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About B Gourley

Bernie Gourley is a writer living in Bangalore, India. His poetry collection, Poems of the Introverted Yogi is now available on Amazon. He teaches yoga, with a specialization in pranayama, and holds a RYT500 certification. For most of his adult life, he practiced martial arts, including: Kobudo, Muay Thai, Kalaripayattu, and Taiji. He is a world traveler, having visited more than 40 countries around the globe.

BOOKS:  木兰辞 [Ballad of Mulan] by Anonymous

The Ballad of Mulan: 木兰辞 (Simplified Chinese Characters with Pinyin)The Ballad of Mulan: 木兰辞 by Song Nan Zhang
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Available online at YellowBridge

This is a short lyric poem (15-1/2 quatrain, or 62 lines) that tells the story of a young woman who disguises herself as a man and joins the military to fill a slot that would otherwise have required her aged and infirm father to serve. The tiny poem packs in ten-plus years, during which Hua Mulan serves with great distinction and then returns home to take care of her parents. It’s a well-known tale that emphasizes the importance of filial piety and sacrifice. Though outside of China (as well as Taiwan and other Chinese cultural enclaves,) many may know it from the Disney version which has been panned for ditching the Confucian values and replacing them with ones that were thought would resonate better with a Western audience.

The poem is mostly arranged in quatrains of five-character lines with alternate line rhymes.

It’s a quick read and there is no room for the detailed tales of heroism that are depicted in adaptations.

If one is looking for a culturally insightful telling of the story of Hua Mulan, this is the right place to look. I’d highly recommend reading it.

View all my reviews

DAILY PHOTO: Grenade-Laden Father and Child Reunion

“Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe [w/ Audio]

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As other saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring ---
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightening in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --

PROMPT: Dream Job

What’s your dream job?

One that involves interacting with only a small group of familiar people, and which allows for a great deal of deep thought and introspection. (And for the tricky part to reconcile,) one that involves / or allows for a good deal of travel.

Death Denied [Haiku]

a dead tree
swallowed by creepers
greens from base up.

DAILY PHOTO: Street Art of Vientiane

American Center Vientiane
Institut Français

“Infant Sorrow” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

My mother groan'd! my father wept.
Into the dangerous world I leapt:
Helpless, naked, piping loud:
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swadling bands.
Bound and weary I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.

The Avian Unseen [Haiku]

sunup:
roosters crow, birds chirp -
all unseen.

DAILY PHOTO: Adrift on the Nam Song

“A Needle’s Eye” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]

All the stream that's roaring by
Came out of a needle's eye;
Things unborn, things that are gone,
From needle's eye still goad it on.