From The Most Distant Time
"The autumn wind blows white clouds
About the sky. Grass turns brown.
Leaves fall. Wild geese fly south.
The last flowers bloom, orchids
And chrysanthemums with their
Bitter perfume. I dream of
That beautiful face I can
Never forget. I go for
A trip on the river. The barge
Rides the current and dips with
The white capped waves. They play flutes
And drums, and the rowers sing.
I am happy for a moment
And then the old sorrow comes back.
I was young only a little while,
And now I am growing old."
The Emperor Wu of Han
Have you got a favourite poem?
“I live like a poet and I’ll die like a poet” - Bob Dylan
"Everybody is making love,
or else expecting rain."
What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through The Fire, Charles Bukowski
"Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment."