The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.
“The Lion” by Hilaire Belloc [w/ Audio]
Reply
Category Archives: English Literature
“Death” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]
Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone -
Man has created death.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Song – “My silks and fine array” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
My silks and fine array,
My smiles and languish'd air,
By love are driv'n away;
And mournful lean Despair
Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Such end true lovers have.
His face is fair as heav'n,
When springing buds unfold;
O why to him was't giv'n,
Whose heart is wintry cold?
His breast is love's all worship'd tomb,
Where all love's pilgrims come.
Bring me an axe and spade,
Bring me a winding sheet;
When I my grave have made,
Let winds and tempests beat:
Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay.
True love doth pass away!
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
BOOKS: “HK24” by The Hong Kong Writers Circle
HK24: Twenty-Four Hours of Hong Kong Stories by Stewart McKayMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publisher Site – Hong Kong Writers Circle
This collection of twenty short stories is connected by the theme of events taking place in a single day in Hong Kong. Besides this commonality of setting, there is no other connective tissue between the stories. Tonally, the pieces range from hilarious to tragic. There are suspenseful genre fiction stories as well as realist literary fiction (i.e. telling the story of work-a-day characters engaged in events of everyday life.)
I found “Mummy, Daddy, Angry Birds” by Carsten John and “Rent” by Sharon Tang to be the best humor pieces, and “Egrets” (Paul Clinton Corrigan,) “Help Yourself” (Edmund Price,) and “Joss” (Dimple Shah) to be the most thrilling and intriguing dramatic pieces. All the stories were well-crafted, but some did stand out more than others. A few of those realist pieces that explored “mundane” expat life in Hong Kong made for engaging and distinctive reading. And Hong Kong is uniquely situated for tales of an urban shaman or a Triad shooting.
This is the thirteenth volume of a series put out by the Hong Kong Writers Circle. Each volume has a different theme (besides being Hong Kong connected.) Hong Kong is one of those places that is authentically itself, not to be confused with anywhere else, and that offers a great opportunity to build fascinating tales that could only take place there. [I found it interesting that “should I stay or should I go” was a repeated theme across multiple stories.]
I picked this book up as a piece of travel literature for an upcoming visit to Hong Kong (I make sure to read a work of literature from every country I visit — provided I can find anything translated.) I’d highly recommend this book for readers interested in short fiction with that distinctive Hong Kong flavor. I intend to look into other volumes in the series, myself.
View all my reviews
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“I fear’d the fury of my wind” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
I fear’d the fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair & true,
And my sun it shin’d & shin’d,
And my wind it never blew.
But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree;
For all blossoms grew & grew
Fruitless, false, tho’ fair to see.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“I Asked a Thief To Steal Me a Peach” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
I asked a thief to steal me a peach:
He turn'd up his eyes.
I ask'd a lithe lady to lie her down:
Holy and meek she cries.
As soon as I went an angel came:
He wink'd at the thief
And smil'd at the dame,
And without one word spoke
Had a peach from the tree,
And 'twixt earnest and joke
Enjoy'd the Lady.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Down By the Salley Gardens” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]
Down by the salley gardens
my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens
with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy,
as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish,
with her would not agree.
In a field by the river
my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder
she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy,
as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish,
and now am full of tears.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“From a Railway Carriage” by Robert Louis Stevenson [w/ Audio]
Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Mad Song” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
The wild winds weep,
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs infold:
But lo! the morning peeps
Over the eastern steeps,
And the rustling birds of dawn
The earth do scorn.
Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,
With sorrow fraught
My notes are driven:
They strike the ear of night,
Make weep the eyes of day;
They make mad the roaring winds,
And with tempests play.
Like a fiend in a cloud
With howling woe,
After night I do croud,
And with night will go;
I turn my back to the east,
From whence comforts have increas'd;
For light doth seize my brain
With frantic pain.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“The Human Abstract” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be
If all were happy as we.
And mutual fear brings peace,
Till the selfish loves increase;
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.
He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.
Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the Catterpiller and Fly
Feed on the Mystery.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the Raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.
The Gods of the earth and sea
Sought thro' Nature to find this Tree;
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the Human Brain.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 