Weekly Contest
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Classic poem of the day
T HERE'S A QUAINT little place they call Lullaby Town—
It's just back of those hills where the sunsets go down.
Its streets are of silver, its buildings of gold,
And its palaces dazzling things to behold;
There are dozens of spires, housing musical chimes;
Its people are folk from the Nursery Rimes,
And at night it's alight, like a garden of gleams,
With fairies, who bring the most wonderful dreams.
The Sandman is Mayor, and he rules like a King.
The climate's so balmy that, always, it's spring,
And it's never too cold, and it's never too hot,
And I'm told that there's nowhere a prettier spot;
All in and about it are giant old trees,
Filled with radiant birds that will sing when you please;
But the strange thing about it—this secret, pray, keep—
Is, it never awakes till the world is asleep.
So when night settles down, all its lights snap aglow,
And its streets fill with people who dance to...
member poem of the day
Ho Xuan Huong English Translations by Michael R. Burch
Ho Xuan Huong (1772-1882) was a risqué Vietnamese poetess. Her verse, replete with nods, winks, sexual innuendo and a rich eroticism, was shocking to many readers of her day and will probably remain so to some of ours. Huong has been described as "the candid voice of a liberal female in a male-dominated society." Her output has been called "coy, often bawdy lyrics." I would add "suggestive to graphic." More information about this provocative poet follows these modern English translations of her poems.
Ốc Nhồi ("The Snail")
by Ho Xuan Huong
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
My parents produced a snail,
Night and day it slithers through slimy grass.
If you love me, remove my shell,
But please don't jiggle my little hole!
***
The Breadfruit or Jackfru
Weekly Contest
No contests this week.