14 Saturday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Tags
(Nakanokimi being serenaded)
To switch affection
to Nakanokimi was
to replace a love
unrequited, for something
less passionate and,
for her, humiliating.
The vesper bells rang.
The prince arrived, unhappy.
She was relenting at last,
in spite of herself.
He was irresistible.
He left for Sanjo,
to make plans to bring her back.
Kaoru wished he’d done the same.
13 Friday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Tags
(Lotus Sutra; Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Sugawara Mitsushige, 1257AD. Acc no: 53.7.3)
The Lotus Sutra
was continually read.
Twelve priests in fine voice
took turns to comfort the girl.
In a former life,
perhaps they had been as one.
The dawn gales were cruel,
mimcking the plovers’ cries.
Sins from a previous life
were bringing sorrow.
How could he relinquish her?
She was going to die
and he would not survive her.
He would fulfil her last wish.
11 Wednesday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Writing
(British Museum: Moon-gazing by Yoshitoshi; from The
Tale of Genji)
The Morning-Glory,
fragile and vulnerable:
brevity itself ; evanescent as the dew.
When it starts to wilt,
it cannot turn to the sun.
Why seek more sorrows?
One cannot live forever.
The world is for engagement;
moon-gazing’s futile.
The white petals fade,
but love will not disappear.
Weeping adds to wistfulness,
but turn your eyes to the earth.
10 Tuesday Oct 2017
Posted in Architecture, Bible, Community, History, Nostalgia, Poetry, Religion, Social Comment, Writing
Tags
aesthetic, Cistercian, Cotswold, Genesis, Great Coxwell, Henry VIII, Joseph, Malachi 3, Matthew 6, Pharoah, Pre-Raphaelite, sestina, The National Trust, William Morris
(Photo: Ballista: Wikipaedia)
Great Coxwell’s Barn
Off Hollow Way stands this vast, vacant barn:
huge receptacle for Cistercian tithes,
garnered from tenant farmers – a dry store,
where the granger checked accounts; did not trust
his hired servants. Here Cotswold riches
were protected from thieves and from decay.
Christ had warned disciples about decay
and storing up of surplus in a barn.
Christians were always meant to share riches
and not to extract profit from fat tithes.
The parable’s ‘fool’ was he whose whole trust
was in possessions. He had wrath in store.
Henry VIII would plunder a marked store
and most abbeys were subject to decay.
Monastic wealth was held in deep distrust.
Though Morris praised this cathedral-like barn,
Pre-Raphaelites would not restore tithes;
they venerated aesthetic riches.
We coveted colonial riches
and viewed the whole world as potential store,
compelling other countries to pay tithes;
forgetting moth and rust would cause decay.
What were the treasures we stored in our barn?
We’ll reap what we sowed: we abused faith, trust.
Joseph, in whom Pharoah had put his trust,
managed underground silos of riches
and, when his brothers came – not to a barn-
but to the pits where corn was kept in store,
did they recall they’d left him to decay
in such a space? (He who asked no tithes.)
This massive hulk, once packed with peasant tithes,
now supported by The National Trust,
mouldered with neglect; died of decay,
until ‘heritage’ was seen as riches.
What are the values we would like to store?
Should we maintain the past? Convert the barn?
Some build barns with their family riches,
but tithes benefited community,
as long as mutual trust did not decay.
08 Sunday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Tags
(Metropolitan Museum Art http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/55.94.1.2;
Momoyama period. Tale of Genji)
…difficult to leave –
the cherry blossoms in bud
and also the mists
from the mountains, in evening.
She had misgivings,
but put on her floral robes
for the city move.
She thought of her dead sister.
Kaoru offered his service.
She was so distressed.
Poignancy of rose plum scent
tinctured memories.
She gifted her combs to nuns
and the carriages arrived.
07 Saturday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Tags
(Image: Brooklyn Museum)
Her anger enhanced
the strong attraction he felt,
but her frank consent
was what he was awaiting.
He had spent a long
time feigning indifference.
Now he lay down beside her,
restraining himself all night.
They stood on the verandah,
watching the dawn sky.
It was a perfect moment.
The city beckoned.
He withdrew silently; his
scent impregnated her robes.
24 Sunday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
(Image: Wikimedia Commons)
It is quite futile
to torment oneself over
the inconstancy
of the opposite sex, she
declared, with a sigh.
The cockerel crowed early
and she had not slept,
but she trespassed on his dreams.
He left the woman’s chamber
on the first pretext.
Now he was back home,
there was no comparison-
just as sprigs of plum blossom
differ greatly from cherry.
17 Sunday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Writing
Tags
(Smithsonian’s Museum of Asian Art)
To ichikotsu
mode, the instrument was tuned.
Third Princess tried hard
to blend with the others.
Willow-like, she stood,
her hair like trailing leaves.
But Murasaki’s
hair was a cascade in spate.
Some instruments move the gods
and demons also.
The envoi, in minor mode,
marked a subtle shift
in the harmonious play.
Discord crept in stealthily.
16 Saturday Sep 2017
(Tosa Mitsuoki : Court Life)
The elder daughter,
like delicate plum blossom,
was understated
as Spring dawns. She would never
be described as a scandal.
15 Friday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Tags
(Scroll image:Museum Fine Arts, Boston_ Wm Sturgis Bigelow Collection)
Back in the city,
the salt burners’ pungent whiff
lingered on his clothes.
Before any discordance,
he hoped to return.
Would the koto stay in tune?
He wept to leave her,
as he’d wept on arrival.
When Murasaki was told,
about the lady,
she shrugged porcelain shoulders.
He took the reproof,
so gently given, yet wrote
two further love messages.
