“Nothing in the world is permanent, and we’re foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we’re still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it.” ~ W. Somerset Maugham
Nothing In The World Is Permanent — A Pondering Mind
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more than a number
she said
age is just a number
so typical
of the young
not understanding
age is more
than a number
but the creaking of bones
in the morning
the shortness of breath
after climbing 5 long flights
the slow diminishing of sight
when reading those beloved books
and the hearing of beating wings
as that dark angel
draws closer
as each night falls
from To the Tune of “The Court Fills with Fragrance” Part III by Su Dong-po
“Return to where I belong”
Where do I belong
Home near Min and Emei thousands of miles away
My hundred years nearly half gone
The coming days won’t be many
Suddenly I’ve seen another leap year at Huangzhou
All of my children
speak and sing in the local dialect
Friends from these mountains
with chicken and pork and festival wine
urge me to grow old at East Hill
What can I say
as I leave here
the events of our lives
come and go like a shuttle
I’ll soon be watching the autumn wind
stir crystal waves of the Luo
Lucky for these slender willows by my house
Thinking of me
no one will lop their tender branches
Pass the word
to elders along the Yangtze
sun my fishing cape now and then
translated by Yun Wang
;
To the Tune of”Southern Countryside” I by Su Dong-po
Frost is on the ground and the river has shrunk
Distant shoals appear amid shimmering green shallows
As the wine wears off I begin to feel the wind
I shiver
My torn hair clings to my head with too many thoughts
How can I give thanks to autumn
Let me say goodbye with this sparkling cup
Everything becomes a dream in the end
Let this be enough
Tomorrow even butterflies will mourn the chrysanthemums
translated by Yun Wang
skylark: for Aliona
hovering above
it sings
and spring erupts
down come walls
of gloom
of despair
a harbinger
of good tidings
waking at dawn
lighting the earth
fields flourish
flowers sprout
and hope
yes hope
fills the air
from To the Tue of “The Celestial by the River” III by Su Dong-po
I have long hated not owning my body
When does one forget worldly labor
Night deepens as wind calms water’s rippling silk
My small boat shall vanish from here
to travel life in rivers and seas
translated by Yun Wang
a young woman runs: for Aliona & Bucks
the sun overhead
heating the world
this autumn day
a young woman runs
her dog at her heels
her long blonde hair
pulled back
in a ponytail
bouncing in rhythm
to her strides
the dog lets out cries
twirling with joy
as they run
one afternoon receding
as another begins
bringing hope
to this old heart
that a new day
is not just coming
but is already here
on chosen ground
every day that passes
leaves a stain
that just won’t rub off
the sky overcast
bad weather creeping in
and my oh my
this living
gets harder
every day that comes
that goes
and here we are
standing eight
on chosen ground
Every Woman Knows Her Own Tree by Bejan Matur
When I came to you
I meant to unfurl my wings
Over the lifeless city
Built of black stone,
To perch on the branch of a tree I found
And call out in pain.
Every woman knows her own tree.
That night I flew.
I passed the city where darkness was afraid to go.
When shadowless, the soul was alone. I howled.
translated by George Messo
Fig by Birhan Keskin
You made me laugh, Summer, you’re my dream
I slept with you, with you I wake.
My insides are soooo big, the world
fits in, next to you.
O my spikeless, cornerless, lingering love
my self as withered as a summer leaf.
translated by George Messo
Leonard Durso 