Today's poet

Like it Xrunner, and just noticed your avatar....it's gorgeous!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

A Poison Tree - a poem by William Blake

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I waterd it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

---

The Two-Faced Red Fox

Beneath the two layers of makeup
The scent of strawberry kiwi
The dazzling White river smile
And the romantic nimbus she wears
Is a hidden agenda

Michael Fischer

red swirl rushes by
sly, cunning, evades deaths dog
sharp fox outwits all

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Like it Xrunner, and just noticed your avatar....it's gorgeous!

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You need to thank Hes for creating the print.

Attachment 4008

THE THOUGHT-FOX, by Ted Hughes

I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

It looks even better here

Attachment 4008

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Foxy! ha!
Do you have this on a wall in your house then?
I do love foxes!

Brilliant!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

You need to thank Hes for creating the print.

Attachment 4008

THE THOUGHT-FOX, by Ted Hughes

I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

---

pale lifeless background
transformed with her colour and love
natures beauty shows

Only since hearing him read have I fully come to appreciate his poetry. Hearing the way he reads makes more sense of the way he writes. Gently.

I got my copy of Gawain and the Green Knight out again this evening. It is a really good read but choosing a line or two to share out of the 2530 is proving hard. I'm not typing that one all out!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Evening all...

whats all this death talk?

something from the boy himself and loosely connected to the caged bird patter..........

GIVE


Of all the public places, dear
to make a scene, I've chosen here.
Of all the doorways in the world
to choose to sleep, I’ve chosen yours.
I'm on the street, under the stars.
For coppers I can dance or sing.
For silver-swallow swords, eat fire.
For gold-escape from locks and chains.
It's not as if I'm holding out
for frankincense or myrrh, just change.
You give me tea. That's big of you.
I'm on my knees. I beg of you.


Simon Armitage

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Only since hearing him read have I fully come to appreciate his poetry. Hearing the way he reads makes more sense of the way he writes. Gently.

I got my copy of Gawain and the Green Knight out again this evening. It is a really good read but choosing a line or two to share out of the 2530 is proving hard. I'm not typing that one all out!

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Aw you are funny Harry! :-) ...i do agree about SA's unique lilt and gentle way of reading his poetry, something very soothing about it.....

Here is a nice poem by Meghan O'Rourke

Palimpsest

So the days go by, and the singing at night continues.
The summer passes like horses.
Wisdom arrives on a piece of paper, blown
through wide glass windows:
"This page intentionally left blank."
I talk to my friends more than I used to.
I sleep less. This is the point of life:
you really care. The tendons slacken,
the fat honeycombs beneath the skin,
a fox paces in the town courtyard,
until, passing a mirror, on the phone,
laughing, you see yourself again
as you are, as you are not.
The snow creaks underfoot.
Touch me, I am still here,
like the humming bee, like the mayrope
wrapped around the tree.
The song was never mine to sing.
It lives beneath the skin.
It speaks in every bone.

time for me to get some kip, night all

Wow...I love all the foxy offerings this evening and especially your original verses MG. The owl poem was brilliant too. Thanks to you & XRunner for cheering me up. I also enjoyed Mossy's Plath choice. Until I came to this thread, I'd never really spent much time reading her poetry but thanks to you, Freckle and all the other Plath fans, I appreciate her much more and I do like some of her strange dark ideas, I have to be in the right frame of mind though.

Good to see SA on here Freckle and HHH. Hope you are both well.x

That's lovely. One for me to bookmark I think. Sleep well Freckle.xx

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Aw you are funny Harry! :-) ...i do agree about SA's unique lilt and gentle way of reading his poetry, something very soothing about it.....

Here is a nice poem by Meghan O'Rourke

Palimpsest

So the days go by, and the singing at night continues.
The summer passes like horses.
Wisdom arrives on a piece of paper, blown
through wide glass windows:
"This page intentionally left blank."
I talk to my friends more than I used to.
I sleep less. This is the point of life:
you really care. The tendons slacken,
the fat honeycombs beneath the skin,
a fox paces in the town courtyard,
until, passing a mirror, on the phone,
laughing, you see yourself again
as you are, as you are not.
The snow creaks underfoot.
Touch me, I am still here,
like the humming bee, like the mayrope
wrapped around the tree.
The song was never mine to sing.
It lives beneath the skin.
It speaks in every bone.

time for me to get some kip, night all

---

Fox Dancing

Tall as foxglove spire, on tiptoe
The fox in the wilderness dances;
His pelt and burnished claws reflect
The sun’s and the moon’s glances.

From blackberry nose to pride of tail
He is elegant, he is gay;
With his pawsteps as a pattern of joy
He transfigures the day.

For a hat he wears a rhubarb leaf
To keep his thinking cool,
Through which his fur-lined ears prick up.
This fox, he is no fool

And does not give a good-morning
For the condition of his soul:
With the fox dancing in the desert
Study to be whole.

