April 13, 2021: With that Moon Language by Hafiz in "The Gift", page 322

With that Moon Language

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them,
"Love me."

Of course you do not do this out loud:
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this,
This great pull in us
To connect.

Why not become the one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,

With that sweet moon
Language,

What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hear.

April 12, 2021: Physical Synthesis of an Idea

Physical Synthesis Of An Idea
 
Deep inside a cave, a chemist has synthesized
A special form of joyful, ecstatic love.
He spends day and night creating more and more of it
In different grades and colors.
He makes it into mortar to brick a wall around his home.
He pours buckets of it into his swimming pool.
He paints it onto his face, and no one knows him.
But they love him!
He mixes it with his lamp oil
And burns it!

 

April 12, 2021: "Refuge of Nocturnal Birds" - Salvatore Quasimodo in "Italian Lit. in Transla.", pg. 335

 A Refuge of Nocturnal Birds

High on a cliff there's a twisted pine;
intently it listens into the abyss
with its trunk curved down like a crossbow.

A refuge of nocturnal birds,
in the deepest hours of night it resounds
with the swift fluttering of wings.

Even my heart has a nest
suspended into the darkness, and a voice;
it, too, lies awake listening at night.

April 11, 2021: Two Little Children

Two Little Children
 
Two little children, far from a home
Where their parents had turned into strangers.
It was late in the night when they set off to roam,
For they thought it the lesser danger.
 
For water, they followed a lazy stream
Where bushes and grass grew tall,
And though defensive birds would dive and scream,
They couldn’t be seen at all.
 
They had a salve to keep insects at bay.
They didn’t know what they were after.
They were only trying to make their way.
The wind in the trees seemed like laughter.
 
Laughing at -- or laughing with?
Up rose the friendly sun.
The two were the heroes of a made-up myth,
And were out for survival . . . and fun!
 
They’d travelled several days so far,
Using Sarah’s fearless madness.
She found a whole bag of food in a car.
How they danced in their grateful gladness!
 
But even with food, they at times felt forlorn.
Could their journey be sustained?
Doris’ shirt had got dirty and torn,
And the clouds were threatening rain.
 
So they made their way towards a friendly farm
To find a place they could sleep.
They slipped through the gate of a simple barn,
And lay down next to some sheep.
 
A boy came out with a bag of feed,
And asked them if all was well.
How long had they been there?  Were they in need?
He told them that he wouldn’t tell.
 
He only wanted to hear their tale,
And he seemed like a really nice guy.
“Eventually,” he said, “The law will prevail,
But I’ll try to help you get by.”
 
At least they had someone to whom they could speak
From a family that seemed so fine!
They hung around for about a week,
‘Til they decided they’d had their time.

April 11, 2021: "Children" by Po Chu-I in Arthur Waley's "Chinese Poems", page 154.

 Children

Written c. 820.

My nephew, who is six years old, is called 'Tortoise';
My daughter of three--little 'Summer Dress'.
One is beginning to learn to joke and talk;
The other can already recite poems and songs.
At morning they play clinging about my feet;
At night they sleep pillowed against my dress.
Why, children, did you reach the world so late,
Coming to me just when my years are spent?
Young things draw our feelings to them;
Old people easily give their hearts.
The sweetest vintage at last turns sour;
The full moon in the end begins to wane.
And so with men the bonds of love and affection
Soon may change to a load of sorrow and care.
But all the world is bound by love's ties;
Why did I think that I alone should escape?

April 10, 2021: Impatience

Impatience
 
I want it now; I don’t want to wait.
I’ll never have time if I go at this rate.
I need to fill my heart’s desire!
I want to run and never tire;
To excel to a rate that will leave me behind!
Then stop to transform the whole of mankind.
I think I can do it.  There must be a way!
But there can’t be a cost, ‘cause I don’t want to pay.
I want it now;  I don’t want to wait!
Serve up my dinner on a dirty plate!

April 10, 2021: Regret by Yuan Chi, in "Chinese Poems translated by Arthur Waley, Page 73.

 Regret

When I was young I learnt fencing
And was better at it than Ch'u-ch'eng (famous swordsman).
My spirit was high as the rolling clouds
And my fame resounded beyond the World.
I took my sword to the desert sands,
I watered my horse in the Nine Wilds,
My flags and banners flapped in the wind,
And nothing was heard but the song of my drums.

War and its travels have made me sad,
And a fierce anger burns within me.
It's thinking of how I've wasted my time
That makes this fury tear my heart.