Archive

poem

https://nancybond.wordpress.com/2009/05/09/my-mother-kept-a-garden/amp/

image

@Gardens by the Bay.

My Mother kept a garden,
a garden of the heart,

She planted all the good things
that gave my life it’s start.

She turned me to the sunshine
and encouraged me to dream,

Fostering and nurturing
the seeds of self-esteem…

And when the winds and rain came,
she protected me enough-

But not too much because she knew
I’d need to stand up strong and tough.

Her constant good example
always taught me right from wrong-

Markers for my pathway
that will last a lifetime long.

I am my Mother’s garden.

I am her legacy-
And I hope today she feels the love
reflected back from me.

– Author Unknown

Advertisements

image

Photo taken by me at PS Cafe Dempsey Singapore. I love how a few medicine bottles are upcycled with ferns cut from roadside trees into objects of beauty, illustrating how beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

ʎʇʇǝɹԀ Ugly by Abdullah Shoaib

I’m very ugly

So don’t try to convince me that

I am a very beautiful person

Because at the end of the day

I hate myself in every single way

And I’m not going to lie to myself by saying

There is beauty inside of me that matters

So rest assured I will remind myself

That I am a worthless, terrible person

And nothing you say will make me believe

I still deserve love

Because no matter what

I am not good enough to be loved

And I am in no position to believe that

Beauty does exist within me

Because whenever I look in the mirror I always think

Am I as ugly as people say?

(Now read bottom up)

Note: Someone sent me this. I dont know who Abdullah Shoaib is. Its interesting that reading left to right, top down or bottom up, changes the meaning.

Western cultures read from left to right. Chinese culture read from right to left for instance (sun rises from the east to the west).

If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you will also miss the stars- Tagore

如果你因怀念太阳而流眼泪,你也会错过夜晚的星星

image

Gradensbythebay# #christmaslightup2017#

Translated by Coleman Barks
http://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poetry/poems/guest-house

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

image
Photo taken by Himself.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Jeladuddin Rumi

from Rumi: Selected Poems, trans Coleman Barks with John Moynce, A. J. Arberry, Reynold Nicholson (Penguin Books, 2004)

http://wap.5156edu.com/xhy/

Chinese is a very rich language filled with idiomatic sayings.

歇后语xiehouyu are two part sayings. The first part is a riddle, puzzle or reference to story or history and the second part, sometimes not expressed, is the meaning.

I shall list a few all associated with kitchen utensils.

热锅里的蚂蚁
rè guō shàng de mǎ yǐ     –
形容心里焦急,坐立不安

anxious, like ants on a hot wok

打翻的五味瓶
Dǎ fān de wǔwèi píng –
心里有 酸 甜 苦 辣 咸 的滋味

很难受 不舒服的感觉
Knock over the 5 flavours bottle – mixed feelings, mostly unpleasant
image

大理石压咸菜缸
Dàlǐshí yā xiáncài gāng –
大才小用
Use marble vessel to ferment preserved vegetable – waste of talent or wrong use of talent

炒菜的勺子
Chǎocài de sháozi –
尝尽了酸甜苦辣
The spoon used for cooking has tasted all flavours – and all life’s experiences, the happy, sad, bitter and painful.

image

Photo taken of wall mural in Tiong Bahru depicting a traditional Chinese past-time where men would bring their caged birds to socialise and bird singing contest.

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith “A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”
Not that, amassing flowers,
Youth sighed “Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?”
Not that, admiring stars,
It yearned “Nor Jove, nor Mars;
Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!”

For thence,—a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,—
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i’ the scale.

Let us not always say,
“Spite of this flesh to-day
I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!”
As the bird wings and sings,
Let us cry “All good things
Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!”

Now, who shall arbitrate?
Ten men love what I hate,
Shun what I follow, slight what I receive;
Ten, who in ears and eyes
Match me: we all surmise,
They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe?

I first heard of this poem thirty years ago as it was part of the school motto of my father’s school. Then my brothers and now my nephew. The best is yet to be was then an aspiration for the younger me. Life can be better.

Revisiting the poem, I realise that the poem is about the paradox of life. The failures of our life breeds success. The limitations of our flesh gives appreciation of the gifts of life. Let us not be too anxious about disagreements and unrealized goals as the ultimate truth is out of our reach anyway. But let’s keep our focus upwards as we draw near the curtain of our lives.

It is disease that makes health pleasant, hunger that makes fullness good, and weariness that makes rest sweet. – Heraclitus