A miscellany like Grandma’s attic in Taunton, MA or Mission Street's Thrift Town in San Francisco or a Council, ID yard sale in cloudy mid April or a celestial roadmap no one folded—you take your pick.
in Weichang morning rain moistens the light dust: the inn turns green so green with the fresh willows— please dear friend drain one more cup of ale: once west of Yang Pass, you will know no one
In the video below, guqin master Yuan Jung-Ping performs a setting of this poem dating to the Song Dynasty. It can’t be stressed often enough that Classical Chinese lyric poetry—like poetry in the Classical & Medieval European traditions—was composed for recital/singing with musical accompaniment. The qin (these days referred to as qugin) was the preferred instrument for this.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: 阳关烽火台遗址 (Ruins of a signal tower at Yang Pass) by Wiki user張骐, who makes the image available under the following licenses: This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.
Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
From Wikipedia: Steinn Steinarr (born Aðalsteinn Kristmundsson, 13 October 1908 – 25 May 1958) was an Icelandic poet.
Many Icelanders regard Steinn Steinarr as their greatest poet, although he remains almost unknown outside of Iceland, due perhaps to a lack of effective translations of his poetry.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: “Le Christ jaune” (“The Yellow Christ”): Paul Gauguin (1848–1903) – 1889; oil on canvas Public domain
towering red clouds steep to the west, the sun’s foot below the horizon— at the brushwood gate, sparrows are chirping as the wanderer returns from a thousand li’s distance— my wife & children astonished I’ve survived but recover from the shock & wipe their tears; adrift in a world in upheaval, driven by chance, it’s sheer accident I made it back alive— the neighbors throng, seated atop the wall; moved also to sighs, they moan & sob— as night grows late still more bring candles: we face each other as though in a dream
Qiang Village #2
life's dusk is pressing, & all seems empty: even homecoming brings scant joy or appeal— my tender son clings to my knees, afraid that though I’ve come back I’ll leave again; I remember how we used to seek a cool breeze & wind through the trees at the pond’s edge— now the powerful north wind is howling & I stew over a hundred worries but I know I can count on the grain harvest & already I know the ale is in the mash-press; now there’s enough to fill my cup to the brim & drink down to console my dawdling decline
Qiang Village #3
the chicken flock falls to a squawking riot: visitors arriving sets them squabbling & I shoo them up into the trees; only then I hear the knock on my brushwood gate— a few reverend village elders, they ask me about walking such a distance; & each one comes bearing abundance: ke teng zi beans poured in, first cloudy, then clear, then speak bitter words about the ale’s thin taste: no one remains to plow the fields for millet, soldiers in their armor endlessly; sons taken off to fight in the east— reverend elders may I sing a song for you? I’m shamed by your hardship & deep feeling— the song ended I gaze toward heaven, sigh: on all sides tears are wept without restraint
based on Du Fu: 羌村 qiāng cūn
Notes:
The ale referred to in these poems is Huangjiu or at least an early form of it, also known as yellow wine. It's a beverage made by brewing, though it is stronger than a typical western beer or ale, as it approaches 20% alcohol. In this case it would be made of millet, though it can also be made with rice, sorghum, or wheat.
In poem #3: ke te zing beans come from the Entada phaseoloides, which is native to East Asia & Oceania. Its vernacular English name is St Thomas Bean, but there are obvious problems in using that term in translating an 8th century Chinese poem. There are many traditional uses for these beans, but one is as an anti-inflammatory - soothing to someone who has just returned home after walking for many miles!
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: 唐朝墓室壁畫 (Tang Dynasty tomb painting) Public domain
in spring eyes closed, not awake at break of day, then aware of bird calls from all directions— by night the sound of wind & rain drawing near: blossoms have fallen: were they few or many?
the morning train’s commotion in 3:00 a.m. fog the zinc sulfide ghost glow & the whistle announcing November like a foregone conclusion, like knowing death is coming in those instants before giving everything over to sleep & the cottonwood’s forked limbs gone gray-white in moonshine not to mention the scraping of skate blades on barely frozen mud, the scraping of tires on fallen leaves on the sidestreet, this brass slide’s whining note without a home to call its own, that sense of flying above the smokestacks on frantic mechanical wings, a toboggan mired in any October orchard where these dropped Red Delicious rot brown as these chestnut leaves rot smearing sidewalks & gnarled cherry trees gleam pigment green moss without any sun as the church bell tones hollow B-natural notes across the street from a waterlogged autumn ballfield: the note comes back & comes back & comes back in the thudding hooves of two white horses because that evening train might be too late that evening train might be too late
It’s been quite some time since I featured a blues number on Robert Frost’s Banjo, but there’s a great one for you today: Mississippi Fred McDowell’s version of the old gospel tune, “Get Right, Church.” This one is the late career, electric guitar Mississippi Fred McDowell, with Tom Pomposello on bass, recorded live at the Gaslight in Chicago in 1971, though not released until 2000 on the Grapeshot Media label.
