moon hymn

Moon Hymn

by Roxana & Roxana :-)

(version 2)

more hope for Manuela

and another perspective: leaving point despair, leaving point hope - for the point life, that is now.

early spring in the woods

ghostly tea party

i used to make tea for you
my brother, dearest one
do you remember, my night
and my goal, do you
the freshly sweet leaves
known only to you
the first-flush of my blood
won't you come
for the second one too
sip me now
i am still strong
i am still bitter
make me the threshold
to your pale vice


my beautiful friend
lower the blinds
no tea is left
the guests have come
they roam the rooms
like quiet shadows
they lift the cup
my hair the net
holding the clay
together in dream
with hidden smiles
polite evasions
they pretend to drink
the invisible brew
out of pity
out of contempt
for me who is
roaming the shadow
pervading the curtain
the mellow door
pretending as well
that my first-flush pain
has ceased to carry
you within
won't the second one come
to put my dark-green blood
my richest, to sleep

yellow

my yellow sping - quite trivial when compared to ffflaneur's most refined combative melancholic's grey guide to Spring in general (alas i am afraid vivid colours always lose in front of a 'grey so soothing, so lenient'). but i get a little help from swiss (i can't give you the link because the colour poem is not online anymore), who states quite convincingly that 'yellow is despair'. and thus we go back to the eternal april as the 'cruellest month', 'mixing memory and desire' (ffflaneur, i can't help it either :-).

and for this particular mixture of white blossoms, forsythia and an even more yellow willow, the Japanese reference couldn't be absent either: this small poem, a gift that i got today, which seems to have inspired Heidegger as well.

to smell a plum blossom
in a cherry blossom
and let both bloom
on a willow branch
--thus is my wish.

Nakahara Tokinori

a japanese poetics of hair

To punish men
for their endless sins,
god gave me
this fair skin,
this long black hair.

Akiko Yosano

My hair from sleeping this morning
I will not comb out the beauty you made of it
Making a pillow with your hand.



Murasaki Shikibu

Hair all tangled this morning -
Shall I smooth it
With spring rain
Dripping from the jet-black
Wings of swallows?


Akiko Yosano

A thousand lines
Of black black hair
All tangles, tangles --
And tangles too
My thoughts of love!


Akiko Yosano

Black hair
Tangled in a thousand strands.
Tangled my hair and
Tangled my tangled memories
Of our long nights of love making.


Akiko Yosano

To my black hair
Comes wafted
The scent of lilies
Endearingly
Like the breath of a man.


Akiko Yosano

Will he always love me?
I cannot read his heart.
This morning my thoughts are
as tangled as my black hair.


Lady Horikawa

With not a thought
for my black hair's disarray,
I lay myself down —
soon longing for the one
whose hands have so often brushed it smooth.


Izumi Shikibu

je est un autre (colours 2)

at Black Sun's request (backed by Swiss), i give you the Romanian version as well. just in case you wondered about that strange language...
oh, and i have recorded it live with Gentle (who really is Gentle, i had to fight to get that cold voice out of her :-).
but i like the me/Swiss version much better, it's much more dramatic - i guess because of the greater contrast due to the female/male split.

poem 2 romanian
tr. Roxana
spoken by: Roxana & Gentle





and a sepia bonus of pictures: