One morning I asked the umbrella
Whether it would rather bake in the sun
Or stand soaking in the rain
The umbrella answered with a smile,
“Those things don’t bother me.”
I kept on questioning,
“Then what is your concern?”
The umbrella said,
“I keep thinking
On rainy days, ‘Don’t let people’s clothes get wet,’
And on sunny days, ‘Be a cloud that shades the head.'”
Together then
In our own languages
Let’s steadfastly
Pour out our deepest belief
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Once the heart is at rest
The blood still has to flow for many more years
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
life is
two thirds heartache
one third happiness
not bad odds
considering
other interpretations
just have to sort out
the numbers
to see where one stands
Whether we descend from the great houses,
Or drift unprotected under the naked
Sky, it’s all one; we are sacrifices
To death, not well known for compassion.
We are obliged and herded. The lot is
Inside the urn; the ball with our number
Will roll out. And what we’ll get
Is an everlasting absence from home.
translated by Robert Bly
Calm your mind. Heat tempted
Me in my sweet early days, and sent
Me deeply mad to one-sided poems. Now
I want to replace those sour lines with
Sweet lines; now, having sworn off harsh
Attacks, I want you to become
My friend, and give me back my heart.
translated by Robert Bly
the cat rubs against my leg
as I sit at my desk
one finger typing
on the keyboard
my mind in another dimension
until he brings me back
to the here
the now
the white wine
the cherries
the almonds
3 am in Istanbul
and hours away
from sleep
Fireflies from the Enchanted Mountains
come through the screen this autumn evening
and settle on my shirt
my lute and my books grow cold
outside, above the eaves
they are hard to tell from the stars
they sail over the well
each reflecting a mate
in the garden they pass chrysanthemums
flares of color against the dark
white-haired and sad
I try to read their code
wanting a prediction:
will I be here next year
to watch them?
translated by David Young
there
on the horizon
my eyes
moving toward tomorrow
one hour one day
at a time
It piles up, thick and formidable, on the marble terrace.
The pages, called again and again, try to sweep it away.
Just then, the sun comes out and carries it off.
But never mind, the next moon
The shadows will come back.
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
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual cabaret of songs, stories and questionable life choices.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author 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 