FIRE

What stands out as your element?
Do you shine and inspire?
Do you radiate confidence?
If so, you're probably FIRE.

Then you'll show initiative,
Enthusiasm, and strength.
You'll be fearless, blunt, and outgoing,
Encouraging others at length.

You might be impatient at times,
And maybe you like to lead.
Others might find it difficult
To keep up with your speed.

AIR

Or maybe AIR is more your thing,
In which case you will find
A rational objectivity
Brings order to your mind.

Curious about the world,
You'll crave for understanding.
Being allowed to express yourself
Will never be too demanding.

Relationships are important to you,
And so is sociability.
Loving concepts and principles, you'll
Demonstrate mental agility.

WATER

Perhaps WATER defines you more.
Reflection will be the balm
Protecting you from outer chaos
And giving you inner calm.

You'll tend to trust your intuition,
And empathy will guide you.
Your sensitive nature will like the comfort
That secrecy can provide you.

Being involved emotionally
With others is a must.
Your compassionate heart will give you
Advice on whom to trust.

EARTH

And then there's EARTH. If that's you,
Your patience will be key.
Caution makes you always want
To seek a guarantee.

Extremely practical in nature,
Stable and dependable,
You might sometimes go too far
And then become unbendable.

Attuned to much of the physical world
With heightened physical senses,
Your self-discipline and grit
Have fruitful consequences.

AND SO…

What is your dominant element,
Which you should make your friend--
FIRE, AIR, WATER, OR EARTH--
Or are you a marvelous blend?

-by Bob B (2-3-22)

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Frosty the Snowman," by Steve Nelson and Walter Rollins.)

Manchin the no-man
Is as proud as he can be
When he kills a bill that would help fulfill
A plan for you and me.

Manchin the no-man
Thinks that he is on a roll.
But you wonder whom he's beholden to
And to whom he's sold his soul.

There must be something going on
That makes him act this way
And has progressives reeling as
He makes his power play.

Manchin the no-man
Thinks that he is being strong
When he acts as though he's a friend, but no,
He just strings us all along.

Manchin the no-man
Is a man who's out of touch
With what people feel has great appeal.
He says, No, it costs too much.

A bill that helps all families
Should be a worthy cause,
Along with one for voters' rights,
But Manchin shouts out "Pause!"

Manchin the no-man
Sadly glories in his ruse.
As he jerks us all around and shares
His nonsense on Fox News.

Manchin the no-man
Is a person we can't trust.
He'll sit back and gloat as he casts his vote
For a bill to bite the dust.

Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…
Watch as he says NO!
Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…
Manchin has to go.

-by Bob B (12-20-21)

°Joe Manchin, U.S. senator from West Virginia

Some people talk about the power of prayer.
Although there's never a guarantee,
That's their business to pray if they choose.
But, frankly, praying's not for me.

Some people pray for departed souls
And feel that it makes a difference, you see.
If that consoles them, that is fine.
I just let the departed be.

Some people pray for lots of money.
Money's important; I agree.
But I say just go out and earn it.
Therefore, praying's not for me.

Some people pray for those who are sick
And suffering in an infirmary.
I just hope they are getting good care,
For I feel health care workers are key.

Some people feel that praying helps
Their lives by setting their worries free.
I just hope that all works out
For the best, but praying's not for me.

Some people pray to be prettier, stronger,
Wiser, better…but I say, "Gee,
Be content or make things happen.
Let that fill your heart with glee."

Some people have all kinds of reasons
To pray that go from A to Z.
I just cross my fingers and hope.
But praying? No, that's not for me.

-by Bob B (12-21-21)

I woke up and straightaway
I felt the spirit of Christmas Day,
Although the day was cold and gray
On Christmas Day in the morning.

The memories of Christmas past--
Many of which are unsurpassed--
Are memories I hope will last
On Christmas Day in the morning.

No matter what all people believe,
The spirit of giving to which we cleave
Is possible for us all to achieve
On Christmas Day in the morning.

In order to save the human race,
Here's a goal we can all embrace:
Let's make the world a better place
On Christmas Day in the morning.

Spread goodwill and hopes for peace.
May our love and wisdom increase,
And may injustice and anger cease
On Christmas Day in the morning.

On Christmas Day we spread our cheer.
Let's spread it every day of the year.
We can do it if we're sincere
On Christmas Day in the morning.

-by Bob B (12-25-21)

The human attention span, they say,
Is getting shorter every day.
With so many distractions now,
People need a constant "Wow!"

Many get no satisfaction
Unless they are bombarded with action.
Instant gratification's a must;
A lengthy article's a bust.

Who spends hours with MOBY ****?
People prefer an action flick.
A long book now is hard to sell
And is a modern reader's hell.

Work makes students feel constrained
Unless they can be entertained.
Reading selections make us happy
Only if they're short and snappy.

