“Fascinated” [Poetry Style #16] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

The scent: copper-carpeted pine forest;
A stream rushes through: swirling, burbling;
Blue sky and snowcaps peek through the treetops.
In the distance, fishermen are trawling.
A young lady with flowing hair and gown
Passes gracefully through the thick woodlands.
Eyes move when she moves and stop when she stops,
Following her transit down the valley.
The mind shows not its usual chaos,
But is effortlessly anchored to her.
As if to a huge rising moon.
As if to blazing autumn hues.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the sixteenth of the twenty-four poems.

DAILY PHOTO: The Mysterious Carahunge [Armenia’s Stonehenge]

NOTE: Also referred to as Zorats Karer, this mysterious grouping of rocks in southern Armenia is sometimes called “Armenia’s Stonehenge.” Like Stonehenge, it is a gathering of huge stones whose purpose and rationale of geometric arrangement (circular) is not understood. Also, it’s not known how the stones would have been carried to the site and had nearly perfect circular holes drilled through them. It’s not known whether or not the installation is prehistoric or not, but there are mentions of it from as early as the 13th century.

Ride by Night [Kyōka]

a little bird,
on a bit of driftwood,
speeds downriver
in the dusky, fading light.
doesn’t it know it can fly?

DAILY PHOTO: Fire Temple of Baku

DAILY PHOTO: Metekhi Virgin Mary Assumption Church on the Kura River

Psychopomp Shanties [Lyric Poem]

Here comes some sing-song psychopomp,
Shepherding all those stone-cold souls.
He sings stirring songs all day long,
Dragging the Dead over dark shoals.

Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare [w/ Audio]

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes there is more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Poppies [Haiku]

roadside poppies
sway in unison behind
passing autos.

DAILY PHOTO: Republic Square, Yerevan

Government House # 2
Government House #1
Museums Building [National Gallery and History Museum]

DAILY PHOTO: Over Tajikistan