Why must I suffer this abiding sadness?
LEAVINGS
Why must I suffer this abiding sadness? Life is as brief as a morning mushroom. To lose so many loved ones in the space of such a short life -- who can endure it? Thoughts of these things fill me with pain. The grief and sorrow... nearly impossible. What can be done now? Who can say? It's time to head home to the mountains. -- Han Shan I TAKE YOUR POEMS TO THE MOUNTAINS (for Bob) Losing you was hard, my poet friend. It's harder still to keep on without you. So much grief and pain... What now? I take your poems to the mountains. Doug Westendorp
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I am connected to a small group of poets, led by my brother, David. Each of us writes poems, once or twice a year, based on what David has called "workpoints." These are single words or phrases, even whole sentences sometimes, that we have agreed to write about. Or around. The workpoint needn't be the title, or even the topic. It just needs to relate in some way to our poem. Lately I have been translating ancient Chinese poetry, and I have enjoyed pairing some of those poems with my own, connecting both to the workpoint. I self-published a book last year of my recent contributions. If you are curious, you can find it at http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/1664809.
The new poems just came due now this past week, and I am quite excited to share some of the more contemplative ones with you. Here is my submission for the workpoint, "Calendar," my translation first, then my original poem. NO CARES To live on Cold Mountain means no cares, no anxieties -- never even a stray thought. Occasionally I'll scratch a poem on a rock, otherwise I drift like a boat in life's current. -- Han Shan, 9th century China ROCK-SCRATCH POEM Living alone, never seeing anyone... A calendar is of no use to me here. Each day finds its way into the next; the new moon rises when it pleases. -- Doug Westendorp |
Doug WestendorpI have written some poetry, and translated a few short poems from the ancient Chinese. Archives
August 2023
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