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Oct 2010 · 1.7k
Lao Tzu wants to go
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Old Teacher
Lao Tzu wants to go;
he has had enough and he wants to go
to the mountains and to solitude
but they will not let him go

he arrives at the gates
and the gatekeeper says:
“Old Teacher,
you cannot go;
write all you know
then you can go”


“If I write,”
says Lao Tzu,
“you will make a text of it
though the description is never the thing”


and the gatekeeper says again :
“Old Teacher,
you cannot go;
write all you know
then you can go”



and Lao Tzu writes
so he can go;
and we have all these texts in the world
and cling on to words, words, words
thinking the description is the thing
Oct 2010 · 1.0k
Angulimala stops
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Angulimala chases the monk.
Angulimala collects thumbs
one from each victim;
he will collect a 1000
and this monk’s thumb will be the last


but though he chases the monk
and the monk but walks
the monk seems to elude him;
and so Angulimala shouts:
“Stop, monk!”

and the monk walks still
but his voice comes clear:
“I have stopped.
You stop too, Angulimala.”


“You have not stopped, monk;
you continue walking.
Monks do not lie –
tell me,
how have you stopped?”



“I have stopped thought;
I have stopped all violence
and hate and harm to all creatures;
I have stopped all mental-formation –
so do you stop too,
Angulimala.”



And Angulimala stops;
and he is ordained as a monk himself
even there in the wilderness
by the Buddha
Oct 2010 · 1.1k
Bodhidharma
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Bodhidharma
comes from India
and he is in the court
of Emperor Wu
who throws a question at Bodhidharma

"I have constructed
places of worship;
I have served monks
and I have loved the faith:
what is my merit?
What is my reward?"


*"Nothing.
There is nothing for you
Deeds done with a motive
for pleasures or recognition
with intention
here or hereafter
they have no power in the face of truth"
Oct 2010 · 420
zen: a very short history
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
dhyana went to China
from China
Ch'an
went to Japan
and Japan gave the world Zen
dhyana is Sanskrit for meditation; Ch'an is the Chinese form of the word...
Oct 2010 · 678
birth of zen
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the Buddha sits
with a flower in hand
and the disciples are gathered;
and there is no word
there is no symbol
there is no utterance

Mahakasyapa smiles;
It is understood;
there is seeing
beyond words, beyond text
Oct 2010 · 490
the fifth man, a zen tale
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
five fishermen
have finished
and they pack their catch
but seem to have lost something

for when the leader
lines up all five men
he can only count four
and so does each man
counting the others in a line

“Oh, no!
One in our team is lost!”
they moan
and though
they search high and low
search in the sky and in rabbit holes
search the oceans and in countries far and wide
the fifth man is not found

then comes a child
and offers to find the fifth man
and the child lines them up
and counts clearly to five
and the five men celebrate
the wisdom of the child

and thus it is, Punsara,
that we seek wisdom and truth
when it is always there
and there is nothing to be discovered
Oct 2010 · 749
the student, a zen tale
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the student
walks over the hills
and through woods
into secluded groves
and finally in the forests
he finds the Master

The Master has no books; he carries no signs or paraphernalia of an organization or structure on him. The Master moves lightly; he is dressed in dull clothes and he carries nothing. The Master seems to have no followers; no one to attend to him or to announce him.

the student pursues the Master
and the Master walks before;
and no matter how fast
the student walks or runs
the Old Master seems always ahead

they come to a surging river
and the Master walks across
and the student follows
and at last the currents seem
to slow the Old Master
and the student catches up
and standing in the water
he shouts:
“I am here, Master!
I have come over
hills and mountains
and I have crossed forests
and wastelands
seeking you, Master.
Please teach me.”

And the Master turns around in the surging river, steady and strong. The student looks at the Master’s face; this is a plain man. He does not look like a Master; he has no look of a prophet or one who could save another. There are no signs of revelation in his manner. There is no special-ness in his visage or in his eyes. He could be the butcher at the local market. And the Master seizes the student by the head and pushes him into the water.



the student struggles;
the student's arms are above the water
and the arms are like wings of struggling birds
and the Master pulls the student out of the water
and the Old Master says:
“What did you feel as
you struggled in the water?”

“I felt,” gasps the student,
“I felt desperate for air
for I knew everything depended on it.”

“Ah,” says the Master,
“when you feel likewise
about truth
that this is the only thing that matters -
then you may come back.
Until then, don't waste my time -
now, go!”
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
they could you know
put my face on currencies of the world;
I mean it’s so simple an idea and ingenious
and so original, I’d think -
though you may beg to differ
or disagree most violently
depending on your humor
but still
I wonder no one or nation has thought of it
this simple act of having my visage
on the national currency

It’d lighten up things you know
and people all over the world
might have a lively conversation point
as when they see my Alfred E. Neuman image
and they’d say to one another:
Who’s this ****** idiot?
Or someone else might say:
Anybody knows this clown?
And then they’ll really have lots to talk about
as they wait for their planes to fly again
anytime after nature decides
to send smoke signals in the skies

So really
I don’t understand what these nations
of the world are waiting for,
do you?
OK, I mean they might have inhibitions
like copyright and privacy issues
(like how’d you put a living man’s
face on a national currency?
but really, if they want to put
my face up on world currencies
that are legal tender and linked to real sovereign
states recognized by the United Nations
(banana republics need not apply)
maybe this poem will resolve the issue




Look, my face could go
on the American dollar
and they could say:
Honorary Citizen
Or, OK:
Alien – not the movie, but the person
The British could
put my face on the pound
and have the words below:
Raj for King of the UK
And my own fair and beloved land down under
could put me on a hundred dollar note
with the words:
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Yeah, my destiny in life is to provide mirth;
as long as others are happy, that’s good enough.
Or Australia
could dump British Royalty
from the five-dollar note
and put my face on it instead –
I don’t mind going cheap, you know…


And imagine what good might happen
if they decided to put my face on the Renminbi:
Hey, the Chinese yuan may just appreciate
and what luck that’d be for America –
which brings me to another reason
why the Americans should put me on their notes:
surely it’ll have a downside effect
and their currency value will go down naturally
and give them a competitive edge over the nation behind the Great Wall;
and the Indians, yes, they could ask dear old Gandhi to take a rest
and use my face instead, with the words:
return of the prodigal son
after being a swineherd…