Letter writing? A dying art.
We want our info à la carte.
Concentration only succeeds
If it fulfills immediate needs.

And some will ask for no repentance
If they can't get through this sentence.
Exaggeration? Perhaps, and yet,
There's some truth in it, I bet.

If none of this applies to you,
Then you deserve a loud "Woo-hoo!"
Enjoy some quiet time alone,
And most importantly, turn off your phone!

-by Bob B (1-9-21)

MICHELANGELO: Modern English Translations

Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) is considered by many experts to be the greatest artist and sculptor of all time. These are modern English translations of his poems and epigrams by Michael R. Burch.

SONNET: RAVISHED
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ravished, by all our eyes find fine and fair,
yet starved for virtues pure hearts might confess,
my soul can find no Jacobean stair
that leads to heaven, save earth's loveliness.
The stars above emit such rapturous light
our longing hearts ascend on beams of Love
and seek, indeed, Love at its utmost height.
But where on earth does Love suffice to move
a gentle heart, or ever leave it wise,
save for beauty itself and the starlight in her eyes?

SONNET: TO LUIGI DEL RICCIO, AFTER THE DEATH OF CECCHINO BRACCI
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A pena prima.

I had barely seen the beauty of his eyes
Which unto yours were life itself, and light,
When he closed them fast in death's eternal night
To reopen them on God, in Paradise.

In my tardiness, I wept, too late made wise,
Yet the fault not mine: for death's disgusting ploy
Had robbed me of that deep, unfathomable joy
Which in your loving memory never dies.

Therefore, Luigi, since the task is mine
To make our unique friend smile on, in stone,
Forever brightening what dark earth would dim,
And because the Beloved causes love to shine,

And since the artist cannot work alone,
I must carve you, to tell the world of him!

BEAUTY AND THE ARTIST
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Al cor di zolfo.

A heart aflame; alas, the flesh not so;
Bones brittle wood; the soul without a guide
To curb the will’s inferno; the crude pride
Of restless passions’ pulsing surge and flow;
A witless mind that – halt, lame, weak – must go
Blind through entrapments scattered far and wide; ...
Why wonder then, when one small spark applied
To such an assemblage, renders it aglow?

Add beauteous Art, which, Heaven-Promethean,
Must exceed nature – so divine a power
Belongs to those who strive with every nerve.
Created for such Art, from childhood given
As prey for her Infernos to devour,
I blame the Mistress I was born to serve.

SONNET XVI: LOVE AND ART
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sì come nella penna.

Just as with pen and ink,
there is a high, a low, and an in-between style;
and, as marble yields its images pure and vile
to excite the fancies artificers might think;
even so, my lord, lodged deep within your heart
are mingled pride and mild humility;
but I draw only what I truly see
when I trust my eyes and otherwise stand apart.

Whoever sows the seeds of tears and sighs
(bright dews that fall from heaven, crystal-clear)
in various pools collects antiquities
and so must reap old griefs through misty eyes;
while the one who dwells on beauty, so painful here,
finds ephemeral hopes and certain miseries.

SONNET XXXI: LOVE'S LORDSHIP, TO TOMMASO DE' CAVALIERI
by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A che più debb' io.

Am I to confess my heart's desire
with copious tears and windy words of grief,
when a merciless heaven offers no relief
to souls consumed by fire?
Why should my aching heart aspire
to life, when all must die? Beyond belief
would be a death delectable and brief,
since in my compound woes all joys expire!

Therefore, because I cannot dodge the blow,
I rather seek whoever rules my breast,
to glide between her gladness and my woe.
If only chains and bonds can make me blessed,
no marvel if alone and bare I go
to face the foe: her captive slave oppressed.

Michelangelo Epigram Translations
loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

I saw the angel in the marble and freed him.
I hewed away the coarse walls imprisoning the lovely apparition.
Each stone contains a statue; it is the sculptor’s task to release it.
The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark.

AIM HIGH

The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark.—Michelangelo

If we shoot for the stars
to only end up on Mars,
that's still quite a trip.
The choice is ours.
—Michael R. Burch

Our greatness is only bounded by our horizons.
Be at peace, for God did not create us to abandon us.
God grant that I always desire more than my capabilities.
My soul’s staircase to heaven is earth’s loveliness.
I live and love by God’s peculiar light.
Trifles create perfection, yet perfection is no trifle.
Genius is infinitely patient, and infinitely painstaking.
I have never found salvation in nature; rather I love cities.
He who follows will never surpass.
Beauty is what lies beneath superfluities.
I criticize via creation, not by fault-finding.
If you knew how hard I worked, you wouldn’t call it “genius.”

Keywords/Tags: Michelangelo, Italian sonnet, sonnet, sonnets, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, translation, translations, English, love, affinity and love, love and art, beauty, art, artistic work, light