From the outskirts of the town
Where of old the mile-stone stood,
Now a stranger, looking down
I behold the shadowy crown
Of the dark and haunted wood.
Is it changed, or am I changed?
Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,
But the friends with whom I ranged
Through their thickets are estranged
By the years that intervene.
Bright as ever flows the sea,
Bright as ever shines the sun,
But alas! they seem to me
Not the sun that used to be,
Not the tides that used to run.
Stay near me—do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find in Thee,
Historian of my Infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay Creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My Father's Family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when in our childish plays
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey:—with leaps and springs
I follow'd on from brake to bush;
But She, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.
old stone bridge:
weeds grow in its cracks,
its river ran dry.
I thought:
The moon,
Shining upon the many steps of the palace before me,
Shines also upon the chequered rice-fields
Of my native land.
And my tears fell
Like white rice grains
At my feet.
Human affairs ever grind on --
Ancient or modern, shit repeats.
Mountains and rivers are changeless.
We climb to find our vista seats.
Cascade, fisher, and bridge -- subdued;
Air grows cold near dreamy, deep pools.
We read an old stone monument,
As tears glisten on cheeks like jewels.
Original Poem in Simplified Chinese:
人事有代谢， 往来成古今。
江山留胜迹， 我辈复登临。
水落鱼梁浅， 天寒梦泽深。
羊公碑字在， 读罢泪沾襟。
Note: This is poem #125 from 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首]
When am I coming home? I don't know.
At Bashan, night rains swell Autumn ponds.
Recall, candles in your West Window?
Ah, through night rains, to talk and bond!
The original in Simplified Chinese:
君问归期未有期， 巴山夜雨涨秋池。
何当共剪西窗烛， 却话巴山夜雨时？
Note: This is poem #298 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.]
Eight thousand miles
from my childhood home,
I'm pulled into a nostalgic
reverie
by the scent of straw
and cow shit.
This place,
on the other side of the world,
looks nothing like where I
grew up,
but that smell...
Moonrise --
big and bright --
over a quiet town.
People stare --
alone but simultaneously --
'til the milky light
hurts their eyes.
This moon reminds them
of one from childhood
but seems unlike so many since...
But it's all one moon.
I still remember drinking on the Bridge of Noon
With bright wits of the day.
The silent moon
On endless river rolled away.
In lacy shadows cast by apricot flowers
We played our flutes till morning hours.
O'er twenty years have passed like dreams;
It is a wonder that I'm still alive.
Carefree, I mount the tower bathed in moonbeams.
So many things passed long
Ago survive
Only in fishermen's midnight song.
Translation: This Song Dynasty poem was translated by Xu Yuanchong in: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, p. 212-213
Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?
Probably Fair food would (as in County Fair.) Provided they haven’t all changed since I was a kid. (Having not been to a Fair since childhood, I wouldn’t know. Hence, its validity as an answer.) So, anything inappropriately breaded and deep-fried.
I’ve never run across home-cooking or home style cooking that was close enough to my mother’s to trigger nostalgia. (Though I guess tuna-mac recalls undergrad years lean on time and money, but with a youthful propensity to not worry over the waistline.)
Tiger Riding for Beginners 