the scent of jasmine
hangs in the air
the cup of tea
grows cold on the desk
a lone dog
howls in the dark
the clock on the wall
ticks away the night
and my mind
turns toward the east
five long hours away
where the morning sun
shines high in the sky
and this planet earth
is graced by her smile
nightly ritual: for Giaoen
she sinks slowly
into bath water
soap caressing
her arms her legs
her breasts
pat dry before
the creams the lotions
her hands gliding over
her skin like silk
white body against
blue satin
as she lies
to sleep
a sleep
of no regrets
“ Truth is what your contemporaries let you get away with. “
from Douglas Moore’s Art of Quotation
Truth is what your contemporaries let you get away with.
Richard Rorty, Philosopher
in the middle
the muezzin’s call to prayer
on my left
the church bells tolling
on my right
and I in the middle
not where I started out
to be
Spring Dawn by Meng Haoran
Sleeping in spring, I don’t feel the dawn
though everywhere birds are singing.
Last night I heard sounds, blowing, raining.
How many flowers have fallen down?
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
The Coat of Gold Brocade by Du Qiuniang
I tell you, don’t adore your coat of gold brocade.
I tell you, adore the short spell of youth.
When the blossom is ready it must be plucked.
Don’t wait till flowers drop and break the empty twig.
treanslated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
Stopping at Beign Mountain by Wang Wan
Man on a road through green mountains.
A boat sails the green waters.
The banks grow when the tide stills.
One sail taut in the wind.
The ocean sun emerges from broken night.
Spring flows in rivers as the year ages.
How can my letter find its way home
to Luoyang where the geese fly?
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
Chatting about the Past with the Elder (Ching-jen) by Hung Liang-chi
reblogged for Jimmy
All ambitions of youth yield place to calamities;
Parted as in a dream–reunited, we can’t trust our eyes.
Shall we match our strength in climbing one more mountain?
Winning fame in literature, there’s you alone.
In a sea of dust, we still can tarry for a little while;
Or sit in a granary of books, all day, without food.
This morning I took myself to Yen Pavilion for a look,
Trying to find the leanest horse to ride down the capital street.
translated by Irving Lo
Traveling By River In Lınghan by Liu Tsung-yuan
Sailing south on infested waters into the land of mist
horizon of tanglehead stretching to the sea
hills marked by elephant swaths after a rain
dragon drool rising from the depths in the sun
poison-spitting frogs that can see a traveler’s shadow
a typhoon sky frightening the passengers on board
my concerns however are other than these
namely how to bear white hair and the disappearing years
translated by Red Pine
Abraham by Asaf Halet Çelebi
Abraham
Topple the idols inside me
With the ax you hold
Who is the one
replacing the broken idols with new ones?
The sun shattered my icehouse
Those mighty blocks have fallen
Necks of idols are broken
Abraham
Who is the one
putting the sun in my house?
Nebuchadnezzar made the idols
of the beauties wandering in the hanging gardens
I am the one cuddles those timeless gardens
Beauties stayed with me
Abraham
Who is the one
breaking my head
seeing it as an idol?
translated by Burak Tıraş
Leonard Durso 