McDowell recorded “Get Right, Church” on other occasions, as well, notably as a duet with his wife Annie, who took the lead vocal on a 1965 recording made at their home in Como, Mississippi. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPk27dyudTY] The Como recording features McDowell’s acoustic playing.
Some powerful music indeed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuzXMrRdZS0
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: Postcard photo of the Illinois Central train "Panama Limited". Date circa 1940s to 1950s. This train is diesel powered but the freight train next to it is a steam locomotive. The Panama Limited no longer ran as an Illinois Central train after the 1971 Amtrak takeover of passenger rail service. This work is in the public domain because it was published in the United States between 1923 and 1977 and without a copyright notice.
Notes: Climbing towers & mountains—anywhere high with an unimpeded view—was a longstanding tradition among the poets & literati of Medieval China. Yueyang Tower overlooking Dongting Lake was a renowned spot for such excursions.
Wu & Chu were both states during the Spring & Autumn & Warring States periods. The current provinces of Hunan & Hubei were included in Chu (as well as portions of several others), while Wu included the area around modern Nanjing & east to the coast, including the region around modern Shanghai. See the map at this link for more detail.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: Yueyang Tower: Xia Yong – Yuan Dynasty
this valley of tears in the western New England lowlands even the forsythia held in abeyance, Good Friday dogwood that won’t struggle forth till May Day: in the sky, ice & sleet & steel-edged clouds—in the sky still further the Pillars of Creation erupting in stars & more stars & more stars, these infinite crowns spanning ghostly gray & crimson light years: generation & death & black stars & violet stars & white stars these violent coruscations, the four last things: ferocity, intoxication, oxygen, prayers for the dying— this valley of tears in western Oregon, camellias scarlet as so many hearts laid bare on the avenue where I walk half-sick & coughing yellow phlegm in the raw egg air & first magnolias blossoming fleshy in the rain & in memoriam a crimson rose bouquet framed in Lily of the Valley tears in this our exile these things springing from earth returning to earth in E minor in simple waltz time: in this our exile I recall the kindness you brought to the dying; beyond the sky the stellar fruit of gas cloud wombs, those de profundis membranes exploded to every particle of being into the actual four-part vox humana an organ’s diapason triad these hoofbeats of two white horses: this endless concatenation of explosions all the miles of action to absolute zero— until then we remain dying in our own good time in these lands blossoming unbroken compassion only
Steinn Steinarr (born Aðalsteinn Kristmundsson, 13 October 1908 – 25 May 1958) was an Icelandic poet.
Many Icelanders regard Steinn Steinarr as their greatest poet, although he remains almost unknown outside of Iceland, due perhaps to a lack of effective translations of his poetry.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: Storm: Ilmari Aalto – 1915; oil painting Public domain
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: Hermit Fisherman on Lake Dongting, by Chinese artist Wu Zhen, Yuan Dynasty period, ink on paper. 中文: 洞庭漁隱 Public domain
Today, Arvo Pärt with a bit of commentary. Pärt composed “Spiegel Im Spiegel” (“The Mirror in the Mirror” or “Mirrors in Mirrors”) in 1978. In the composition, he makes use of what he calls Tintinnabuli, a technique he first used in the 1976 piano piece, “Für Alina”. According to Wikipedia:
Musically, Pärt's tintinnabular music is characterized by two types of voice, the first of which (dubbed the "tintinnabular voice") arpeggiates the tonic triad, and the second of which moves diatonically in stepwise motion. The works often have a slow and meditative tempo, and a minimalist approach to both notation and performance.
“Spiegel Im Spiegel” was originally scored for violin & piano, but versions employing the viola or the cello, as in today’s video, are also common. In addition, there are versions for cello & harp, French horn & piano, (as well as using various other horns & woodwinds); & even for guitar & cello; & this doesn’t exhaust the list of combinations.
The title suggests the “infinity mirror”, in which a mirror contained within a mirror gives the impression of an infinite view.
This video features the playing of cellist Leonhard Roczek & pianist Herbert Schuch, recorded during the Salzburg Mozart Week in 2014. It’s a sublime performance of truly sublime music.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons: Alsace, Bas-Rhin, Marmoutier, Église abbatiale Saint-Etienne, Sol carrelé en marbre du chœur (Marmoutier Abbey: Marble tiled floor in the choir): Ralph Hammann - 2014
quarter moon’s waning curve reflecting silver sun in that jet sky without stars; & so much ambient sound vibrating you don’t notice till the power goes out— the plaintive A mediant note rises from the cello’s body: (when the new moon arrives in a handful of days reflecting nothing) a photo snapped on a hill in Ireland: rocks hills no trees cloud & mist looking back in time: the exposure taken the instant between sounds no wind even whistling despite your dark curls swept up in a breeze: piano bass notes articulating green earth, the right hand dark water rippling, the cello bows a gray white sky creating snow embracing that aluminum rowboat on the river reflecting a gray white afternoon fifty winters past: an infinite surface enclosing a finite volume—I wonder when day will break gray white to the east? little bird fly to heaven & start now in the dark the journey only takes all the lifetimes you have
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