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Saint Chaos [Senryū]
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Author Archives: B Gourley
DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from Bhaktapur
Be Drunken by Charles Baudelaire [w/ Audio]
Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually.
Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.
And if sometimes, on the stairs of a palace, or on the green side of a ditch, or in the dreary solitude of your own room, you should awaken and the drunkenness be half or wholly slipped away from you, ask of the wind, or of the wave, or of the star, or of the bird, or of the clock, or whatever flies, or sighs, or rocks, or sings, or speaks, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is the hour to be drunken! Be drunken, if you would not be martyred slaves of Time, be drunken continually! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will.”
NOTE: This is the Arthur Symons translation from the 1913 Elkin Mathews edition of Baudelaire’s Poems in Prose. Available via Project Gutenberg at: https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/50489/pg50489-images.html#XI
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The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry ed. Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary, The Full 3000-Year Tradition by Tony BarnstoneMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
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This poetry translation anthology presents examples from some of the earliest known Chinese poetry to authors who are still alive and composing. It’s arranged by dynastic period (up until the modern era,) and, within dynasties, by poet. Most of the poets merit only a poem or two, but some of the major poets are allotted many pages of poems. Of course, how much poetry per poet is included isn’t just a function of how prolific or popular the poet was, but also how much extant poetry remains — i.e. how much survived. Each dynastic section begins with an overview of the time and poetic trends, and there is bio blurb for each poet.
There is quite a bit of variation in the book beyond that of the changing nature of Chinese poetry. The translations are also by varied translators, including not only the book’s editors but also individuals from the past, such as Arthur Waley. I wouldn’t say there is any bad translation in the book, but some translators capture the feel, e.g. the relative sparseness, of Chinese better, and others show their English poetic educations more obviously.
All in all, I enjoyed this selection of poems immensely, and learned a lot about Chinese history as well as of the country’s changing poetic tradition. I gained new insight to some of my favorites (e.g. Li Bai, Han Shan, etc.) and gained new favorites I’d never heard of before. I’d highly recommend this book for readers of poetry in translation.
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PROMPT: Time
Do you need time?
I believe I prefer the order of a sequenced life rather than a life of “everything, everywhere, all at once.” But having never ventured off my worldline, I don’t have sound basis for comparison. If you know of how I could experience atemporal existence, I would be happy to give it a try and get back with you.
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Water Swap [Haiku]
the falls are thin. the rains are hard. soon, fortunes will reverse.
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PROMPT: Favorite Subject
What was your favorite subject in school?
Depends on the year. In twelfth grade, I remember enjoying Physics the most. In Eleventh, Psychology was the best class I attended. There was a year when I got the most out of an English class that focused on Creative Writing. I guess my most longstanding preference was for classes like Geography and Social Studies, wherein we learned about the world outside our world.
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Rain Song Tempo [Common Meter]
I hear the rains accelerate From the lightest sprinkle. Soon the streets are aflood; mere sound Makes my fingers wrinkle. The rain continues to ratchet Up: faster & faster. 'Til it's maxed out at a speed that Spells certain disaster. How can it keep up this dire pace? What sponge this cloud must be To hold on high, up in the sky, The contents of a Sea. But, in time, the downshift begins Towards just drips & drops. No matter how boisterous the band, The song, it always stops.
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DAILY PHOTO: Beijing West Rail Station on a Rainy Day
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The Daffodils by William Wordsworth [w/ Audio]
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
