My Inspiration

Dear friends, on the 11th of September, 96, I came across this book, "The Genesis Of Shakespeare's Art" by Edwin James Dunning. It was very very old. The book was tied together by a string of pink tape and wrapped with plastic at the edges.

As I slowly and gently opened the front cover, the yellowish pages seemed to illuminate, glowing with wisdom. As I flipped through the pages, words were of no importance, only feelings. Feelings of joy, of excitement, and of deeply touched. Maybe Columbus had that same mixed feeling in 1492.

The book was printed in 1897. To me, every page presented its history, its journey, and its yearn for appreciation.

1897.

I got the book from the library, in a dark corner, on a shelf filled with rows and rows of books. I think I'll return it after I finish :), and hope one day, someone will find it and appreciate it as I did, this priceless piece of history and wisdom.

September 11, 96 JS

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bell a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake

The woods are lovely,dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

The poem begins as a simple description of events, but that it ends in a way that suggests meanings far beyond the specific description. Note that Frost decided to rhyme not two lines, but three in each stanza. Furthermore, he picked up the rhyme from third line of stanza one and carrying it over into stanza two and so forth.
But why did the repetition took place in the last two lines? The first time is clearly "I have a long way to go yet before I can go to bed tonight." Yet the second time the words seemingly transformed into symbols. We can only say that "miles to go" is approximately "the road of life" and "before I sleep" is maybe "before I take my final rest". Refer also to Writing Poems.

This is the poem voted as Britain's favourite post-war poem last week( it was Britain's National Poetry Week )
JS / October, 15

Warning

Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer
gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've got no money for
butter.
I shall sit down on the pavemant when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in the other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in
boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children,
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and
surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

© 96 JS GAN / revised October 17, 96

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