Day: March 2, 2018

Dante’s PURGATORY, Canto 8: CORRADO MALASPINA

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CORRADO MALASPINA

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Comes from family

Known for hospitality —

Dante will be their guest

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NOTE: Throughout THE DIVINE COMEDY, Dante receives hints of his upcoming exile. Here he tells Corrado Malaspina that he is aware of the Malaspina family’s reputation for hospitality. Corrado tells him that within seven years he will know much better that hospitality.

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https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/2017/02/10/dantes-purgatory-canto-8/

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davidbrucehaiku: well-dressed and obese

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WELL-DRESSED AND OBESE

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well-dressed and obese:

these days one of these is more

seen than the other

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Magical Beds — Little Fears

Magical Beds Grey Moon – Friday (ep. 52) “My missus ain’t happy with me at the moment,” sighed Yuffie. “Why not?” asked Reala. “She said she wanted sex to be more magical between us,” replied Yuffie. “And?” pushed Fuen. “She threw a tantrum when I pulled a bunch of flowers and a deck of cards […]

via Magical Beds — Little Fears

Edward Thomas: Tears

It seems I have no tears left. They should have fallen—
Their ghosts, if tears have ghosts, did fall—that day
When twenty hounds streamed by me, not yet combed out
But still all equals in their rage of gladness
Upon the scent, made one, like a great dragon
In Blooming Meadow that bends towards the sun
And once bore hops: and on that other day
When I stepped out from the double-shadowed Tower
Into an April morning, stirring and sweet
And warm. Strange solitude was there and silence.
A mightier charm than any in the Tower
Possessed the courtyard. They were changing guard,
Soldiers in line, young English countrymen,
Fair-haired and ruddy, in white tunics. Drums
And fifes were playing ‘The British Grenadiers’.
The men, the music piercing that solitude
And silence, told me truths I had not dreamed,
And have forgotten since their beauty passed.
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Emily Dickinson: Because I Could Not Stop for Death

Emily D

 

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

 

We slowly drove, he knew no haste, 


And I had put away


My labor, and my leisure too,

For his civility.

 

We passed the school, where children strove


At recess, in the ring;

We passed the fields of gazing grain,

We passed the setting sun.

 

Or rather, he passed us;


The dews grew quivering and chill,

For only gossamer my gown,

My tippet only tulle.

 

We paused before a house that seemed


A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.

 

Since then ’tis centuries, and yet each


Feels shorter than the day


I first surmised the horses’ heads


Were toward eternity.

 

Note: A tippet is a shawl.

 

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