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Agenda Bender
 
Saturday, May 13, 2006  

Your Jeweled Axles Gleaming in the Sun


Three selections from Translations From the Chinese by Arthur Waley (copyright 1919 and 1941)

from The Great Summons (fourth century B.C.)

...A summer-house with spacious rooms
And a high hall with beams stained red;
A little closet in the southern wing
Reached by a private stair.
And round the house a covered way should run
Where horses might be trained.
And sometimes riding, sometimes going afoot
You shall explore, O Soul, the parks of spring;
Your jewelled axles gleaming in the sun
And yoke inlaid with gold;
Or amid orchises and sandal-trees
Shall walk in the dark woods.
O Soul come back and live for these delights!

from Woman (third century A.D.)

How sad it is to be a woman!
Nothing on earth is held so cheap.
Boys stand leaning at the door
LIke Gods fallen out of Heaven...


The Scholar in the Narrow Street (third century A.D.)

Flap, flap, the captive bird in the cage
Beating its wings against the four corners.
Depressed, depressed the scholar in the narrow street:
Clasping a shadow, he dwells in an empty house.
When he goes out, there is nowhere for him to go:
Bushes and brambles block up his path.
He composes a memorial, but it is rejected and unread,
He is left stranded, like a fish in a dry pond.
Without it - he has not a single farthing of salary:
Within - there is not a peck of grain in his larder.
His relations upbraid him for his lack of success:
His friends and callers daily decrease in number.
Su Ch'in used to go preaching in the North
And Li Ssu sent a memorandum to the West.
I once hoped to pluck the fruits of life:
But now alas, they are all withered and dry.
Though one drinks at a river, one cannot drink more
than a bellyful;
Enough is good, but there is no use in satiety.
The bird in a forest can perch but on one bough,
And this should be the wise man's pattern.

4:30 AM

Sunday, May 07, 2006
 

Harlot's Goss


I was a hospitality suite hooker for my country. My company, I mean. Same dif. It was great. Dusty Foggo, don't go! Or at least wake me up before you go-go. He would blow up in my face (dusty it wasn't) and now it's blowing up in his face.

And Randy "Duke" Cunningham, I will always treasure those earmarks. On my pillow. And on my back.

Stay classy, Chula Vista .

3:56 AM