It has turned crystal clear lately
And flows away like a ribbon of smoke
With a music like a ten strınged zither.
The sound penetrates to my pillow,
And turns my mind to past loves,
And won’t let me sleep for melancholy.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
there they are
those faces
from the past
filtering through
my dreams
causing confusion
asking questions
that can no longer
be answered
about their take
on events
long gone
and I break
an oath
pour whiskey
down my throat
in the vain attempt
to find sleep
bereft of dreams
Everything started again in a harbor
The sea, the memory, and the woman.
Being naked, you were shivering
Your hair had come loose all the way down.
There were no flowers in the pot, no stars,
I didn’t have the money to buy you flowers.
Only the sky was left and a song,
There were patchy clouds in the sky,
You were there, your eyes too;
Besides your eyes were black as could be.
Everything started all over again.
translated by Talat S. Halman
That was a different time
Of all times,
Inside the tiniest earrings
Of white, round beads
She left by my bedside
Were light beams and shadows.
Perhaps Güler’s hours of love
Remained in those worlds. . .
Or maybe they flew away
Descending onto a vacant shore
With suns receding from rooms.
Day breaks, night descends.
Those kisses and caresses
Are now bright white pebbles
Found by children.
translated by Talat S. Halman
On bamboo leaves and rooftops the autumn dew is clear
vermilion strings and jade harmonics multiply old feelings
Calling Crow and Departing Cranes are tunes I somehow recognize
containing as they do the sounds of a breaking heart
translated by Red Pine
The fire ban darkens an auspicious day
I still feel the pain of our parting
seeing these flower-covered fields
reminds me of the trails of Tuling
when will we ride together again
I’m feeling much older today
translated by Red Pine
NOTE: Cold Food Day occurred 150 days after Winter Solstice (late spring). This is in the commentary by Red Pine.
This autumn night become thoughts of you,
I wander along, offer cold heaven a chant.
In mountain emptiness, a pinecone falls.
My recluse friend must not be asleep either.
translated by David Hinton
sleep
when it comes
is unforgiving
interrupted by dreams
faces
long forgotten
crop up to speak
of defeats failures misgivings
recounted in great detail
torment now
here
in a land
heavy with memory
there is no respite
from the past
unexpected
but welcome
a wet head
and shirt
an easy trade
for relief
from heat and sun
and then memory
comes intruding
a summer shower
thousands of years ago
your hair waist length
dripping on my chest
the white of your teeth
the green of your eyes
the touch of a hand
skin on skin
as rain beat down
on a tin roof
a trailer in Ohio
the sound of corn
serenading in the wind
and sleep
when it came
never felt so good
again
there were homemade
potato chips
benches to read on
a sea breeze
my dog asleep
at my feet
that beautiful carousel
and the promise
of a brass ring
a hand outstretched
across what was
a lifetime
and you
and happiness
just out of reach
and me
riding a wooden horse
up and down
around
through eternity
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
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual speakeasy 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 