Monday, April 14, 2014
How splendid in the morning glows the lily: with what
grace he throws
His supplication to the rose: do roses nod the head, Yasmin?
But when the silver dove descends I find the little flower of
Whose very name that sweetly ends I say when I have said,
The morning light is clear and cold: I dare not in that
A whiter light, a deeper gold, a glory too far shed, Yasmin.
But when the deep red eye of day is level with the lone
And some to Meccah turn to pray, and I toward thy bed,
Or when the wind beneath the moon in drifting like a soul
And harping planets talk love's tune with milky wings
Shower down thy love, O burning bright! For one night or
the other night,
Will come the Gardener in white, and gathered flowers are
-- a ghazel by James Elroy Flecker
The poem as it was set in the Collected Poems of James Elroy Flecker.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
it would seem that Norman Tebbit did not learn anything from his last speed reading course, 3 stories in 40 seconds.. ;-)
somewhat ironically holding grudges is a very Irish thing, there is a reasonable amount of evidence here in North Ireland that we are learning to forget the grudges. This remains seasonal, at this time.