Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” | "If you want to really hurt your parents, and you don't have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. |
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Well, this one is my favourite poem of him. I love this poem so much for it's either beautiful and meaningful. It's originally called Derai-derai Cemara, this one is an English translation. translated by John H. McGlynn Pines scatter in the distance,
as day becomes night, branches slap weakly at the window, pushed by a sultry wind. I’m now a person who can survive, so long ago I left childhood behind, though once there was something, that now counts for nothing at all. Life is but postponement of defeat, a growing estrangement from youth’s unfettered love a knowing there’s always something left unsaid, before we finally acquiesce. But if this ever changing world |
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January 2022
Selected Poems 2013-2020
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