens, Ducks, Dogs and Novelist Adrienne Morris live here (with humans).
Enjoy your life as much as you can
Un espacio para la reflexión de anécdotas y cosas que no son del mundo. Un lugar que no pretende ser polémico, pero si causar algún pensamiento en la noche…
1001 steps to becoming a good teacher
Muffins, Coffee and this Blog
IN MEMORY EVERYTHING SEEMS TO HAPPEN TO MUSIC -Tennessee Williams
Write. Doodle. Express.
Nice moon poems lately. Such a moon out there too.
I once wrote “contrails at night are prettier.” Tonight I saw contrail at night through clouds and they are prettiest.
The moon seems to attract us all.
And birds. Seems a thing poets and birds.
Seasons, too, and what they bring.
and no-one can take it from him
Right.