Look, the Euro Currency could have my face
on a Michelangelo David (naked)
(and they could change Euro to Eros?)
and it’d draw a lot of attention away from
the financial woes of Greece and Italy and Spain;
and surely the United Nations could do well
to teach humanity a lesson by negative example
by minting UN money and having my face in its first issue
with words of gold clearly below my visage:
Not the way we want to go…


But look, whatever the countries
of the world may decide
they’d better decide fast
for I might just change my mind
overnight
or even change my face
(you know plastic surgery and the lot)
and quite frankly
they’ll have greater copyright issues after I’m dead
with a garrulous widow whom I’ll leave behind
and my poor desperate progeny
who are still trying to save some money for a deposit
for their first home in the lucky country…
So government leaders and Presidents
and Prime Ministers take note
you don’t need to queue
there’s no bureaucracy
and no forms to fill up
even though you are world governments
I know I’m dealing with –
just do it
but do the have the decency to send me a note….
just so I know…
and you might, if the notes are legal tender
and completely revolting to the citizenry
on seeing my visage and countenance
on their national currencies
(which wouldn’t surprise me
cos I’d just be quiet disgusted
to see their faces on my currency)
you might send me all the money
so long as they are all legal tender…
Oct 2010 · 857
wagtail on its branch
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
wagtail sits
on sparse branch
ample space and clear all round
wonders outward
feels within
content in its place
satisfied with its lot;
a worm today
and some seeds in the evening;
a quite and safe spot at dusk
and rest and sleep when it is time
poem based on Wagtail by Seitei (Shotei) Watanabe 1851-1918; see image at:
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Watanabe_Shotei53.jpg
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
since childhood
and since I first knew
that such unglamorous places as libraries exist
(well, obviously the masses think
places of worship and amusement parks
and cinemas and mosh pits are much more attractive
as these draw crowds like scavengers to carcasses)
ah, but I digress
like a man past fifty
which is what I am -
but, as I was saying,
since I first discovered public libraries
(I couldn’t afford to buy books once
and the books I can afford to buy now
are not worth the dollars
the booksellers say I should part with)
ah, but again I digress…

and as I was saying,
all my reading since innocent childhood
has been of borrowed books
from public libraries
which I read and appreciate
but in which I dare not write comments;
I dare not scribble
in the books
for I am worried about fines
and being labeled ‘delinquent borrower’
and losing my reputation
as being an eminent citizen;
and so I do not write comments
but I have to say something
as you can well understand
to express my disagreement or approbation;
but I cannot write my comments beside the text
or at the end of the short story
or at the end of the poem
or in the margins of utterly un-understandable Einstein
and so with no other way
and my frustrations building
and determining through reason
I should not allow my pent-up emotions
to explode into expletives and ravings
and such implosions and explosions
to ***** up my precious emotional and aesthetic life
I decided
since childhood
when I first started reading -
I decided, and
what else could I do?
to explode into expletives and ravings
and such implosions and explosions
and so
unable to write comments
on borrowed material
on public property
I shouted at books
(and still do)
and uttered expletives
(and continue to do so)
or went done on my knees before books
and made sweet moans, something akin
to ****** ecstasy
before, say, a poem of Keats
or shouted and hollered with joy
at a volume of Leaves of Grass
or screamed with disapproval at stories
turned out with worn out plots
and predictable turn of events
where every man had his maiden
and lived happily for ever
well-fed and well-sexed and fatter and happily ever after;
and I made faces at writing
that were just clichés
and poems that waxed lyrical
and I scowled before un-creative pieces
that waffled with thin sentiments
and moans and sighs of love
or of poetic philosophical bombast
and so my reading career,
since childhood -
O most cultured gentlemen and most elegant ladies,
my reading career has been
dogged with explosions of expletives before books I read
or books I refused to read
and also of course with ecstatic cries before
well-written and well-thought out prose or poetry
but, tragically, unable to write on spines or margins
or between lines on borrowed books
this became
a habit so deeply ingrained
I cannot tear myself off from it
and so
you understand why
even in this age of the internet and cyberspace
I find it excruciating to punch in comments
because this borrowed-books mindset
is fixed and ******* so firm in me;
but you can imagine I have
knelt before your poems and blogs
in near ******-ecstasy
or more unkindly
I have uttered expletives
and shouted obscenities at your blogs and posts
and my family have run in to my study
happily thinking I was going insane
and they could finally confine
me in a Hospital for the Insane
but I am ready
and I just grin with a stolen book of Shakespeare
which I keep near for such occasions
and I say to my precious wife:
Oh, I’m just practicing to direct
a modern production of Shakespeare’s plays
sometime in the future, soon
and disappointed,
the family curses and utters profanities

