Oz is sitting on a swing under the stars listening to melodies in his head.
Oh, Sweet Alison, dang the twang is good and the voices sweet as angels singing softly in the wee hours of the night, but the lyrics hit too close to home,
Wishing I could sleep.
An auto is a helpful thing;
The way it goes, the way it comes;
It saves me many a dreary mile,
It brings me quickly to the smile
Of those at home, and every day
It adds unto my time for play.
But more than this I love to walk
Beside a friend and talk
Of things that matter not
To anyone else but us
And if we have little to say
Holding hands will quite suffice
For this is the way the world really is
To those who love to walk and talk
Thanks Edgar Guest for many lines and many thoughts, whose rhymes I ought to write myself, but found it simpler to share.
“Time, time, time is on my side, yes it is, …”” is the line, line, line sung by Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones. Of course, it isn’t. No one wins a race against time, time, time.
After the battle, when the bombs quit falling, an American soldier in World War I takes a moment to entertain a little girl with the story of Cinderella. Even Hell has its tender moments, and in the midst of despair, there is hope.
Nous savons comment l’histoire va.
In a far, far away, long, long ago kingdom, Cinderella lived happily with her mother and father until her mother died. When Cinderella’s father remarries a cold, cruel woman who has two daughters, Drizella and Anastasia, Cinderella becomes a servant suffering in her own house.
One day the King announces that there will be a fancy dress ball…
The mist is rising off the lake, ghostly white
The sky is the palest blue, the softest pink,
The mist becomes clouds of lavender floating just beyond my touch
Through the trees, the sun is dawning, the night fades, and it is morn
And I descend the path to the lake, as the birds begin to wake
And I feel a peace within me, knowing the world is still asleep
For the moment this place is mine, and mine alone
If one does not include my crowded thoughts
Those who were close to him called him Paul. French poet Ambroise Paul Toussaint Jules Valéry, (1871-1945) said,” A poem is never finished just abandoned.” I suppose that is true, that we are never really happy with the result. It is only weariness or time that moves on to the next thought. Perhaps I shall return as Robert Frost suggested, perhaps not.
Oz had a glass of wine, which got him thinking about the Oscars, translation, understanding, and Chinese poetry.
Lost in Translation, one of my favorite movies, written and directed by Sofia Coppola. Insert Oscar shout out here for female writer-directors. The 2003 Indie movie stars Bill Murray as an aging actor Bob Harris, who befriends college graduate Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) in a Tokyo hotel. The romantic comedy-drama plays out on many levels while the couple film a Japanese whiskey commercial.
Bring in the Wine, eighth century Chinese poet, Cen Can (aka Cen Shen and Cen Jiuzhou) commiseration about getting old and getting drunk with old friends. The Chinese characters are 將進酒 Jiāng Jìn Jiǔ, which must have been a mouthful if one was already drunk. Kind of like saying, “rubber baby buggy bumpers,” which makes no sense, but it is still fun to say.
You know, we are not so different, Japanese, American, Chinese, then and now… A little whiskey, some wine makes it easier to get along. And the hell with getting lost.
You can check out my translation here.
When it comes to word comparisons, it is inevitable that I come to this ineluctable conclusion, sometimes something is superfluously said.
unable to be resisted or avoided; inescapable.
“the ineluctable facts of history”
certain to happen; unavoidable.
“war was inevitable”
synonyms: unavoidable, inescapable, inexorable, ineluctable;
More: assured, certain, sure, fixed;
fated, destined, predestined, predetermined, unpreventable;
“at this point, war is inevitable”
so frequently experienced or seen that it is completely predictable.
“the inevitable letter from the bank”
a situation that is unavoidable.