migrating geese
on a layover
graze my lawn.
Layover [Senryū]
Reply
DAILY PHOTO: Boat in the Bay, Koh Phi Phi
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“The Bell” by Ralph Waldo Emerson [w/ Audio]
I love thy music, mellow bell,
I love thine iron chime,
To life or death, to heaven or hell,
Which calls the sons of Time.
Thy voice upon the deep
The home-bound sea-boy hails,
It charms his cares to sleep,
It cheers him as he sails.
To house of God and heavenly joys
Thy summons called our sires,
And good men thought thy sacred voice
Disarmed the thunder's fires.
And soon thy music, sad death-bell,
Shall lift its notes once more,
And mix my requiem with the wind
That sweeps my native shore.
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PROMPT: Collections
I collect experiences, but they are very slippery and will not stay in a row on a shelf to be displayed.
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Chick Wrangling [Senryū]
mama chicken
struts with great confidence
for one wrangling chicks.
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DAILY PHOTO: Bhaktapur Durbar Square
BOOKS: “A Horse’s Tale” by Mark Twain
A Horse’s Tale by Mark TwainMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Project Gutenberg Page
Among the lesser-known works of Twain, A Horse’s Tale mixes an epistolary by a military officer at a remote outpost with dialogues between animals of the post (principally the protagonist, a horse called Soldier Boy.) The principal subject of the epistolary is a precocious girl who lives at the outpost and who is adored by all as the one soft, sweet creature in a world of warfighting men and their animals. The conversations between animals offer the most amusing portion of this book, largely for the fun being poked at humanity’s expense.
In its best moments, this novella is intensely touching or hilarious. However, it does suffer from inconsistency of pacing and tone.
If you enjoy Mark Twain’s humor and storytelling, this novella is well worth reading. If you’re primarily a reader of present-day genre / commercial fiction, it probably won’t be your thing.
View all my reviews
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Wen Fu 8 [文赋 八] “Edits” by Lu Ji [陆机] [w/ Audio]
Maybe the first lines constrain the last;
Maybe ends insist on openings;
Maybe some truths escape all words;
Maybe dulcet lines tell no truths.
One may need to keep separated --
Beauty and truth -- to avoid wounds.
Inspect and haggle over each word --
Distinctions maybe finer than a hair;
Weigh each edit upon a scale;
Ensure each cut serves its purpose.
Original poem in Simplified Chinese:
或仰逼于先条，或俯侵于后章。
或辞害而理比，或言顺而义妨。
离之则双美， 合之则两伤。
考殿最于锱铢，定去留于毫芒。
苟铨衡之所裁，固应绳其必当。
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PROMPT: Legacy
If “legacy” is defined as something left behind that serves to keep one’s memory alive, then I don’t. I think that goal is futile, illusory, and a bit narcissistic. Even those who are “remembered” long after their deaths are not truly remembered. For example, the Alexander the Great who is remembered to this day likely bears little resemblance to the one who was flesh and blood. What we remember are products of imagination. [Which is fine, but then why tie them to people who lived as opposed to purely fictional ones?]
If I could leave behind some configuration of knowledge of the art of human living that would be helpful to anyone (without it being tied to my identity or memory) that would be a fine thing.
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Just the Tips [Senryū]
high mountains:
sunrise hits snowcaps only;
in darkness & don't know it.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 