Suzanne Knowles

(I once based a print on this too but its sold out now)

I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought

of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a cat's cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait

till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush, had
paddled off in tiny coracles, till

those restless birds, your actor's hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until you'd turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you

Patagonia by Kate Clanchy

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

Quote:

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Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

---

Ooooo enigmatic indeed! I like this Oneoff...a lot..... but I am hoping there is a happy ending :-)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought

of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a cat's cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait

till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush, had
paddled off in tiny coracles, till

those restless birds, your actor's hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until you'd turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you

Patagonia by Kate Clanchy

---

this is gorgeous..."skies all empty aching blue" ...just lovely...

Hes I loved your foxy poem and MG's original haiku...and I can never get enough Plath no matter how bleak!

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

One of the (many) joys of this thread is discovering writers you'd never heard of before and finding more of their work :cool:

Raspberries


The way we can’t remember heat, forget
the sweat and how we wore a weightless
shirt on chafing skin, the way we lose
the taste of raspberries, each winter; but

know at once, come sharp July, the vein
burning in the curtain, and from that light
- the block of sun on hot crushed sheets -
the blazing world we’ll walk in,

was how it was, your touch. Nor the rest,
not how we left, the drunkenness, just
your half-stifled, clumsy, frightened reach,
my uncurled hand, our fingers, meshed,

-like the first dazzled flinch from heat
or between the teeth, pips, a metal taste

Kate Clanchy

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

One of the (many) joys of this thread is discovering writers you'd never heard of before and finding more of their work :cool:

Raspberries


The way we can’t remember heat, forget
the sweat and how we wore a weightless
shirt on chafing skin, the way we lose
the taste of raspberries, each winter; but

know at once, come sharp July, the vein
burning in the curtain, and from that light
- the block of sun on hot crushed sheets -
the blazing world we’ll walk in,

was how it was, your touch. Nor the rest,
not how we left, the drunkenness, just
your half-stifled, clumsy, frightened reach,
my uncurled hand, our fingers, meshed,

-like the first dazzled flinch from heat
or between the teeth, pips, a metal taste

Kate Clanchy

---

Now that is a bit tasty and has set me up for the day :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

---

You were an early bird this morning freckle :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

---

I would say its just enigmatic enough to make you pause for thought :cool: Well done OOP.

My Father’s Diary


I get into bed with it, and spring
the scarab legs of its locks. Inside,
the stacked, shy wealth of his print—
he could not write in script, so the pages
are sturdy with the beamwork of printedness,
WENT TO LOOK AT A CAR, DAD
IN A GOOD MOOD AT DINNER, WENT
TO TRY OUT SOME NEW TENNIS RACQUETS,
LUNCH WITH MOM, life of ease—
except when he spun his father’s DeSoto on the
ice, and a young tree whirled up to the
hood, throwing up her arms—until
LOIS. PLAYED TENNIS, WITH LOIS,
LUNCH WITH MOM AND LOIS, LOIS
LIKED THE CAR, DRIVING WITH LOIS,
LONG DRIVE WITH LOIS. And then,
LOIS! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! SHE IS SO
GOOD, SO SWEET, SO GENEROUS, I HAVE
NEVER, WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE
TO DESERVE SUCH A GIRL? Between the dark
legs of the capitals, moonlight, soft
tines of the printed letter gentled
apart, nectar drawn from serif, the
self of the grown boy pouring
out, the heart’s charge, the fresh
man kneeling in pine-needle weave,
worshipping her. It was my father
good, it was my father grateful,
it was my father dead, who had left me
these small structures of his young brain—
he wanted me to know him, he wanted
someone to know him.

Sharon Olds

That's good OneOff...enigmatic too. I like it!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

---

Reading the above posts...enigmatic is the word of the day! :)

I really like the Kate Clanchy poems DT, I've not come across her before. I also really liked the Sharon Old one from Alf. Diaries make for very strange reading years later. I've reread some of my travel diaries and find myself caught between wincing and surprise at some of my thoughts back then.

This is beautiful. So simple.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

---

The Gulf

I tried
To capture in paper
The nameless, still bird
In my garden -
for you.

But
Between
What I sought to say
And what I did
The bird
Has taken to wings.

Ka Mohanarangan

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Alf

You were an early bird this morning freckle :)

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Indeed, early enought to fit in a very productive meeting with a physio who diagnosed something akin to "girly knee"...apparently I have a weakness in the inside left bit of my quad which is giving me knee pain but the good new is that I can build that muscle up fairly quickly and it doesn't preclude running in the long term. Apparently many women are prone to this type of weakness becuase their hips are wider hence the tag I have given it of "girlie knee". Some brilliant stuff on here this morning especially raspberries...I need to nick off now tho cos I am supposed to be working...looking forward to re reading all posts later...

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

A moment lost!
Love it Hes x

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

The Gulf

I tried
To capture in paper
The nameless, still bird
In my garden -
for you.

But
Between
What I sought to say
And what I did
The bird
Has taken to wings.

Ka Mohanarangan

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

---

I absoultely LOVE LOVE LOVE this poem, so hopeful and so true...thank you MG for posting ! x

I know its not spring....but I love this poem, the imagery, the sense of loss and the last four lines...

THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME

by: William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)

Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turned away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.

