from The Stolen Chile, by W. B. Yeats:

For he comes, the human child

to the water

He comes, the human child

to the water and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand

from a world more full of weeping than he can understand

Human child

human child

With a faery, hand in hand

from a world more full of weeping than he can understand...

than he can understand...

he can understand...

As Irish poetry goes I prefer this.

(And probably more appropriate to Thais).

'The Workmans Friend'

When things go wrong and will not come right,

Though you do the best you can,

When life looks black as the hour of night -

A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When money's tight and hard to get

And your horse has also ran,

When all you have is a heap of debt -

A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,

And your face is pale and wan,

When doctors say you need a change,

A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When food is scarce and your larder bare

And no rashers grease your pan,

When hunger grows as your meals are rare -

A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

In time of trouble and lousey strife,

You have still got a darlint plan

You still can turn to a brighter life -

A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

Flann O'Brien

Edited November 7, 201114 yr by sceadugenga

well, not knowing what Plain is, nor thinking that Thais like Plain (they prefer status symbols),

and guessing that Plain is something disappearing from the shelves of stores,

and thinking that maybe Plain isn't what is to be paid respects to on Loi Kratong night,

and wondering if you are still 'teatotal' sober...

you leave me wondering!

Wonder on.

I don't have a poem or anything but I certainly do hope that so many of the Thai people whose lives have been totally disrupted if not permanenlty damaged by the floods will ultimately come out of it OK.

Maybe another reminder that a lot of us should recognize how very lucky we are in the "game of life".

The Loy Kratong song

November full moon shines

Loy Krathong, loy Krathong

and the water’s high in the river and local klong

Loy Krathong is here and everybody’s full of cheer

We’re together at the klong

Each one with his krathong

As we push away we pray

We can see a better day

@ joel, nice to see there is space for the occasional highbrow thread :-)

Loy Krathong was indeed delightful in the village with the house strewn with banana leaves as the girls made our krathongs, and the main event at the local klong attended by around 1000 I'd say - me being the only pale face as usual :-) the early morning offerings at the village temple were also a privilege and pleasure for me to participate in.

On another note, those Irish definitely do seem to have contributed more than their fair share of literature. I like both Yeats and F O'B, and read the latter's complete works last year after giving it to my dad for his birthday. FOB is usually considered to be a satirist rather than a poet, while Yeats is more famous in school-boy circles for having the testicles of a monkey implanted in later life (sorry to lower the tone), though he is of course regarded as a major poet. Anyway, here's anither from Yeats, perhaps more reminiscent

Of TV on a bad day -

I heard the old, old men say,

'Everything alters,

And one by one we drop away.'

They had hands like claws, and their knees

Were twisted like the old thorn-trees

By the waters.

I heard the old, old men say,

'All that's beautiful drifts away

Like the waters.'

A 7th century CE poem after the rice harvest, about 12 hundred years after Sidhartha I guess. Fortunately little has changed, though I'm sure a lot has been lost in translation. Thanks again to @joel for a rare highbrow thread.

Coarse the rush-mat roof

Sheltering the harvest-hut

Of the autumn rice-field;

And my sleeves are growing wet

With the moisture dripping through

John Flory

Born 1890

Died of drink 1927

Here lies the bones of poor John Flory;

His story was the old, old story.

Money, women, cards and gin

Were the four things that did him in.

He has spent sweat enough to swim in

Making love to stupid women;

He has known misery past thinking

In the dismal art of drinking.

Oh stranger, as you voyage here

And read this welcome, shed no tear;

But take the simple gift I give,

And learn from me how not to live.

A classic poem.

Thanks Changraider - I like it. Reminiscent of Haiku.

Where's it from?

Coarse the rush-mat roof

Sheltering the harvest-hut

Of the autumn rice-field;

And my sleeves are growing wet

With the moisture dripping through

made checking into this low-brow forum worth it, for once (and I'd started to consider going to the Isaan forum!)

@joel how astute, yes an extended haiku known as a tanka :-)

It's from a collection of 100 Japanese poems illustrated by Katsushika Hokusai. Most people will have seen his illustrations although few will recognise his name. I've uploaded the illustration to this poem, which is apparently by the Emperor Tenchi Tenno, I hope the mobile interface to TV will work ok. These are not just any old poems, but represent the core of Japanese culture, as I learned yesterday at their website, which also displays all the illustrations -

http://visipix.dynalias.com/sites-en/hoku_100_poem/poem_01_05.htm

:

Have a good evening.

thanks.

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"Nature is beautiful, but you should have something to drink with it"

A famous Dutch national poet, Willem Kloos, 1859 to 1938.

Literary seen an impressionist.

He married in 1900 and his wife got him off the alcohol

and at the same time, in the same move, off his poetry.

Limbo

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In Dutch, red unmistakably by a Fleming, his poem "Avond", evening:

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Edited December 11, 201114 yr by Limbo