Thursday, September 21, 2017

September Moon


(8 quatrains)

1. new moon

the clothesline shadow sharpens on white clapboards:
the wooden pins & dish towels float static

between lilac’s silhouette & the window:
sun crescent at the moon’s invisible edge

2. waxing crescent

crickets babble like invisible water
from all directions at once; white headlights flow

east-west, almost steady; afloat in heaven’s
black river: the crescent moon, luminous leaf

3. half moon

the smears where plums dropped to the concrete grow darker
where black plum leaves screen the streetlights; white roses

flank the dim sidewalk, but it’s clear they’ve gone past—
half moon in nameless purple sky: gaze elsewhere

4. waxing gibbous

kitchen light walks through the backdoor screen, stretches
out on the swing chair a low ginkgo bough holds

up—nothing else is stirring, not even that
moon half hidden in the ginkgo’s higher limbs
 
5. full moon

that sconce light on the sky blue wall shines inside
the picture window along with the porch light

across the avenue; in the backyard the
moon burns incandescent yellow by itself
 
6. waning gibbous

electric crimson roses climb the stop sign,
but the blooms don’t seem to listen; sunflowers

bask in light off clapboards: beside a building
made of windows, the waning moon hangs heavy

7. last quarter

clouds at the horizon are such as they are,
far west of the red-lettered gas station sign—

doubtful we’ll comprehend them in this lifetime—
the half moon’s vanishing in more than one sense

8. waning crescent

that flash of a small white plane overhead; I
mistook it for the moon, but it turns north—two

cabbage whites thread through a garden that’s gone past—
this crescent’s a paler cloud, off by itself



Jack Hayes
© 2017

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Gitimalya



Welcome to another edition of the Sunday music series.

We continue our September feature on composer Toru Takemitsu with a version of his 1974 piece “Gitimalya” (sub-titled “A Bouquet of Songs”). “Gitimalya” is scored for marimba & orchestra; here the marimba is played by Luigi Gaggero, with the accompaniment of the Orchester der Komischen Oper Berlin.

There’s a lovely & brief write up about this composition at Allmusic, which can be found at this link.

Hope you enjoy it.


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Stage for the presentation of the album "A Bonsai Garden" by Brian Banks, Musical Wednesdays program within the week.” Photo by Wiki user Fraguando (link provided is empty), who makes it available under the Creative CommonsAttribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.





Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Time & the River


(Eastbank Esplanade: 9/2/17)

green river like evening air stretching its
hands between the maples beside a distant

river—mother would recognize it in oils,
a canvas I could picture but didn’t paint—

but it’s afternoon & water has little
to do with this solid state blue sky; liquid

fragments stitched with boat wakes & memories &
glimpses in the direction this current flows


the pigeons & starlings feeding on bread crumbs
strewn by park benches are skittish in the heat—

the scrub jay perched on the galvanized railing
turns & turns again, darts to the madrona’s

foliage—a pair of Canada geese on
a sinking log below the bramble cascade

stretch wings, preen in unison; under Burnside
bridge other geese move on indigo shadows


I’m not young; the motorboat churns downriver,
bow lifted; a paddleboat moseys past those

floating geese, but the geese don’t stir; you’re standing
in sunlight, holding the dog on her leash in

a photograph in my mind that’s also you
standing by the railing above green green flow:

a freight train processes west on the Steel Bridge,
its passing infinite for those few minutes


Jack Hayes
© 2017

Sunday, September 10, 2017

A Flock Descends Into the Pentagonal Garden


 
We return with music for your Sunday, & continue with our September feature on composer Toru Takemitsu.

Today’s selection is the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra’s rendition of Takemitsu’s 1977 composition, “A Flock Descends Into the Pentagonal Garden”. Gene Tyranny, writing for the Allmusic site, described the composer’s inspiration as follows:

This beautifully titled composition for orchestra was inspired by a dream in which the composer saw a flock of white birds, led by a single black bird swirling around and then descending into a pentagonal or star-shaped garden. The garden, however, turned out to be the star on the back of artist Marcel Duchamp's head in the famous photograph by Man Ray.

