When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions.
sorrow
Sorrow, it is not true that I know you by Antonio Machado
Sorrow, it is not true that I know you;
you are the nostalgia for a good life,
and the aloneness of the soul in shadow,
the sailing ship without wreck and without guide.
Like an abandoned dog who cannot find
a smell or a track and roams
along the roads, with no road, like
the child who in a night of the fair
gets lost among the crowd,
and the air is dusty, and the candles
fluttering–astounded, his heart
weighed down by music and the pain;
that’s how I am, drunk, sad by nature,
a mad and lunar guitarist, a poet,
and an ordinary man lost in dreams,
searching constantly for God among the mists.
translated by Robert Bly
Written By Chance by Li Ch’ing-chao
Fifteen years ago, beneath moonlight and flowers,
I walked with you
We composed flower-viewing poems together.
Tonight the moonlight and flowers are just the same
But how can I ever hold in my arms the same love.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
the crack in my heart: for ZW
for the first time
in many years
I heard sorrow in your voice
the other night
as you said you wished
I was there
but more than miles separate us now
there are those years
and the hurt
we both inflicted
if only you spoke that way
before I left
maybe I would still be there
but now the only sound louder
than the pain in your voice
is the crack
my heart made
in my chest
On A Rainy Autumn Night by Ch’oe Ch’i Won
I sing a bitter song on the autumn wind,
with very few who really appreciate it.
Outside the world drips midnight rain:
under the lamplight, my thoughts drift far away.
translated by Kim Jong-Gil
On Hearing Someone Sing A Poem By Yüan Chen by Po Chü-I
No new poems his brush will trace;
Even his fame is dead.
His old poems are deep in dust
At the bottom of boxes and cupboards.
Once lately, when someone was singing,
Suddenly I heard a verse–
Before I had time to catch the words
A pain had stabbed my heart.
translated by Arthur Waley
the last night for JKW
curled up
on your side of the bed
nothing exposed
walls
so high I cannot scale
trenches
so deep I cannot cross
there is nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
and much left unanswered
it will be cold here
tomorrow
but not as cold as
tonight
something died
though long before I noticed
and I will be left alone
to bury it
in the morning
a haiku for RK
thoughtless word uttered
too late it shatters the air
leaving emptiness
a tanka in three lines by Ishikawa Takuboku
Sadness of the lifeless sand:
rustling,
it falls through my fingers as I clutch it
a tanka by Fujiwara No Teika
Because limits are set,
today I have taken off
my mourning robe,
but there’s no end
to my tears
Leonard Durso 