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Translating Prévert | Ne rêvez pas

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Ne rêvez pasº  (L’ordinateur)  Par Jacques Prévert  Ne rêvez pas  pointez  grattez vaquez marnez bossez trimez  Ne rêvez pas  l’électronique rêvera pour vous  Ne lisez pas  l’électrolyseur lira pour vous  Ne faites pas l’amour  l’électrocoïtal le fera pour vous  Pointez  grattez vaquez marnez bossez trimez  Ne vous reposez pas  le Travail repose sur vous. ---  Don’t dream  (The computer) (Tr. Jane. A. Odartey)   Don’t dream  punch in  scour haul slog over-work slave  Don’t dream  electronics will dream for you  Don’t read  electrolysers will read for you  Don’t love  electromagnetic coils will do it for you  Punch in scour haul slog over-work slave Don’t rest  Work rests on you.  ---  º (Jacques Prévert. Choses et autres :  Éditions Gallimard , 1972, p. 211)

Steeping | Lavender-Jasmine Green Tea

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  Here's a recipe for a new tea.  Not too strong, not too weak.  [If you are sensitive to caffeine , I wouldn't drink this tea after 3 PM] I used [for 16 ounces pot of tea]:  + Cloud mist green tea (Yun Wu) 1tsp  + Jasmine 1/4 tsp  + Lavender 1/4 tsp  + Pu'er 1/4 tsp [to balance taste] + Some bay leaves  + Green peppercorns or whatever you have––optional º Mix all  º Empty mixed tea into infuser and into pot  º Add water and bring to [just about to] boil [on medium heat] º Serve and slowly enjoy. . .  I am unable to describe the taste of this tea   So let me offer you a poem  by Issa:  My old home:  The face of the snail  Is the face of Buddha  Trans: R. H. Blyth  From   Haiku (Pocket Poets) ^_^ - Jane A. Odartey

Photography | A Snowy Day from a Window

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--- J. A. O.  

Poetry | Ask Me by William Stafford

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  Ask Me  --William Stafford   Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made. I will listen to what you say. You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait. We know the current is there, hidden; and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us. What the river says, that is what I say.  ---

Diary | Reflections on 2020 [Mad Solitude]

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Some years are an indecisive breeze on fingernails. Some are tar-like. You said “six feet” to me prior to March 2020, I thought, ah, that perfect stereotypical male height. And, face mask? You mean that which in Korean drama conceals identity and in Japanese drama expresses concern for others? I came from 2019 with two key resolutions: good-good solitude and less doings. So when in March the museum I freelanced at closed, and the after school art programs I taught got suspended, my real pressing concern was the rent––a common ache of one who works “gigs.” I’d been mentally preparing to pack up––if my efforts at self-dependence failed––and move back, shamelessly, home to Mother, if she can afford me. If not, then a one way ticket to Ghana. It never crossed my mind that traveling could drown in unprecedented waters––looks like one can never fully prepare.  Still, in April, I couldn’t help but sincerely write to a colleague, “I am scared and excited at once.” Their response was that my fe