An impostor arranged his hair in a peculiar fashion, pretended to be a descendant of A'li and entered the town with a caravan from the Hejaz, saying that he had just arrived from a pilgrimage. He also presented an elegy to the king, alleging that he had himself composed it. One of the king’s courtiers, who had that year returned from a journey, said: "I have seen him at Bosrah on the Azhah festival, then how can he be a Haji?" Another said: "His father was a Christian at Melitah. How can he be a descendant of A'li? And his poetry has been found in the Divan of Anvari." The king ordered him to be beaten and expelled the country for his great mendacity. The man said: "O lord of the surface of the earth, I shall say something more and, if it is not true, I shall deserve any punishment which thou mayest decree." He asked: "What is it?"’
When a stranger brings before thee buttermilk
Two measures of it will be water and a spoonful sour milk.
If thou hast heard heedless talk from thy slave, be not offended.
A man who has seen the world utters much falsehood.
The king laughed, told him that all his life he had not uttered more true words than these and ordered the present which the fellow hoped for to be got ready.
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.
Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride
On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow
Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
THE LAMP of day, with-ill presaging glare,
Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave;
Th' inconstant blast howl'd thro' the dark'ning air,
And hollow whistled in the rocky cave.
Lone as I wander'd by each cliff and dell,
Once the lov'd haunts of Scotia's royal train; 1
Or mus'd where limpid streams, once hallow'd well, 2
Or mould'ring ruins mark the sacred fane. 3
Th' increasing blast roar'd round the beetling rocks,
The clouds swift-wing'd flew o'er the starry sky,
The shoals below the horrid caverns of a lagoon
usurp all terraces and embankments,
just for the feast on bloodꓽ
and cremated corals.
Ecclesiastes of the third age is unknown to them —
they who in all seasons,
have feasted in flesh and blood,
including that of a famous guru
I saw you lying in the silent land,
I bent to hold you by the hand;
It was heart-wrenching to not feel you,
Days spent without you are still due.
I took the relation for granted
And nothing else was ever wanted,
I thought we'd stay together forever;
But you turned out to be rather clever---
They drew in foreign power and invaded
The other brothers in the name of liberation.
With the army who changed uniform, they raided
At dawn, suddenly. With difficulty, nation
Defended against an enemy desperately.
The young soldiers’re at the age of twenty.
Elder brother was dead at the battle
Of Youndug, Pohang at the Walker line.
After In-Cheon Operation, they retreated to scuttle.
i woke up in a haze
a fog foreshadowing
with the unexplainable
nature of life
i sailed my bike in the storm
screamed in terror and delight
hoping to outrun my demons
The baleful crows of nightingales
sound the lamentation of one’s final throes.
The skies cry for the thoughts and memories you’ve left behind,
the beautiful flowers shrivel up in response; petals once alluring now lifeless
Never would one think that in your passing
brings such a feeling of melancholy and longing.
The cries of toiling people comes with you in your rest,
Beneath the murky ground – amidst the vast and desolate plains
until the echoes of life leave their bodies.