I’d encourage you to read the entire Allmusic entry on “A Flock Descends Into the Pentagonal Garden”, which can be found at the link given above, as well as the essay on the piece at this link.

Hope you enjoy the music.



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“A painting  of birds and  flowers”: Kitayama Kangan(1767 - 1801). Circa 1800.
Public domain.


Thursday, September 7, 2017

And don’t tell me anything


 
And don’t tell me anything


And don’t tell me anything,
that someone can kill perfectly,
since, sweating ink,
someone does all he can, don’t tell me…

We’ll come back, gentlemen, to see ourselves with apples,
the creature will pass by late,
Aristotle’s expression armed
with grand wooden hearts,
and that of Heraclitus grafted onto that of Marx,
that of the gentle pealing roughly…
It’s what my throat told me:
someone can kill perfectly.

Gentlemen,
kind sirs, we’ll come back without parcels;
until then I demand, will demand of my frailty
the day’s stress, which,
as I see, was already waiting for me on my bed.
And I ask my hat for memory’s ill-fated analogy,
because sometimes I assume my immense mournfulness with success,
because sometimes I drown in my neighbor’s voice,
and endure
numbering the years on kernels of corn,
brushing off my clothes to the a dead man’s tune,
or sitting drunk in my coffin…



César Vallejo, “Y no me digan nada”
Translation by Jack Hayes
© 2017



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Héraclite” (“Heraclitus”): Johannes Moreelse; circa 1630.
Public domain



 

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Two Octets from Late August


Amazing Grace Octet
(8/23/17)

this morning's overcast has wound up shredded;
from the next block a hammer’s thud, a nail gun’s

staccato echo an invisible world—
the engine of a parked car turns over

but it doesn't seem to catch the attention
of that lonesome crow perched on the wire

as usual—twin sunflowers try to find
their place amidst unmade clouds—I once was lost


                      


The Time Octet
(8/24/17)

the future exists already but like so
many other places I haven't been there—

autumn comes to call on the avenue this
noon; one red petunia petal falls from

the balcony, pretending to be a leaf;
outside the tea shop a woman pulls on her

sweater; the bus comes, either late or early:
my shadow moves ahead of me, to the side



Jack Hayes
© 2017

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Dao De Jing 18



Dao De Jing 18


When the Great Way was abandoned, humaneness & morality became abundant;
Wit & cleverness emerged, & hypocrisy abounded;
When harmony no longer held through the six close kinships*, filial sons grew abundant;
When the nation was benighted with disorder, loyal ministers grew plentiful.

Laozi, 道德經
Translation by John Hayes
Unlike with my original poetry & poetry translations, I don’t asset a copyright claim on my translation of the Dao De Jing. It may be freely used under the terms of the Creative Commons license.



Note:
* 六親 [liù qīn]
six close relatives, namely: father 父[fu4], mother 母[mu3], older brothers 兄[xiong1], younger brothers 弟[di4], wife 妻[qi1], male children 子[zi3]



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Bagua diagram by Zhao Huiqian ("River Chart spontaneously [generated] by Heaven and Earth" 圖河.自地天). This image may in fact be a reproduction of the diagram by Hu Wei in his Yitu mingbian (‘Clarification of the diagrams in the book of changes’), dated 1706.” circa 1370; 1706. Public domain.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Eclipse (For Biwa And Shakuhachi)



Welcome back to the Sunday music feature. In September we’ll be featuring the music of Toru Takemitsu.

Takemitsu is a major composer & a few blog posts over the course of a month can serve only as the most cursory introduction & exploration of his music. I’d strongly encourage those who are interested in what they hear to seek out more information at the links given with each post & also to seek out more of Takemitsu’s music, which is readily available.

We begin the series with Takemitsu’s 1966 composition, “Eclipse. This is scored for traditional Japanese instruments, the shakuhachi & the biwa. The former is a bamboo flute, while the latter is a type of lute.
Although Takemitsu was strongly influenced by Western music (Debussy, Messiaen, & Webern particularly) & indeed at one point expressed an aversion to traditional Japanese music—because it reminded him of World War II militarism—he began incorporating elements of Japanese music into his compositions under the influence of John Cage beginning in the early 1960s. Takemitsu’s 1967 composition “November Steps” for biwa, shakuhachi, & orchestra is related to “Eclipse”.

Hope you enjoy the music



Images link to their sources on Wiki Commons:
  1. “Performer playing shakuhachi in 60th Himeji oshiro festival, 2009”. Photo by Wiki user Corpse Reviver, who makes it available under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.
  2. “A selection of biwa in a Japanese museum”. Photo by Wiki user Jnn, who makes it available under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.1 Japan license.





Friday, September 1, 2017

I am going to speak of hope


I am going to speak of hope

I don’t suffer this pain as César Vallejo. I don’t grieve now as an artist, as a man or even as a simple living being. I don’t suffer this pain as a catholic, or a muslim, or an atheist. Today I only suffer. If I weren’t called César Vallejo, I’d still suffer this same pain. If I weren’t an artist, I’d still suffer with it. If I weren’t a man or even a living being, I’d still suffer with it. If I weren’t a catholic, an atheist or a muslim, I’d still suffer with it. Today I suffer from further down. Today I only suffer.

I grieve now without explanations. My pain’s so deep it has neither a cause nor the lack of a cause. What would its cause be? Where is that thing of such importance it might leave off being the cause? Nothing is its cause; nothing has been able to leave off being its cause. From what has this pain been born, by itself? My pain’s from the north wind & the south wind, like neutered eggs that some rare birds lay conceived from the wind. If my bride were dead, my pain would be the same. If they’d sliced my throat to the root, my pain would be the same. If life were, in short, some other way, my pain would be the same. Today I suffer from higher up. Today I only suffer.

I look at the hungry man’s pain & see that his hunger walks so far from my pain that if I starved myself to death, a blade of grass would turn up at my grave at least. The same with the lover. How generative his blood is, unlike mine without spring or consummation.

I used to believe that all things in the universe were, inevitably, fathers or sons. But here’s my pain today, neither father nor son. It lacks a back for nightfall, just as it has too much chest for daybreak & if they put it in a bright room, it wouldn’t cast a shadow. Today I suffer, come what may. Today I only suffer.



César Vallejo, “Voy a hablar de la esperanza”
Translation by Jack Hayes
© 2017



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Schieles Wohnzimmer in Neulengbach” (“Schiele's Room in Neulengbach”): Egon Schiele. oil on panel; 1911.
Public domain.




Thursday, August 31, 2017

August Moon


(8 quatrains)

1. new moon

chrome hubcap complete with bolts lies on blacktop
as if about to set below the curb’s rise—

yucca stalks against white sky, blossoms faded:
moon’s blank disc invisible past the pink clouds

2. waxing crescent

twilight’s losing its cobalt blue momentum;
it comes down to three red lights suspended in

a horizon silver as that one stopped car:
pinprick planet next to this swelling crescent

3. half moon

bare chestnut limbs a character inked on this
violet sky—what does their radical mean?

white musk odor of Queen Anne’s lace on the lawn:
half moon bowing its head in recollection

4. waxing gibbous

those nameless trees on the side street look that much
darker than the sky; bus stop shelter absorbs

the red light’s spill, but is otherwise empty—
moon out of round against a purple curtain

5. full moon

three moths flash off & on, eccentric spirals
through the security light’s high amber heat—

out of sight between dark houses, cars murmur:
moon catches metallic sun in empty night

6. waning gibbous

the Siamese cat materializes
from the patio shikimi, blending with

patched concrete, parched grass, illuminated leaves:
moon rises past the roof without commotion

7. last quarter

this sun highlights the galvanized downspout’s joints;
the hummingbird feeder, dangling from a beam,

is filled with sugar water, & plums shine ripe,
but the half moon’s upturned bowl sinks into clouds

8. waning crescent

the parking strip sunflower’s grown too heavy
to look up at the black & white prop plane as

it circles that crow standing in Queen Anne’s lace;
this moon has grown so faint you’d need to look twice


Jack Hayes
© 2017

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Dao De Jing 17


Dao De Jing 17


The one who ranks highest is scarcely known by the people;
The one who ranks second, they love & praise;
The one who ranks third, they fear;
The one who ranks fourth, they despise.
If you have no trust, no trust will be shown you in return.
The sage removes himself, as if his words are precious.
When the work is done & duties performed successfully, the people say: “We did this ourselves!”

Laozi, 道德經
Translation by John Hayes
Unlike with my original poetry & poetry translations, I don’t asset a copyright claim on my translation of the Dao De Jing. It may be freely used under the terms of the Creative Commons license.


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Statue of a Taoist sage. 16th century. Photo by Wiki user BurgererSF, who makes it available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal PublicDomain Dedication.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Sunflower Sky Octet



Sunflower Sky Octet
(8/17/17)
                        for Sandy

it’s August & the garden sunflower grows
heavy above the rosemary & the lawn’s

chaotic Queen Anne’s lace; it might even droop
away from unclouded sky—nothing to see

there except the sun & you can’t look at that
long—but see what it inscribes casting shadows:

this that weary glad hungry loving thee me
look at the zenith! the pale yellow petals!


Jack Hayes
© 2017



Checking in on the poetry front with the title poem from the most recent collection, which will when finished in early October complete the trilogy started last autumn with Crow on the Wire. The second book, The High Lonesome Sound, should be available within the next couple of weeks. Thanks as always for your interest in my poetry.


Photo © 2017 by  Sandy Pullella. All rights reserved on poem & photograph.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Myself When Young



Welcome back to Sunday music on Robert Frost’s Banjo—& this week it’s even posting on Sunday.

We’re wrapping up this month’s feature on Dorothy Ashby with the opening track from her 1970 Cadet album The Rubaiyat of DorothyAshby. This release not only features Ashby as a vocalist, but she also plays koto in addition to harp. The Allmusic review I’ve linked to the album title is well worth a read; reviewer Thom Jurek concludes his write-up with this statement: “For those who remain open, this may be her greatest moment on record.”

For those who are interested, here’s a Wikisource link to Edward Fitzgerald’s famous 19th century translation of “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”; the poems provide the text for Ashby’s songs.

Hope you’ve enjoyed this look at Ashby’s work & have been inspired to explore her music more thoroughly.



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:

“This is the cover art for The Rubaiyat of Dorothy Ashby by the artist Dorothy Ashby. The cover art copyright is believed to belong to the label, Cadet, or the graphic artist(s).” Wiki Commons claims “Fair Use” for the image.




Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Django



My apologies for how late this “Sunday music” post is!

We continue our DorothyAshby series with a track from her 1984 Phillips album, Django/Misty; here we have Ashby’s take on John Lewis’ composition, “Django”, named of course after the great guitarist Django Reinhardt.

There isn’t much background information available on the Django/Misty recording. Ashby recorded this & Concierto de Aranjuez for Phillips in 1984; they were her final albums as a leader, & indeed came after a 14 year absence as a leader on a recording. Before Django/Misty, her previous lead had been on the 1970 Cadet release, The Rubaiyat of Dorothy Ashby. Ashby did considerable work as a sideman in the 1970s, however, appearing with such notables as Stanley Turrentine, Bill Withers, Billy Preston, Freddie Hubbard, as well as on Stevie Wonder’s great Songs in the Key of Life album—yes, that’s Ashby playing harp on “If It’s Magic”.

We’ll return next Sunday (I hope next Sunday!) with the final installment in the Ashby series. Enjoy!


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Per Wiki Commons: This is the cover art for the album Django/Misty by the artist Dorothy Ashby. The cover art copyright is believed to belong to Philips Records.
Wiki Commons claims “Fair Use” for the image.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Games



We return to Sunday music with this month’s featured artist, jazz harpist Dorothy Ashby.

Today’s selection is Ashby’s composition “Games” from her 1968 Cadet release, Afro-Harping. This album features Ashby backed by an apparently unknown orchestra (including theremin on some cuts). Allmusic reviewer Ron Wynn describes Afro-Harping as “the best and most complete album done by jazz harpist …Dorothy Ashby”; Joshua Weiner, writing for the all about jazz site finds the album more a product of its particular time, a proto example of acid jazz, but still describes the music as “fascinating”, & goes on to write:

Those interested in 60s mod will enjoy it for its own sake, while others will be provided with an interest-piquing introduction to a largely forgotten instrument, and musician, in jazz.

