The Lesson (By Maya Angelou - Phenomenal Woman)

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live.

SUNTHORN PHU (1786-1855) - People's Poet of Thailand

"Oh, how everything was against me then. Even termites made their way to my bedroom. They ate the mat and destroyed all my books. It was distressing to think of those books And the yellow robes I used to wear Had holes in them like my weeping eyes..."

Der See (translated to English, from SULAMITH by Frithjof Schoun)

Thou, whom I love, art the wide lake,
To whose shore I descended early,
When its waves swayed in the morning
And snow shone from the distant mountains.

Thou art that, on whose edge I stand brooding,
And never shall thy light fail me;
Thou must lie smiling in my view
And light my desire and my woe.

Thou art the silver smile, which the walls
Of the mountains do not contain or confine;
My blessed view does not fail at any end.

But my love must finely garland thee
And gird thee round as a green country
Around thy water that glitters in the morning.


2


Thou art the lake, when the morning rains
On white mountains, and the gentle way
Of the wind of thy surface touches
And wondrously moves silver circles in play;
Thou art that, which those bright smiles preserve,
The morning beauty, to thy Lord's praise;
And there Thou also smilest, the bright day
Has gently lain on thy brow.


3

Thou art the lake
And art wide,
A blessed surface,
So wide and deep
Like eternity.