but I digress -
so back to the subject at hand;
and gentle reader,
perhaps we are both one of a kind
and you too suffer from this
borrowed-books mindset
and you give my poems and blogs
and my online posts
the same treatment I give yours…
well, we understand each other
and we naturally utter obscenities
or kneel with pleasure
but leave no comments or scribble
because the shame of public library censure
has too strong a hold on us…
but what is important is,
we understand each other
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
I’ll go to this restaurant
cos today I’m eating low-fat
and healthy;
I want to glow and eat safe
and be on a diet
and take some weight off my body
and so trim some fat off the burden on
the National Health Plan;
so I’ll go to a healthy restaurant today
they serve fresh and they spell out
fat contents
for each item
so I can choose carefully
and conscientiously;
and the menu board tells me which sandwiches
have low fat
and which burgers offer health
and which meat burgers are approved
by the Heart Foundation;
and so I’ll eat healthy today
and so here I am
so can
I have one of your low-fat burgers, please…?
Yum, that’s going to be really healthy…
Yes……with double cheese…yes, make it double meat…
And can I have plenty of sauce
and add that creamy sauce special too, please….?
more of that sauce please….more….more…
…more…continue till I tell you to stop…
….thanks….and
is it too late to add bacon and sausage?
Yes…thanks….yum…that’s really healthy
And yeah, why not? – three cookies
and a large cup of the post-mix syrup…
Yum…that’s healthy and good…Thanks.
That’s yummy…I feel good…
Also could you pack a takeaway
of the same stuff
for me dinner, please?
Oct 2010 · 1.0k
how odd it is
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
it’s funny how
Mr Bean isn’t
known for eating beans
and James Bond
has nothing to do with borrowed money
and interest payments;
Stephen Crane didn’t really
have cranes for relatives
nor was he in the building industry;
and hey, John Carpenter
made movies
and not shelves or kitchen cabinets;
and Carol
doesn’t really sing carols
and has the name all year round
and not just during Christmas;
and me, Raj, it’s odd I’m not a king
Oct 2010 · 686
laugh to cry
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
I don’t love to cry
(do you?)
but when I laugh
it seems I laugh to cry
because I laugh so much
and so long
so unrestrained
my laugh takes me to cry;
so though I don’t love to cry
I just laugh that leads to cry
but it is happy cry, ha-ha cry
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the evening sunlight falls on the lily-pilly
and the green leaves come ablaze
and the birds fly over in the sky
and the clouds spend their short lives
forming shapes and playing games:
it is all here before me
and I observe
and I am here too;
and there is no dogma or belief
or any book to live one's life by
one is free of all conditioning
and one observes the world as it is
Oct 2010 · 517
in the image of my makers
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
when I was little
and learning
mostly being conditioned
and being shaped
in the image of my makers
I was in awe;
and when I dropped all conditioning
and all authority
now I know
one is equal to anyone
and there is no being
but acts according to its capacity:
there is not one more than another
Oct 2010 · 808
I’ve stopped writing
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
I’ve stopped writing
serious verse
cos every time I try
it only gets worse


I’ve stopped writing
on dignified subjects
and such proper themes
for every time I try
I roll down laughing
and the Public Library staff
lead me out by my ears


I’ve stopped pontificating
on divine matters
and such holy subjects
as mentioning God
and Angels, and Heaven and Hell
cos every time I try
we have such propagandists
quoting scriptures
and holding up revelations,
all these drugged believers
abusing reason and religion
after they’ve finished
with the children


and I do not discourse
on noble subjects
and themes befitting heroes
and great nations
for every time I try
the language slips to f-starters
and the idiom of the slums and gutters
and the curses of the homeless



so I sing about
what pleases me
and those who are easy
read if they will
cos they know
it doesn’t matter if they do or don’t ;
for the sun will still shine
the next day
and they’ll find better poems
in each sun ray
that pierces their skin
and wakes them up to life
Oct 2010 · 523
one must not regret
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
one must not regret
the days gone by
for though
all the years past
may appear
placed so full in one’s open palms
rolled in a ball
of hard dirt, pressures and carbon
yet one may find it
seeing within
precious and radiant
as the earth’s diamonds
in all their uniqueness
a companion piece to my earlier poem: 'the day has carried one'
Oct 2010 · 1.6k
who, me? tipsy?
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
He he ha ah, ah ah –
no, no, no – no I’m not tipsy…
Who says so ? I can drink and
still walk a straight mile
Yeah, I’m delirious, am I?
I’m delirious that’s
because you’re funny, silly
cos you’ve got three skunks
where your mouth should be
and your nose is a dead tree….
Ha ha he he
hey, anyone reasonable can tell I’m not tipsy;
really
I can drink till grandma comes back
from Heaven and still stay calm and steady
and she screamed the other day:
‘Hey, sonny boy…when you drink
airmail some of the spirit up here to me…
It gets too sane up here in Heaven.’
And what’s that you say?
You too think I’m tipsy? Hee, hee, hah ah **…
What’s the matter
You people never seen anyone happy?
Tipsy?...no way, man….I’m just me, yeah
happy and easy-going
I swear the last time I drank was at my wedding
Which was when?
Bet my wife’ll remember the date and year…and place…
and if it happened at all..
and I’m laughing, it seems, oddly
cos you’ve got a donkey head
and your wife looks like a monkey on heat
He he ha ah, ah ah –
no, no, no – no I’m not tipsy
I swear the last time I drank was
when your grandma gave birth to
what was it, her twentieth baby?
Says who, ah? I can drink and
still walk a straight mile
and look at you, you’re looking
like a pink pig with its posterior
all barbecued on a dinner plate
ready for the fork and pepper and sauce;
and hey, I swear the last time I drank was
when you drowned
in the swimming pool;
it was our office function
and you drowned in the hotel pool
and you were struggling and you said:
‘****! ****! Help me!’
and you drowned and died….
I really hate talking to drowning ghosts…
Booo…BOOOOOO….
He he ha ah, ah ah –
No, no, no – no I’m not tipsy
who says so ? I can drink and
still walk a straight mile
Say, can you call me a taxi
and spare, say, a fifty?
Oct 2010 · 444
the day has carried one
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the day has carried one
and also the tight
accumulation of nights
and years gone by
have rolled one to this end;
and one faces one’s night
happy, or exhausted, or disillusioned;
as one’s mind-waves in time have
swept one across the ocean of being…
may each find rest
in seeing one’s own strength and calm
Oct 2010 · 839
toy master
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
ah, sweet little children
and their loving parents
all rolling merrily
into the fair
from happy homes
near and far

come, see my toys
my colorful toys
and dolls made
in various countries
for all good little children
of our bright world

there are toy soldiers
and there are ballerinas;
there are ducks
and pigeons
and this little pig goes:
Oink! Oink! Oink!
and this donkey replies:
Hee-haw! Hee-haw!

see this train
with its green lights;
and you’ll all
love this dancing girl
who comes alive
with just three turns
of the silver key

and with a flick of the switch
this joyous fat grandpa
laughs and raises his hands in glee;
and you can -
dearest children
and most generous parents -
make me joyous too
if you just buy a toy
and drop the coins
in my toy bank
just before you

ah, sweet little children
and their loving parents
all rolling merrily
into the fair
from happy homes
near and far

come, see my toys
my colorful toys
and dolls made
in various countries
for all good little children
of our bright world
Oct 2010 · 1.8k
the village flower girl
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
I bring you flowers
dear Sirs and Ladies;
flowers of softness
for most gentle souls
and flowers in full bloom
for most radiant beings



here I bring flowers
that I plucked just now
and that, exquisite ones,
dignified Sirs and gentle Ladies –
most delicate flowers I have
that are red and blue and green
and of many hues and all colors
that the hills and the air and the clouds
have coaxed and brought to our earth


I have flowers
and that most beautiful
that I have brought from
the fields and valleys
with the scents of the angels
and aroma that come
from the rolling hills


O most
dignified Sirs and gentle Ladies –
I have brought you these flowers
that grow in abundance in our hills
O will you not pick what
delights your hearts
from my ample baskets
and happily fill my purse in return?


