Poetry

If I flash, you'll appear. Backs turned from the present, how can they hope to greet you? You're just like me, predicted for the very place we'll miss each other. Like lightning and thunder— though we come as one, we're revealed as two.

in times of rebellion, the seasons perversely scurry by; on cloudy days, the sun is quick to set. speechless, I scratch my white head and lean, grief-stricken, on the eastern gate.

trans. Portuguese Lisa Sapinkopf 1. Luminous the abolished days When noon bent the columns' shadows And the blue of the sky was drinking up the earth Grown calm in the murmur Of the foliage and the gods. 2. L'Age D'Airain (Rodin) Slowly, slowly, before the light, Laden with shadows and weight, Pulling his body up…

     Fragrant grass on the spring bank in Pa-ling,                  mist thick in the willows,            music fills the towers. The tune of a parting song: my heart is shattered to pieces.      Today I bid you farewell a myriad times.      Red flecked jade plates, gold flecked cups.                        I must urge you,      …

trans. Swedish Robert Bly We have many shadows. I was walking home one September night when Y. rose from his grave after forty years and joined me on my walk. He seemed blown clean at first except for his name, but his thoughts swam faster than time could run, and they caught up. I fitted…

     A white horse, a jade crop, and gilded reins:                  so easy for a young man            to say farewell. The road into the distance is a million miles long.      If you're saddened by clouds and water in a strange land, fill your cup with wine, I beg you with tears.                  …

trans. Danish Alexander Taylor and the author The wine that ripened up along the mountain slopes late that summer we met each other is already golden and full of the aftertaste of an abundance, evaporated like years in the sun and the night breeze looks into me with its poplar leaves:            I am tired…

We worship love because it's more useful than anything else in the world. As money becomes increasingly necessary and hard to get, it too seems more attractive, more awe-inspiring, like love. — I could say the opposite with as much sincerity. — My poverty is easier to bear when I remember the wealthy, and that's…

trans. German Bruce Berlind I've sold off everything. The people climbed four flights, rang twice, out of breath, and paid me off on the floor, since the table too had been sold. While I was selling everything, five or six blocks away they expropriated the possessive pronouns and sawed off the shadows, the private ones,…