Hope you enjoy it.



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“This is the cover art for Afro-Harping by the artist Dorothy Ashby. The cover art copyright is believed to belong to the label, Cadet, or the graphic artist(s).” Wiki Commons claims fair use for this low-resolution image.


Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Dao De Jing 16



Dao De Jing 16


Come to utmost emptiness,
preserve deep stillness.
The ten thousand things arise as one,
& as we see return to their source.
Returning to the source is called stillness—returning thus is unchanging fate;
where the unchanging is known there’s wisdom,
where the unchanging isn’t known, there’s lawlessness.
Knowledge of the unchanging embraces all, & embracing all is justice.
justice then is majesty, majesty then is divine, the divine then is the Way;
the Way endures through time.
One who follows the Way is free from peril even until death.


Laozi, 道德經
Translation by John Hayes
Unlike with my original poetry & poetry translations, I don’t asset a copyright claim on my translation of the Dao De Jing. It may be freely used under the terms of the Creative Commons license.


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Four Immortals Saluting Longevity”: Shang Xi, early Ming Dynasty, hanging scroll, Color on silk. (“The immortals are from left to right: Shide standing on a broom, Hanshan standing on a banana leaf, Iron-Crutch Li standing on a crutch, and Liu Haichan riding a 'Chan Chu' three footed toad. The being riding the crane is the Longevity Star God”).
Public domain.


Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Distant Footsteps



Distant Footsteps

My father’s sleeping. His august countenance
implies a gentle heart;
just now so sweet…
if there’s anything bitter in him, that will be me.

there’s loneliness in this household; praying;
and there’s no news of the children today.
My father wakes, auscultates
the flight into Egypt, the stanching goodbye.
He’s now so close;
if there’s anything distant in him, that will be me.

And my mother walks there in the orchards,
savoring a flavor already without flavor.
She’s now such softness,
such a wing, such an exit, such love.

There’s loneliness in the home without any racket,
without news, without green, without children.
And if anything’s broken this afternoon,
and falls and creaks,
it’s two roads, white, curved.
My heart moves along them on foot.


César Vallejo, “Los pasos lejanos”
Translation by Jack Hayes
© 2017


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
"Flucht nach Ägypten": Hans Sandreuter; oil on canvas; 1885.
Public domain.



 


Sunday, August 6, 2017

Nabu Corfa



Today we begin our August feature for Sunday music; this month’s feature artist is jazz harpist DorothyAshby. & when we say “harp” here, we don’t mean the slang for a harmonica; we mean an actual harp.

Ashby is an overlooked figure in jazz history; in general, the canon hasn’t given their due to women instrumentalists, & has rather focused on including vocalists. But Ashby was a true innovator, a composer, & a virtuoso player who was able to adapt the harp—an unusual instrument in a jazz context—to bebop. Indeed,the only other well-known jazz harpist being Alice Coltrane, who was also a pianist.

Today’s selection is “Nabu Corfa”, from Ashby’s 1965 Atlantic release The Fantastic Jazz Harp of DorothyAshby; interestingly, the recording session for the album took place in 1958. The session featured Ashby as leader on harp, backed by bassist Richard Davis, drummer Grady Tate, percussionist Willie Bobo, & a horn section consisting of Jimmy Cleveland, Quentin Jackson, Sonny Russo, & Tony Studd (though the latter’s trombone isn’t heard on this selection). “Nabu Corfa” is an original Ashby composition.

Enjoy!


Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Autographed photo of photo of American musician Dorothy Ashby. Wiki Commons lists the source of the photo as this link, & claims “fair use”. There is apparently no public domain or copyleft photo of Ashby.



