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National Day: Bulgaria

Sorry But Your Not Allowed To Go Here

You no longer provide your services in my country.
Well fine, I'm longer from my country.
United States you can not censor the internet.
I'm now surfing the web from Bulgaria.

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From Bulgaria:

Dream Catcher

Hanging by the window,
the dream catcher waits,
to catch me a dream, that's hopefully great.

Quiet and still, it waits in the night,
to catch a dream, traveling in flight.

Its web is of leather, its feathers light,
the magic it works, carries great height.

Will it bring me a lover, a funny story or song?
or, will it bring nightmares
where everything goes wrong...

The time is now near, for me to lie down
and wait for a dream that's happy and sound.

Dream catcher, dream catcher,
caution you please,
my heart is now calm, my mind is at ease

[...] Read more

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Topic of the Day: walking

Car-Free Day

Dog Show

Cat walk
Walking
For dog
To the
Dog show...

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About poetry

Yasunari Kawabata

A poetess who had died young of cancer had said in one of her poems that for her, on sleepless nights, 'the night offers toads and black dogs and corpses of the drowned.

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Poems

Wallace Stevens

Sunday Morning - III

Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.

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Bones

The dead bodies abandon the catacombs,
rising to the surface,
gradually, on their own bones,
as if they would come back to life.

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Hilaire Belloc

Tarantella

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark verandah)?

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,
Do you remember an Inn?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteeers
Who hadn't got a penny,
And who weren't paying any,
And the hammer at the doors and the din?
And the hip! hop! hap!
Of the clap
Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl
Of the girl gone chancing,

[...] Read more

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