In the Mountains on a Summer Day
Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.Li Po b.701
Seeking?
The Quote Box
The writer’s only responsibility is to his art. He will be completely ruthless if he is a good one. He has a dream. Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency, security, happiness, all, to get the book written. If a writer has to rob his mother, he will not hesitate; the “Ode on a Grecian Urn” is worth any number of old ladies.
— William FaulknerThe Cat Cam
Travels to NZ
20 Years of 30 poems in 30 days!
Randomness
Categories
The Archives
Subscribe to Blog via Email
Join 24 other subscribers