Girly Knee? :) well, that sounds far better than my 'disappointing left buttock'! :D I am really pleased that you've discovered how to treat your injury Freckle. I hope you get that knee sorted really soon. I ran with the fast lads tonight and whilst I am still trailing behind, I felt no pain (in my knee...lungs were another thing!) and I feel much stronger. The main reason, I think, is that I'm finally doing those exercises that my physio set me. Here's to us both having good physios that understand runners!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Indeed, early enought to fit in a very productive meeting with a physio who diagnosed something akin to "girly knee"...apparently I have a weakness in the inside left bit of my quad which is giving me knee pain but the good new is that I can build that muscle up fairly quickly and it doesn't preclude running in the long term. Apparently many women are prone to this type of weakness becuase their hips are wider hence the tag I have given it of "girlie knee". Some brilliant stuff on here this morning especially raspberries...I need to nick off now tho cos I am supposed to be working...looking forward to re reading all posts later...

---

That's just what I needed to read this evening MG, thanks so much.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

Girly Knee? :) well, that sounds far better than my 'disappointing left buttock'! :D I am really pleased that you've discovered how to treat your injury Freckle. I hope you get that knee sorted really soon. I ran with the fast lads tonight and whilst I am still trailing behind, I felt no pain (in my knee...lungs were another thing!) and I feel much stronger. The main reason, I think, is that I'm finally doing those exercises that my physio set me. Here's to us both having good physios that understand runners!

---

thanks Hes good to hear that your injury has improved too and well done on running with the fast lads...one thing about being at the back of a pack of athletic folk is you can admire the view ;) ...tee hee!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

thanks Hes good to hear that your injury has improved too and well done on running with the fast lads...one thing about being at the back of a pack of athletic folk is you can admire the view ;) ...tee hee!

---

Do hope you get that knee sorted Freckle, I'm hoping to join you for a post race shandy at Simonside! :wink:
I like your thinking re the back of the pack view! I must say there were some gorgeous legs on show at Kielder....shame about the faces though! ha ha! :w00t:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Do hope you get that knee sorted Freckle, I'm hoping to join you for a post race shandy at Simonside! :wink:
I like your thinking re the back of the pack view! I must say there were some gorgeous legs on show at Kielder....shame about the faces though! ha ha! :w00t:

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Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to make Simonside lets see what's possible but running or not I think its highly likely you will see me at the bar! Thanks for your kind words x

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to make Simonside lets see what's possible but running or not I think its highly likely you will see me at the bar! Thanks for your kind words x

---

The old Alfer will be at Simonside this year :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

I know its not spring....but I love this poem, the imagery, the sense of loss and the last four lines...

THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME

by: William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)

Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turned away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.

---

Smashing little poem that freckle. Its probably spring in Australia at the moment :wink::)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

---

I liked that one MG and what a great name for a poet :)

Here Comes Autumn

The grieving willows droop in deep mourning,
Their sad hair streaming like teardrops falling.
Here comes autumn, here comes the autumn cold
In its faded mantle woven with leaves of gold.

Various blossoms have fallen off their branch
Amidst a garden where the red mingles with blue.
The trembling breath of breeze shakes the leaves and
A few shriveled limbs like fragile bones in somber hue.

At times the moon appears with all her puzzled look.
And on the far side mountains start to veil with fog.
I hear the bitter cold stirring the wind,
But see no boats making their cross-stream run.

High in the cloudy sky the birds flee on
While the leaden air broods o'er the parting.
A few sad girls against the door lean in silence
Looking pensively into the distance

Xuan Dieu

I'm off to Vietnam tomorrow so it seemed appropriate to find a poem translated from Vietnamese :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

Here Comes Autumn

The grieving willows droop in deep mourning,
Their sad hair streaming like teardrops falling.
Here comes autumn, here comes the autumn cold
In its faded mantle woven with leaves of gold.

Various blossoms have fallen off their branch
Amidst a garden where the red mingles with blue.
The trembling breath of breeze shakes the leaves and
A few shriveled limbs like fragile bones in somber hue.

At times the moon appears with all her puzzled look.
And on the far side mountains start to veil with fog.
I hear the bitter cold stirring the wind,
But see no boats making their cross-stream run.

High in the cloudy sky the birds flee on
While the leaden air broods o'er the parting.
A few sad girls against the door lean in silence
Looking pensively into the distance

Xuan Dieu

I'm off to Vietnam tomorrow so it seemed appropriate to find a poem translated from Vietnamese :)

---

Have a good trip DT

I was reading a bit in the paper a few days ago about Google Software Engineers working on poetry translation that would translate not just words but rhyme and meter :cool: They took a famous French translation of Lewis Carroll's The Jabberwocky and tried to translate it back into English using the standard translator and it didn't come out too well :rolleyes: so I think they will have their work cut out!

Google translation of first two verses (complete poem below that)

It wabe: the toves lubricilleux
Gimble twisting in the guava,
Mimsy were the gougebosqueux
And momerade horsgrave

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, avoids
The Band frumieux to take!"

JABBERWOCKY

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.


And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!


One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.


"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.


`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Lewis Carroll