Sucess is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of victory
As he defeated -- dying --
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!
They say jungles are chaotic.
I find them as silent
As the world that is aquatic...
Though no less violent.
Someone would like to have you for her child
but you are mine.
Someone would like to rear you on a costly mat
but you are mine.
Someone would like to place you on a camel blanket
but you are mine.
I have you to rear on a torn old mat.
Someone would like to have you as her child
but you are mine.
NOTE: I have no specific author or translator information for this poem. (The former may not be surprising as it may be lost to history.) At any rate, my source is Classic Poems to Read Aloud, an anthology selected by James Berry (1995; Kingfisher Publications,) and it was titled “Lullaby.” That book cites a Cambridge University Press volume entitled African Poetry, edited by Ulli Beier, as its source.
Moving at a glide --
No strain, no effort,
Rolling side to side,
No lord or escort.
Things are going SWIMMINGLY.
With wear you will decay outside,
But inside resides the vital force.
Approach the Absolute through the Void:
One's strength will grow, and vim will course.
You can know the world and its Way,
Across space and time -- to the Source.
To desolation range hang dark clouds,
Air still as latitudes of the horse,
Move beyond all one knows by sight,
And gain the Center -- but not by force --
Hold onto this strength by hook or crook,
And flow the Endless by watercourse.
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 crude translation of the first of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 雄浑, and its translated titles include: “Energy – Absolute” [Giles] and “Vigorous.”
The spine is not a line.
It likes to twist and twine.
Bend it, stretch it, coil it;
Just don't bake, fry, or boil it.
A stiff line of ships
Stands in the harbor:
Neither rise nor dip -
Just anchored torpor.
Is a storm coming?
Will ships be unbound?
Will waves be drumming,
Or lost be all sound?
If a ship snaps loose,
Will it reach the sea
To become a recluse,
A ghost ship riding free?
Adrift on West Lake in a wine-laden, colorful skiff:
As flutes play fast and lutes, deftly
And a jade cup circuits swiftly,
The boat's calm rocking lulls the drunk into sleep.
Thin clouds seem to float right under the rudderless boat.
The water's blue matches the sky's,
As lake to sky and back move eyes,
"Do the clouds above match those that in the water float?"
You know where you despise
(Tother day) my little Eyes,
Little Legs, and little Thighs,
And some things, of little Size,
You know where.
You, tis true, have fine black eyes,
Taper legs, and tempting Thighs,
Yet what more than all we prize
Is a Thing of little Size,
You know where.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 