The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. The idea you carry close to…
Like the little stream Making its way Through the mossy crevices I, too, quietly Turn clear and transparent. by Ryokan, translated by John Stevens Sitting by this little babbling stream in my mind’s eye takes me back to times when I used to cycle out of Glasgow and into the countryside, stopping and sitting…
Don’t give me consolation I’m ashamed of my tears Go without looking at me I don’t want you to find me weak Go And give me the opportunity To carve for my cheek A mask of stone To hide and seek. by Dr Parween Pazhwak (Afghanistan) I recognise this feeling of exposed vulnerability and…