My mind resembles cabin-lake water
Rippled by stray winds,
Shadowed by flowing clouds.
Someone is throwing stones;
Another is fishing;
Another is singing.
By this shore on a lonely night,
Stars quietly float on the water
And the woods quietly lull the waves.
But each night I cover the lake with my dreams
Lest this shore be untidy
The day the white swan returns.
unknown translator
What shall I do, Waves?
Waves, what shall I do?
Love is unmoved like the shore.
What shall I do, Waves?
What shall I do?
Night is
A lake shrouded in blue fog.
I am a fisherman
On a sleep’s sailboat,
Fishing dreams.
Beneath the Moses of the incense,
asleep.
Eyes of bulls were looking at you.
Your rosary was raining.
In that dress of deep silk,
do not move, Virginia.
Give the black melons of your breasts
to the whispers of the mass.
translated by Robert Bly
End of page,
end of this
company–wee
notebook kept
my mind in hand,
let the world stay
open to me
day after day,
words to say,
things to be.
The clouds passing over, the
wisps still seeming substantial, as
a kid, as a kid I’d see them up there
in the town I grew up in on the hills
in the fields on the way home then
as now still up there, still up there.
What’s gone is gone.
What’s lost is lost.
What’s felt as pulse–
what’s mind, what’s home.
Who’s here, where’s there–
what’s patience now.
What thought of all,
why echo it.
Now to begin–
Why fear the end.
watch the angel bounce
her hands gesticulating
between rows of desks
flowers sprout along her path
the sun lives within her smile
Dressed in black mantles,
she thinks the world is tiny
and the heart immense.
Dressed in black mantles.
She thinks the loving sigh
and the cry disappear
on the currents of the wind.
Dressed in black mantles.
The balcony was left open
and at dawn the whole sky
emptied onto the balcony.
Ay yayayayay,
dressed in black mantles!
The guitar
makes dreams weep.
The sobbing of lost
souls
escapes through its round
mouth.
And like the tarantula
it spins a large star
to trap the sighs
floating in its black,
wooden water tank.
translated by Carlos Bauer
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
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Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
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Leonard Durso 