Friday, August 4, 2017

Walking Maranasati Double Octet


(7/13/17)

I’d like to forgive my lungs’ malfunction, ask
my lungs’ forgiveness too; cigarette smoke sky

billowing congestion all the way up to
the afterlife, its sequestered, collapsed stars:

coffee shop windows lined with brown paper, crow
gliding above the roof is the logical

outcome, a black breath emerging to after-
noon; one maple branch hangs broken, leaves expired—


I-5 traffic circulates under my feet—
the overpass quakes through its spine & rib cage—

three salsify stalks quake too on sunburnt grass;
is it traffic is it the north wind the crow

intersects gliding east into the past, in-
to overcast static in mutable flow,

this body walking west where the two trains pass,
my breath in sequence with the walk sign’s countdown


Jack Hayes
© 2017

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

The Gypsy Woman



The Gypsy Woman


The gypsy knew in advance
Our lives are crossed by nights
We bade her fare-thee-well and then
Hope withdrew from these wells

Clumsy as a tame bear love
Danced upright whenever we wished
And the bluebird molted its feathers
And the mendicants lost their Ave

We all know well enough we’re damned
But hope of love along the way
Makes us ponder hand in hand
What the gypsy had foretold


Apollinaire “La tzigane”
Translation by Jack Hayes © 2017



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Gitana de perfil” (“Profile of a Gypsy”): Isidre Nonell  (1872–1911). Oil on canvas; 1902. Public domain.



Tuesday, August 1, 2017

July Moon


(8 quatrains)

1. new moon

swallowtail glides black through a cherry tree’s shade;
the parking strip’s California poppies:

an assemblage of orange decoupage suns—
whatever moon there is: blue in this high sky

2. waxing crescent

three lime-green trikes lined up on the concrete porch,
one faded red ride-on fire truck parked below

on the patio—playground gate’s still open:
crescent drifts off to sleep in gathering clouds

3. half moon

the hummingbird hovers, wings shifting between
what’s seen & what’s imagined; it balances

at sunset, a silhouette near the black plum:
half moon’s equilibrium in fading blue

4. waxing gibbous

the scrub jay’s plumage forms a map of the sky
except for the sunset’s yellow cirrus glow;

traffic seems invisible as the bird flies:
the moon’s silver eyeball is gazing higher

5. full moon

the clematis has unfurled its purple cross
in the shadow of the board fence, below the

string of prayer flags—one white flag soaks up white light:
moon rising through lattice into black heaven

6. waning gibbous

floor lamp casts a white oval against the wall,
white pedestal fan churns the living room air;

slats on the white blinds have been slanted open:
moon bracketed by clouds rises between them

7. last quarter

the sidewalk’s hump over the tree’s knotted root
is strewn with ripe cherries, some crushed, some intact;

a single fruit falls, rolls down the sloped pavement:
half moon tips toward the branches’ tangled curve

8. waning crescent

white daylily blossoms speckled orange nod
sleepy above the sidewalk in this noon breeze--

marigolds reflect an occasional sun’s
bloom between clouds that hide the moon’s last petal



Jack Hayes
© 2017

Monday, July 31, 2017

Tonight I Think I'm Gonna Go Downtown



My apologies for the Sunday Music feature appearing on Monday afternoon! But that’s kind of how things are this summer—& it is, as they say, “all good”.

We finish our look at the music of Jimmie Dale Gilmore with a relatively recent performance of one of his original Flatlanders songs. Gilmore also recorded a version for his 1991 Elektra release, After Awhile.

In the video I’ve included with this post, Gilmore is joined by Butch Hancock, another of the original Flatlanders, & their sons. For those who just want the song & not the banter beforehand, skip ahead to 5:00 minutes into the video—but you’ll miss a wonderful conversation between Gilmore & Hancock if you do.

Hope you’ve enjoyed this look at Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s music, & that it’s inspired you to look more deeply into his work & the recordings of the Flatlanders as well. We’ll return with a new featured artist in August—& will make every effort to post the Sunday Music features on Sunday.



Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Photo of Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Colin Gilmore at Deep Eddy Pool in Austin Texas, June 2004. Photo by Steve Hopson. More information about photographer and other images at Stevehopson.com. Steve Hopson makes this image available under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 Generic license.






Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Cornel Dogwood Grove



Cornel Dogwood Grove


bearing fruit it’s vermilion & green,
as if its blossoms opened anew—
to keep your guest in these mountains
offer him this hibiscus cup


Translation by Jack Hayes © 2017
based on Wang Wei: 茱萸沜
zhū yú pàn


Image links to its source in Wiki Commons:
Cornus officinalis's fruits; photo by Dalgial, who makes it available under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unportedlicense.