Thursday, March 23, 2006

Poetry

Yes, campers, poetry, even though it's not something in which I generally engage. Nevertheless, here are my two favorite spring poems. The first one is from an old coworker, who heard someone stand up in a Greenwich Village coffee shop and recite it on the vernal equinox and who thereafter would call his wife on the first day of spring to recite it to her. Feel free to share it with whomever you like:

It's spring
It's spring
It's spring
Let's fuck

The other one I first saw on a bus; the local public transportation system had a "poetry in motion" thing for awhile. I especially like the last two lines, because they remind me to lighten the fuck up.

Spring Watching Pavilion

A gentle spring evening arrives
Airily, unclouded by worldly dust.
Three times the bell tolls echoes like a wave.
We see heaven upside down in sad puddles.
Love's vast sea cannot be emptied.
And springs of grace flow easily everywhere.
Where is nirvana?
Nirvana is here, nine times out of ten.

- from the Vietnamese of Ho Xuan Huong

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