Troubled Water

Tengo una voz que me dice: Tú sigue adelante, no puedes parar dale más, dale gas que eres fuerte tú puedes que tú puedes más que tú eres lo más, que tú quieres más nunca te conformes tú te lo mereces tu eres invencible -y esa vocecita casi me convence pero luego se viene otra voz Tengo otra voz, tengo otra voz que me dice: Shhhhh calma Tu tranquilo Más tranquilo hay que vivir la vida con mucha calma y serenidad Y de pronto entre tanta calma una voz amarga empieza a gritar: Hay que matarles a todos! Hay que matarles a todos! Apartad las criaturas que estoy loco, estoy muy loco!!! Odio, odio odio a todo el mundo!!! Pero luego se viene otra voz que me dice que Noooo! Paz, paz, paz, paz y amor! La vida me sonríe siempre estoy de buen humor Paz, paz, paz, paz y amor! Y si no fuera por esa voz que siempre me dice que no Que estoy acabo, totalmente hundido Todo el mundo en contra mío, tengo en contra todo el mundo Y esto no puedo perdonarlo y esto no puedo perdonarlo Bueno va tal vez no sea p...

흰 수건이 검은 머리를 두르고 흰 고무신이 거친 발에 걸리다 흰 저고리 치마가 슬픈 몸집을 가리고 흰 띠가 가는 허리를 질끈 동이다 슬픈 족속 Up where the seasons pass, the sky is filled with autumn. In this untroubled quietude I could almost count these autumn-couched stars. But why I cannot now enumerate those one or two stars in my breast is because the dawn is breaking soon, and I have tomorrow night in store, and because my youth is not yet done. Memory for one star, love for another star, sorrow for another star, longing for another star, poetry for another star, and oh! mother for another star. Mother! I try to call each star by some such evocative word,  names of school children with whom I shared desks,  names of alien girls like Pai, Kyunh, Ok,  names of maidens who have already become mothers,  names of neighbors who lived in poverty,  names of birds and beasts like pigeon, puppy, rabbit, donkey, deer,  and names of poets like Francis, Jammes and Reiner Maria Rilke. They are as far away and intangible as th...

« We stay up so late that the sun is already fat and high above the trees by the time we wake up, and Stig is hissing furiously for more mouse. Dad makes me a cup of hot milk in my favourite mug. I sip the milk, which is a little bit too hot. I’ve just finished a book that talked about hot chocolate with clouds of pillowy whipped cream on top and sticky marshmallows in pink and white. I haven't ever had hot chocolate or whipped cream or marshmallows but today I can almost taste their sugary sweetness. I get dressed to go outside because we always plant a tree on my birthday. Dad planted an oak when l was first born and now it's taller than I am but still teeny tiny next to all the oaks that are hundreds and hundreds of years old. This year I want to plant a silver birch, because they shine like moonlight. You're not supposed to plant them until November but we're nearly there and I said please please please. We take Stig out into the sparkling morning and she hops aroun...