I bring you flowers
dear Sirs and Ladies;
flowers of softness
for most gentle souls
and flowers in full bloom
for most radiant beings
the village flower girl sings to sell you some flowers
Oct 2010 · 9.5k
dragonfly on bamboo tip
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the dragonfly is on the tip
still,
as is the air and so the bamboo;
and one observes
what is before one
not forming an image or opinion
or an appreciation
but one observes
what is before one
the dragonfly and the tip of the bamboo
and the air
and not even with names
and there is but that
observing and stillness of the mind
Oct 2010 · 1.7k
in bed
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
you might get a chill in bed
if you leave the windows open
in cold nights
and push away the quilt or blanket
all through sleep;
you can get comfort and peace
for a while at least
digging into bed
and covering yourself in
like an ostrich with its head in the sand;
you can get sick in bed
or you get, over time,
a bad back
in a bad bed;
or you get *** in bed
and or get lots of love;
you get coffee in bed,
or breakfast;
but you can also get
thrown out of bed;
or if you’re convincing enough
you can pretend to be sick
and they’ll even bring dinner to you in bed;
and you can have dreams and nightmares
and so travel even while in bed
and live every unknown layer in your mind;
you could, let’s face it, die in bed;
or if still alive
you can get wet dreams
and so get wet;
you can get sweet words whispered
or words uttered that split the bed;
you can spend time in bed
you can make plans in bed
and create empires or just build castles in bed
though there’s no sand or rocks about;
and you can dream in bed and work out your
inhibitions and delusions;
you can get ideas in bed
inspiration for a poem or the next great novel;
you can get
hugs and kisses
snuggles and pillow talk;
and pillow fights and sleepovers;
or perhaps, if you’re just born,
the comfort of lullabies
what you can get in bed; a poem conceived while in bed
Oct 2010 · 1.3k
red and white peach blossoms
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
I see you
gentle red and white
peach blossoms
delicate like the life
one holds in one’s heart
like the name and beauty in
each one we know
and the transience of oneself
that we see in the quiet of each passing day;
gentle red and white
peach blossoms
I see you
quiet ones
like life in all forms one observes
that blossoms and takes its place in its day
and that resurfaces in the energy of species;
I see you
gentle red and white
peach blossoms
the same radiance runs
through you and me
companion art: Red and White Peach Blossoms (painting) by Tsubaki Chinzan (Japanese, 1801–1854)
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the sky hangs over her
and the waves come near;
and the delicate beauty walks alone
pensive, self-absorbed
and distant by the shore


what is in your mind
pale beauty?
do you sigh over wasted time
and the pain of distance shores?

what is in your heart
fragile beauty?
has your wandering love
not returned and the days are past
and have rolled into months
and yet no news has come?

you walk like a child
and leave footsteps on the soft sands
and the waves eat every trace;
and you disappear
and we cannot find you again;
but we know
just as waves return
you’ll come back the next morning
to walk silently and alone
along the shore
of your quiet pains
companion painting:  'Beauty by the Shore' (painting) by Kubo Shunman (Japanese, 1757–1820)
Oct 2010 · 717
fullness
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
why do you sing
though no one’s about?
why do you chirp
your merry songs
even on your own?

it’s in my nature,
said the sparrow,
to sing when it’s time;
I just chirp when
it’s right


why do you bloom
though there are no eyes
to behold?
why do you come to being
though there’s never
a chance of being seen?


it’s the way of life,
says the flower,
as it flows in me;
I just come to fullness
when it’s right
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
When I was a little boy, say when I was six, my dad calls to me and he says: Come, boy – let’s sit in our courtyard; let’s sit below the stars and I’ll tell you a story. It’s been told long in our village, and passed on from wise fathers to growing sons.

Long ago, goes the story
Farmer Somu wanted
his daughter Meena to marry
the Strongest in the world
and so he set out on a journey
with his daughter
to seek the World’s Strongest One

And what were they going to do, little boy? says my father to me. They are going to look for the Strongest One, I say; and my father says: Ah, you clever son of a clever man.

And when they walked
past the rice fields
they saw farmers
wiping their brows
and they said:
‘My, how strong the sun shines!’

‘Aha,’ said Somu, ‘I think
I’ve found the Strongest One.
Come, Meena,’ he said,
‘let’s talk to the Sun.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu asked the Sun?
And I say to my father: Oh Sun, Will you marry my daughter? And my father says, excitedly: Exactly! Exactly! Oh , you brilliant son of a brilliant man.

‘Oh Sun,
will you marry
my daughter
for she is the Prettiest
and you are the Strongest?’

‘But,’ said the Sun,
‘the cloud is stronger than I
for have you not noticed
how often the cloud
blocks me out
and I can’t do a thing
until he decides to move?’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu replied to the Sun?
Oh, you weakling Sun – I’m not even talking to you! comes my quick reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Weakling Sun
stand out of my way
and Oh you most powerful cloud –
will you marry my daughter
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest?’

And the Cloud replied:
‘But ah, I am not the Strongest
for the wind just blows me away!’

And what do you think, my clever boy, what do you think Somu did next? And I answer my dad: Well, dad - Farmer Somu drags his daughter Meena to the Wind. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘O Wind
you should marry
Meena who is Prettiest
in the world
as you are the Strongest.’

