Where is the first sign of spring?
Spring comes earliest to a small pavilion:
Upon the shadow of a bamboo blind in the moonlight,
In the tender notes from a flute in the breeze,
In the greening of a branch breaking out at the tip,
In the drippings of a candle of red passion.
In the whispered words overheard past midnight,
In the scented breath wafted beyond the wall.
translated by Irving Lo
you say
I’ll wait for you
but sadly I know
daysweeksmonthsyears
melt into one
no one waits long
for one who doesn’t come
for here is now
and now I am
To learn to be without desire, you must desire that;
Better to do as you please: sing idleness:
Floating clouds and water running—where’s their source?
In all the vastness of the sea and sky, you’ll never find it.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Willow flowers, snowflakes
The same; they’re feckless—
No matter whose garden they fall in,
They always follow the wind away.
translated by J.P. Seaton
There’s something to love in each thing in the world
Except money: that most insipid of all things:
In life, you can’t get it;
In death, you can’t take it.
translated by J.P. Seaton
The best of poetry comes from the destitute, but my pocket is not yet empty;
I gather, it’s all because I haven’t perfected my skill as a poet.
Having fish to eat or bear’s paw? I admit, I’m greedy for both;
I yearn for skill in poetry, yet how I dread being poor!
translated by Irving Lo
To transmit my mind, one bright moon,
And bury my bones beneath ten thousand plum-blossoms.
translated by Irving Lo
there in the twilight mist
we stand
our eyes in clouds
of regret
we grope forward
seeking rest
only to find the mist
too thick
for these aging
weary eyes
and longing
so heavy
on our hearts
from Douglas Moore’s Art of Quotation
See the rat–at least it’s got a hide,
but a man with no manners,
a man with no manners–
why doesn’t he just die!
See the rat–at least it’s got teeth,
but a man with no decorum,
a man with no decorum–
what’s keeping him! why doesn’t he die?
See the rat–at least it’s got legs,
but a man without courtesy,
a man without courtesy–
why doesn’t he hurry up and die!
translated by Burton Watson
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
Fine Arts
Life, love and destiny.
4TheRecord is dedicated primarily to Ausmusic from all eras and most genres, we will explore the dynamics of the creative process, and reveal the great drama, lyricism, musicality, and emotion behind each classic song.
Fii schimbarea pe care vrei sa o vezi in lume!
Moments de vie, fragments de textes et quelques notes...
Unleashing the beauty of creativity
there's nothing like stories
quiet moments in nature
Art and Literature Beyond Borders
A bird's eye view of St. George, Utah
Keep on Reading
Chronicling an ever-changing city through faded and forgotten artifacts
I read, rant and write ;)
Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
The Green Lizard Log
Leonard Durso 