Earnings

A composite, not quite a chimera. (Send it back!)


The other two, slight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life, being made of four, with two alone
Sinks down to death, oppress’d with melancholy;
Until life’s composition be recurred
By those swift messengers return’d from thee,
Who even but now come back again, assured
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
    This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
    I send them back again and straight grow sad.

(Sonnet 45), William Shakespeare


batch of grainy residue

the soaring dust of the mortal realm by Fei Ming ??

Translated By Yilin Wang, Translated from the Chinese

not to speak of timely rain falling wondrously upon ethereal mountains,

nor to dwell on footsteps echoing through hollow illusory valleys,

here’s yet another predictable batch of grainy residue,

still the mortal dust of the vast universe—

beyond the eaves, the lone call of a sparrow.

alas, pages of poetry, please become ashes taking flight.

the empty void is a speck of the heart that cherishes deeply.

the universe is a particle of unbroken dust drifting in the air.