This world, I try not to see,
still dogs me like a shadow.
--Minamoto no Toshiyori
still dogs me like a shadow.
--Minamoto no Toshiyori
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Friday, June 25, 2010
Another Tanka I've Translated into a Haiku--What Am I Missing?
Foam on the water
I am, that still wants to live
for a thousand years.
--Otomo no Yakamochi
I am, that still wants to live
for a thousand years.
--Otomo no Yakamochi
The Tortures of the Damned II
Those who believe that, in answer to their prayers, God will redirect the lives of others, will spend each day in Hell broken down on a lonely road. As they pray for help, a car will appear and they'll be offered a ride. One day the car will be involved in a fiery crash at the first intersection. The next day, the driver will be a pervert with terrible hygiene. The next day the driver will kick them out of the car when they praise the wrong god for their deliverance. The next day...
My First Full-Length Li Bai
We Say Here Our Last Goodbye
Blue mountains to the north of town.
White water to the east of town.
We stop here for a last goodbye.
Thistledown flies a thousand li.
Now you must be a floating cloud,
and your old friend, the setting sun.
Waving, each goes his separate way.
Parting horses nicker and neigh.
--Li Bai
Blue mountains to the north of town.
White water to the east of town.
We stop here for a last goodbye.
Thistledown flies a thousand li.
Now you must be a floating cloud,
and your old friend, the setting sun.
Waving, each goes his separate way.
Parting horses nicker and neigh.
--Li Bai
Sunday, June 20, 2010
First Ghazal
When the forsythia burst into blathering flame
and the star stopped over the barn, she knew.
When she would not give him a lock of hair
or the apple from under her arm, he knew.
Thousands of hogs. The woodlot, the garden gone.
This was not the farm she knew.
Oh well, he had his harness to mend,
and she, her socks to darn, he knew.
They'd come to her for a garlic wreath
or the words to that charm she knew.
Ron would have kept to he and she,
but his name was proper form, he knew.
and the star stopped over the barn, she knew.
When she would not give him a lock of hair
or the apple from under her arm, he knew.
Thousands of hogs. The woodlot, the garden gone.
This was not the farm she knew.
Oh well, he had his harness to mend,
and she, her socks to darn, he knew.
They'd come to her for a garlic wreath
or the words to that charm she knew.
Ron would have kept to he and she,
but his name was proper form, he knew.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
The Wonder-Filled World of the Fifth-Grade Boy
Every day
of a cold and snowless week
we paused at Eastway and Royalton
where a big, round, bright green hocker
was frozen to the walk,
then continued on
through the bejeweled morning
to school.
of a cold and snowless week
we paused at Eastway and Royalton
where a big, round, bright green hocker
was frozen to the walk,
then continued on
through the bejeweled morning
to school.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Some Disconnected Thoughts on Immigration
1.
Calling illegal immigrants "undocumented" makes it sound as if there is merely a technical problem with their papers not being in order. This may be desired or desirable--but it is not the case. They are illegal. I think the analogy is supposed to be that of changing from from a pejorative to a neutral term. But "illegal" is not a pejorative way of saying "undocumented." It is objectively different--and more accurate.
2.
I have a good deal of sympathy for most people who are here illegally. Most have come for no nefarious purpose, but merely to work. And by our lack of serious enforcement, over several decades, of immigration laws both in terms of stopping people from coming and of preventing businesses from employing them, we have made coming here illegally seem more like part of a game than a criminal act. So now many have been here for years or decades, mostly as decent members of their communities and as cheap and docile labor for our business enterprises. Thus many now have deep roots here. They are enmeshed in networks of family and friends, some of whom are legal, some not.
Calling illegal immigrants "undocumented" makes it sound as if there is merely a technical problem with their papers not being in order. This may be desired or desirable--but it is not the case. They are illegal. I think the analogy is supposed to be that of changing from from a pejorative to a neutral term. But "illegal" is not a pejorative way of saying "undocumented." It is objectively different--and more accurate.
2.
I have a good deal of sympathy for most people who are here illegally. Most have come for no nefarious purpose, but merely to work. And by our lack of serious enforcement, over several decades, of immigration laws both in terms of stopping people from coming and of preventing businesses from employing them, we have made coming here illegally seem more like part of a game than a criminal act. So now many have been here for years or decades, mostly as decent members of their communities and as cheap and docile labor for our business enterprises. Thus many now have deep roots here. They are enmeshed in networks of family and friends, some of whom are legal, some not.
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