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Literature
The Fuguist
Jonah hated Mars. He hated everything about it. Every minute he spent there he was plagued by a vague feeling of unrest: Mars was not quite foreign, not quite familiar, an endless mirage or coma dream. Maybe he was dead, and maybe this was purgatory. Sometimes he considered praying at night, asking for forgiveness, just in case, for whatever sin might have banished him there, but then he looked out over the barren, forsaken wasteland and thought his time was much better spent sleeping, or walking.
But he hated how soft the ground was, how little clouds of dust exploded under his soles with every step, and how he could turn around and see his
Literature
15 Translations of Classical Haiku
..
summer's night
from cloud to cloud
dashing moon
(Ranko)
for me, who leaves
for you, who remains
two autumns
Literature
Scrutiny
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
~ T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
I am going through the keyless gate
to watch and wait,
to wander here and there among the proud,
among the white and old whose wisdom rots, repressed, untold:
the soporific royals wreathed in leaves of gold.
And to them I shall read aloud from the Book,
read of the sins their lips have took
and upon me they shall look and patiently reflect
I am lost in my own depth, I will say
in a slight, impartial way
(for I lack violets and an antic prin
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Comments18
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You did this quite well.
What I love about Haiku is that they're short and sweet. They say exactly what they need to, in little words. I love that.
Nice work. ~
What I love about Haiku is that they're short and sweet. They say exactly what they need to, in little words. I love that.
Nice work. ~