But the Wind replied:
‘Ah, you don’t know how Strong
the mountain is
for he blocks my way
and he breaks me down.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think was Somu’s reply to the Wind?
Oh, you useless Wind – I’m ashamed I even considered you! I reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Oh, you useless Wind
– I’m ashamed
I even considered you!’
said Farmer Somu
and he dragged his daughter along
to meet the mountain
and he said to the mountain:
‘Most Honored Mountain
I have heard of your strength
and so I have brought you Meena
who is the Prettiest.’

But the Mounatin replied:
‘Oh Sir, I am not deserving
of such a rare beauty
for the rat gnaws holes in my sides
and so is Stronger than I.’

And what do you think, dear son, says my father to me – what do you think Somu does next? And I reply quite impatiently: Somu takes his daughter to the rat? Exactly! Exactly! shouts my dad. Exactly, you brainy son of a brainy man!

And the Rat told Somu:
‘Alas, Sir
though your daughter
is most desirable
I cannot marry her
for the hyena is
far stronger than me
for he has eaten many of my family!’

And so they walk to the hyena, says my father to me. And what do you think Somu tells the hyena? And I reply: Oh hyena – marry my daughter for she is Prettiest and you are Strongest! And my father says: Oh you are right, boy! You are right – Oh you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘Sir Hyena
Most Revered Sir Hyena
do marry Meena
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest!’

And Sir hyena replied:
‘Ok. I ask for no dowry
just leave her with me
with no ceremony.’

And what do you think , asks my father, Somu did? And I reply: He left Meena with the hyena. And my father shouts excitedly: Oh, how right you are! How right you are! You clever child of a clever man.





And no sooner had Somu left
the hyena took Meena
to his cave
and he ate her all
skin and bone…
Ah what a tragic end;
what a horrid end…

And dear son, says my father to me, what is the moral of this story? Many, I say. But two are: Use your wits and stay alive. Never allow yourself to be dragged around. And my father jumps up and he is excited: Oh how right! How right! You brilliant son of a brilliant father!
And he turns to my mother who has joined us at the courtyard and he says:
See how clever our son is – he knows all the answers! Such a brilliant son of a brilliant father!

And my mother’s retort is swift: It’s not that he’s brilliant or you either. You’ve told him this story a hundred times, you silly man! And it’s always the same words! And I would have kicked my father if I were Meena!
a folk-tale I heard when I was a child
Oct 2010 · 668
song of the nomad couple
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
see the stars tonight
and the moon,
my love;
tonight they do not shine
for Emperor or General -
tonight they glow for you,
for me;
and the gentle breeze
that blows
and the crickets that converse
tonight they are
not here for themselves
tonight they rejoice for you
for me,
my love



they are for you
for me, dearest love;
tonight they are here
to bless the night
for you and for me


for you and me
are all these
here in our patch
of open land
below the hills
and the skies;
so let us go into
our tent
of the skin of wild animals and rope
and filled with all simple things;
and let us bring out the rice wine
and let us drink and keep warm
in each other’s love
for these things of nature
are come to grace the night
for you, for me,
dearest love
Oct 2010 · 975
Come home, sweetheart
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today;
though you may lie
in a corner of the streets
and call strangers family;
or live in the country
or go moving about
from place to place
- you still have a home
and mom and dad
and your sister and brother
waiting to see you


we woke up one day
and found your room empty;
you were the quiet sort always
never told anybody
and just left us
and threw yourself
into the wide continent
perhaps moving from city to city


Come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today;
a festive call home
from a public phone
to speak with mama
and dad is not enough
and a hello to your teary siblings
does not bring a smile:
we want to hug that lovely girl
we all know –
Oh come home, sweetheart


Mum keeps your room
tidy like the day you left it;
mum tells everyone you’ll
be back someday;
it’s like she carries you in her
a second time:
O come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

there’s rain and hail
and the wind blows wild;
what are you doing
flitting idly by?

run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

duck for cover
excuse the expression;
hide under a tree
or go sleep under the leaves;
have you no sense
of impeding danger?

Oh run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

the wind blows hard
and you’re being blown around;
what happens if
a tiny hail stone
swings a hole in a wing?
or worse,
oh fragile beauty,
I don’t want to be here to see
a hail stone the size of a child’s fist
land smack on your gentle head

so run home
run home
you silly
playful butterfly;
run run run
fly fly fly
Oct 2010 · 4.0k
a laugh song
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
laugh a day
laugh it now
laugh as loud
as you want;
it shakes up your body
lets good things flow
through your veins;
don’t think about it
just laugh a minute
or laugh a day
laugh long as laugh-time



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha



not the laugh of envy
or derision
or being superior
oh no, never that sort of laugh
but simple laugh
as laugh as laugh


not the laugh of victory
or of I-know-better
or see-I-told-you-so
but just the laugh of being
the laugh of life
the laugh of love
as natural as laugh



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha



I brought this laugh
for no rhyme or reason
I heard it in the oceans
and in the trees
and I got it free
so really there’s no fee
but I’d like you to pass
it back to me and I’ll
throw it back to you
like playing ball;
or you can pass the ball
to anyone anyway you like
this laugh as bright
as sun rays on ocean waves



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha
so, did you ha ha?
Oct 2010 · 384
there are flowers and birds
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
there are flowers and birds
and the observer
the one who passes by and stops to see
to observe
the flowers and the birds
and in that seeing
there is just the moment
that observation
just the seeing
one moment in stillness
of flowers, birds and observer
though all the while there is life and change
Oct 2010 · 530
you say you love the earth
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
you say you love
the earth
love the ocean
but you don’t really do
otherwise you wouldn’t
have ****** poison in there;
and even when you protest
you do, you do
you just love it for your own
and so I’m taking it away from you


you say you love
the skies
but do you really do?
why then do you spew
deadly gases into the air
and blow holes in the sky?
and even when you protest
love, love for the sky
you just love for your own
and so I’m taking it away from you


you say you love
the birds and the trees
and the creatures and the earth
but you don’t act as you do
for you’ve dragged them all
to utility and objects of desire
and even when you plead
you love them, love them all
you just love it for commerce
and your appetite
you love it for you
so I’m taking them away from you


and so I’m taking them all away
from you and you and you
and you can have yourself to yourself
for that’s all you really love
you love you
and you get what you truly love;
so you can sit there
in a cold corner of desolate space
with yourself for you
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Come, we have a story, said the Old Man. Come, sit and I shall tell you all a little tale of a donkey, a boy and his father…and of strangers too…and many a busybody…
And the children sat round the campfire and the Old Man began his tale…*



One day
(and this is many, many
uncountable days ago)
Father called Son
and he said:
‘Son
you are grown now
into a fine young lad
and you must learn
how to buy and sell
and make a profit


‘So, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
in our shed’



2

And so Son and Dad
set out for the town market
across the sandy and rocky miles
and some way off
Dad grew tired and he said:


‘Ah, Son
this walk tires me and so
I shall ride the donkey
while you walk by the side;
so, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
that I shall ride’







3

‘**, **!
What do we have here?’
came a voice
as the Dad sat riding the donkey
while the Son walked by the side
‘A cruel father you are,’
said the Family Standards Officer
‘Get down, you grown man
and let the child ride!’

And the Father was ashamed
and so he let the Son ride the donkey
and he walked beside

And the Family Standards Officer
was extremely pleased
and he filled up his forms
and he bade the Father and Son safe journey:
‘Ah, this is another
success story
of the Family Welfare Dept
where conscience has won the day
and the Son rides the donkey
and the Father walks beside’








4
And the Father and Son are gone but a mile, a mile - when another interruption came their way, heading straight their way….


‘What do we have here?’
came a scream
and the Mandarin of the
State Morals Education
stopped the trio
and the Mandarin glared disapprovingly
at the boy riding the donkey and he said:
‘Where is your filial piety?
Know you not the son must do his duty
by the father?
Get off the donkey -
you young donkey!
and allow your father to ride
while you walk with reverence
and duty beside!’


And so now we have the
Father on the donkey
and the Son walking beside
all three slowly on and on
Father and son
to the market to see
what silver coins
they might get
for this old donkey
that they have taken turns to ride




5

Then comes an old woman
and she mutters to herself as she passes by:
‘Ah, what’s come of life
that a father should ride and
allow the young to walk.’

And so the Father bids his Son
be a pillion rider with him on the donkey
and so they ride
merrily, merrily
on to the market
to see
what silver coins they can get
for this old donkey
that they both ride





5

But no sooner have they covered
but a mile, just a mile
with the respectable Father
and the filial Son
(both on the hapless donkey)
when a voice thunders out from the bush
and the Animal Rights Activist stands out
and he screams:
‘Oh, you cruel people
that you should ride a helpless donkey !
Shame on you!
Much better that you both
carried the creature!’


And of course
the Son and Father
so reasonable and
always with an open mind
they jump off the donkey
and they carry
the donkey all the way
all the way
just four more miles
just four more miles
and they soon come into the market
carrying the donkey
and shouting:
‘Donkey for sale!
Donkey for sale!’




6

And the buyers
at the markets
they see
this Father and Son
carrying the donkey
and screaming:
‘Donkey f or sale!
Donkey for sale!’


And the buyers they say:
‘But it appears, Sirs,
there are
three donkeys for sale
three donkeys for sale!
In declaring
“Donkey for Sale!”
when there are clearly three
are you offering three
for the price of one?’
an Old Tale re-told - because we make the same mistakes again and again..
Oct 2010 · 457
they stopped at the stream
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
they stopped at the stream;
one sat down
and one stood close by
and they both cried,
the little children


‘Why do you cry,
little ones?’
asked the rabbit

‘Why do you cry,
pretty angels?’
asked the birds

‘Why do you cry,
dearest loves?’
asked the stream


‘A world is lost,
oh birds in the trees,’
said the little boy.
‘I saw beauty taken away.’


‘A time is gone,
oh rabbit and stream,’
said the little girl
‘We saw beings wiped away.’
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
1
stand up, children
stand up and wipe those tears;
smile and laugh
in your love
of the fields and the stars


smile and laugh
little darlings;
smile and laugh
in your love
of the birds and trees
and the streams
and the creatures
of the earth

smile and laugh
in your love of the clouds
and the sunshine and the berries
and the flowers
and the butterflies;
smile little children
with that love
that is radiant in your hearts


stand up, children
stand up and wipe those tears;
smile and laugh
in your love
of the fields and the stars



2

stand up, children
stand up and wipe those tears;
smile and laugh
in your love
of the fields and the stars


though all things may pass
and all things may change
and iron hands
and powder powers
bring chaos and bareness;
and these things may hurt
even those light hearts of yours -
still, delicate angels,
there is love
in your darling hearts


so bring them your love
of the sunshine
and your love of the trees;
bring them your love
of the land
and your love of life

bring them your love
of the skies
and your love of the bees;
bring them your love
of the streams, air and earth

for the love that you have
that is oneness
that love never passes;
that is the love
that abides always
in all change and passing


stand up, children
stand up and wipe those tears;
smile and laugh
in your love
of nature and the stars
Nature's song for the children in my poem: They stopped at the stream
Oct 2010 · 933
Moon Rising Over the Sea
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
there is silence;
not a thought or motion
all activity whispered and soothed into oblivion
sinking in the moment;
not the observed or the observer
or the companions
or outside and inside;
all diversity and division none
but just the moment,
this instant when the moon rises over the sea
and all things and names and being
and all manifest and unmanifest
unawares rolled in one
related to Caspar David Friedrich's painting Moon Rising Over the Sea
(1822)
Oct 2010 · 806
what a poet must do and be
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
a poet, it is said,
must be pure and holy;
a poet, it is decreed,
must bring truth and clarity;
a poet, it is declared,
must use words good and sublime;
a poet, it is said
must choose subjects
that are sanctioned and chaste
like the moon and stars
and butterflies and innocent creatures of the fields;
and fill pages with
I-love-you-you-love-me oratory
and volumes of
today I feel this way
yesterday I had five coffees;
further, it is inscribed in
the tombs and mausoleums and
encrypted in arcane ancient texts
and revealed scriptures,
that the poet shall speak
wholly of holy matters and things
and choose for imagery
clouds, angels and music
and such radiant things



well, you can say what you like
you can believe what you fancy –
if I write, I’ll do and speak
just ****** well
as I please…
thank you very much…
Oct 2010 · 728
women picking edible plants
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
a little more haste, neighbor,
as we pick edible plants
on these slopes of the mountains;
the air is fresh and the delicate plants
abundant enough
though one has to humble oneself
by leaning down to these rare ones;
we will bring them home
and some we can eat fresh and raw
and most we can stir in our pots
and serve it as a treat with rice and garlic -
but my dearest friend,
what are you doing?
You are looking up at the sky
instead of keeping your eyes
down to the ground….


Ah, I just happened to look up
and I saw the bird fly;
I wondered what freedom that bird has in the air
unlike us who have to keep our heads down
and the strain pulls and tortures the back


Ah, ha…dear friend, you’ve
always been the dreamer;
keep your eyes on the ground
and get what you can
before sunset
for we must hurry;
as you know
bodies must eat;
and you still have to reach
out and bend your back,
I’m afraid;
for the plants that nurture blood, bones and muscle
they take us from one day to the next
companion painting: women picking edible plants by Yun Du-seo (1668–1715, Korea)
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Public swimming pool opening soon.
All welcome.
It’s free and it’s your money
anyway
built for the community
not through philanthropy
but through taxes.
Sometimes we collect so much taxes
we don’t know what to do –
so we throw in a pool
so Council does not drown in the money we collect.
You can’t swim?
So what?
Just jump in – there’s plenty of water to drink.
It’s really free flow of drinks –
drink as much as you can.
**** in the pool while you’re in, if you like.
Do it discretely.
Public swimming pool opening soon.
All welcome.
humor - an attempt to be funny; no offense meant to swimmers, non-swimmers or tax-collectors...
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Hey, elegant cat,
you think you can
rest there sitting so prim and well-brought up
and think I’ll bring you some sparrows I catch
on from the tree-top?
You got to move your ****, brother;
Sparrows don’t fall off trees like ripe fruit
for you to pick from the ground, you know.
Or maybe you don’t know.
And I’m not going to be doing the work
for you, wild cat and friendless as I am.
I live on my own, catch my own sparrows
and eat my own dinner
and lick my lips and I sleep under the shade of the tree
when my tummy’s full
and sure, that’s all I care about
getting my daily meals.
And not even in your wildest dreams, hey well-washed cat,
not even in your wildest dreams
do I have desire to share bird meat and bones with anyone
and especially not with an elegant rich-home cat like you…
Well, you can have the feathers, if you like.
Now really, how did a nice cat like you get lost?
Is this your day out or what?
Some kind of an expedition day?
You want a sparrow to eat?
Get your fat **** here up the tree
with as much stealth as you can
and catch yourself one!
And you stupid cat from comfy rooms
having sat your **** on soft cushions all your life –
stop meow-meowing with hunger! – you’ll scare the birds away,
you unnatural, unnatural domesticated cat!
You know, you’d be better off using your powers of sight
and finding your way back
from wherever you came from and get back
to mummy’s home asap.
Go stand under some lamp post where they might have a
Cuddly Cat Lost sign
and someone might bring you to your owner for a reward.
No way you going to survive in the open, brother!
companion painting: Myojakdo (cats and sparrows) by Byeon Sangbyeok.
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Hey, he’s dead -
just leave him
and come with me;
I’ll get you another one -
he’ll be warm
and let you rest your head on his broad chest
comfy and nice.
Just dump this one;
he’s been dead long enough
and will not return to give you a hug
bring back some flowers, bread or meat
or to annoy you with unwashed dishes.
Get up and stop this mourning
and trust me
for I’ve got a bow and arrow
and rarely do I miss my mark;
and though my name may rhyme with Stupid
and I may be portrayed in the galleries
as a mere child
trust me
I know more about these matters of the heart
than generations of men and women
who have ever lived on this planet earth
and who have ever loved
and who are all now buried
or fired up into ash;
so come,
sweetheart –
and, in the language of the poets,
I’ll show you fresh green pastures
or an ocean full of fish, if you like;
or, to pursue folk-imagery if you prefer,
let sleeping dogs lie, as they might say –
so let dead men rest in pieces where they are;
you come with me now and I’ll use my arrow
to pin down for you a suitable one –
a man alive, whole and who can return kisses
when you give one;
come with me,
sweetheart – the living don’t call me Cupid for nothing…
and if you don’t come
then you deserve the name that rhymes with mine.
Come, we’ll go catch what you want;
and these days, we can even internet you one.
companion art: Byam Shaw's painting, The Cure
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the wandering fox
spotted the grapes
hanging above its reach
This will quench my thirst,
it told itself
and tried various stratagems
to reach the distant fruit


the fox jumped up;
the fox rolled rocks to below the grapes
and stood on them
and jumped again;
the fox sang songs to the grapes;
the fox threatened the grapes
and even tried positive thinking
and with eyes closed
a good measure of visualization
in which the grapes fell into its open mouth…

But all to no avail…

And at last
the wise fox said:
Ah, who needs these grapes?
They must be sour and turning bad anyway…

And off the fox trotted away
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Owl slept in the tree’s hollow
but the silly Grasshopper
on the branch outside
made incessant noise

‘Kind Sir,’ said Owl,
‘would you stop singing
and allow me to sleep?
I’m nocturnal
and sleep by day
and so I need some quiet now.’

Grasshopper
looked proud
and rubbed its hind femurs
against its fore-wings
and it said:
‘Ah, Sir Owl -
Eminent Naturalists have come
to record me make my most melodious songs
and they kept away, if you must know,
from your uncouth hooting!
So I will continue singing
and you may live in envy if you like.’


‘Oh it is most true,’
said Owl.
‘You sing most wonderfully
and I but screech.
But come in and I have
a potion
that the Goddess of Song
has just given me
that will soften my hooting
and bring your song to perfection.
You already sing like a sensation,
O Highly Sought-After Grasshopper –
you’ll be even more appreciated after….’



And straight Grasshopper
with a magnificent leap
jumped to Owl’s home;
and straight Owl ate the singing insect
and indeed Grasshopper
was even more appreciated after….




And it is whispered in the forests
Owl’s hooting improved
due to a certain potion
Owl had acquired
from the Goddess of Song
Oct 2010 · 996
Shadow of the wolf
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
1
‘My, my,’
said the wolf one day
seeing its long shadow on the ground.
‘How big I am, how powerful I am.
Why, I’ve grown bigger
than any lion or bear.’

And with that
the wolf walked about
with a lot of pride
and arrogance


2
Soon the Wolf met a lion
in the shades below the trees
and the Wolf sauntered very leisurely by

‘My, my,’
said the Lion to the Wolf.
‘You’re looking very calm and confident.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said the Wolf.
‘The reason is clear to see:
since the last time you saw me
I’ve grown bigger and stronger
than the bear, the elephant and even you!’


3
‘Oh, yes,’ said the Lion,
‘indeed you have grown bigger and meatier
and possibly tastier than any!’

And with that the Lion pounced
on the self-confident wolf
and made a meal of its ****
and the wolf was cut down to size
in the mighty Lion’s tummy
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
‘Ah, come in
oh gentle fox,’
said the Lion,
pretending to be sick
and lying visible
and coughing
inside its sunny cave


‘How nice of you,’
continued the lion
‘to come and see me.
You have probably heard
I’ve been quite sick
and what gentle words of healing
you must have come to offer me…
Indeed, oh most kind fox
it’s very nice of you…
But why stand in the sun?
Come in and sit down
with me in my cave
and we shall speak of
most spiritual matters
like Heaven and the afterlife…’


2
‘Ah, but thank you Mr Lion,’
said the fox
keeping a distance.
‘I did indeed hear it said
you were sick and came to visit you
and now that I’ve seen you
and now that you feel my goodwill
I shall go…’


‘But why not come in
just for a while?’
asked the Lion,
with a regal grin


‘Because,’ said the quick fox,
‘I smell a rat and other creatures too.
I see many footprints towards
your cave
but none tracing their steps out…
And it’ll be just the while perhaps
that you’ll need
to ensure what comes in the cave
never goes out.’


And away
the nimble fox ran
to live many years more
and to tell a tale
that has passed on from
the ruthless animal kingdom
to our most blessed humankind
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Come, listen all -
listen to a very gentle fable
Of Donkey, Dog and Man
and the friendship
amongst these three



1
Donkey and Dog are loyal servants;
they’ve served the same master
all their lives

It’s night now and
Donkey and Dog sleep
in the courtyard
while Master
snores in the house

A thief sneaks in
through the gate
and donkey whispers
as gently as he can:
Hey, dog…There’s an intruder;
Why don’t you bark and let master know?


And the old Dog growls as
quietly as he can:
Why don’t you bray aloud
and raise the alarm?


Hey, but you’re the dog
and you’re man’s best friend,
Donkey whispers in the dark



Man’s best friend, eh?
says Dog.
But is man the dog’s best friend?
I’ve served the master for ages
and now that I’m old he neglects me
and is talking about taking another dog.
I bet he’ll have you skinned alive
when you’re dead!
To the dogs with him!
You bray if you like.



2

Oh I’ve never seen
a more ungrateful being,
Donkey says.
Master is the best
and though he treats
us harsh
it’s all for our own good.
But your ingratitude offends me
and for the sake of decency and justice
and for all the values I hold dear
I shall have to do
a watchdog’s duty instead.


And with that
the donkey brays aloud
and the cacophony is heard
in all the village
and the thief runs away as quickly as he can;
and the master comes running out with a huge stick
and seeing the donkey braying madly
with no cause but its own stupidity
the master beats the donkey well and proper
till all his own hands ache
and he goes back to bed


And now Dog and Donkey
lie down again together
in the courtyard
and Dog says to the quiet Donkey:
Looks like you just found out
how it feels to be man’s best friend!
Oct 2010 · 2.6k
Old Man Making Shoes
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Ah, my feet hurt these days
walking on these hills and slopes
and it’s been seven days
since my straw shoes were thinned and with holes
and become tattered and absolutely useless.
I remember I was walking in the fields and
I could feel my feet touch the ground and I said:
Curse you, you silly straw shoes!
Is that how long you last?
Is that how you let me down
when I need you most?
Well, like humans I have known,
and so my straw shoes;
they too tire of their friends and relatives
and they too feel the burden
and inconvenience
of serving an old parent.
But I’ve just thrown old shoes away
as one throws old memories and the past away .
Let me make myself new straw shoes
as I sit below these trees and away from the crowd
and with a little peace
for an old man like me
I can be quiet in this shade
perhaps talk to myself or sing some far-off song
and make myself
straw shoes, new ones
and I’ll walk again with new shoes
as one may drop, discard
and put away all old memories
and walk afresh and anew
with no shadow of the past over one’s head.
Let me make simple straw shoes;
that will suffice, just for the purpose;
nothing fancy, just so to be able to walk comfortably
as I go about my work
on the hills and slopes and the fields…
that is all one needs…
…an old man like me just making his own straw shoes…
companion painting: Old Man Making Shoes by Yun Duseo (Korea, Joseon dynasty, late 17th ~ early 18th century)
Oct 2010 · 3.0k
Willow, radiant willow
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
sing willow, slender willow
leaning willow
that brings a feel of smooth flow
that sways with songs of sweet sadness;
sing willow so gentle in the morning air
so graceful in the wind’s route;
sing willow, dance gentle now
with such ease
for us who have come by to see you
and to feel you breathing
companion painting: willows by Jin Nong (1687-1764)
Oct 2010 · 479
this evening, dearest moon
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
this evening, O gentle moon,
this evening you
preside over calm, dearest moon;
you bring quiet
and sweetness in the cool air;
and the trees rise to kiss you
and the sun sets like a dying soldier
in the arms of his love;
this evening you bring stillness
and contentment
and end of thought and conflict
and you bring
seeing of things as they are
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