rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Wetness

Little more than heavy mist, tonight's rain has nevertheless soaked everything well. Unfortunately, one of the things it soaked was my telephone junction box. The tape which held its improvised rain hat in place has come loose recently without my notice. When the box gets wet, I'm lucky to have any Internet connection at all. I've been unable to get mail from my default inbox, and unable to get any connection to my main ISP. I'm using my backup, Juno, which is seldom good for more than a few minutes. I've run seriously afoul of Sluggo in the last couple of days, and I'm being punished. Thus, today's Sunday Verse must be brief, lest I be cut off before posting it. I won't even bother to put it behind a cut. It is from the Sung dynasty poet Li Ch'ing-chao.

TO THE TUNE OF "THE BODHISATTVA'S HEADDRESS"

Breeze soft, sun frail, spring still early.
In a new lined dress my heart was refreshed,
But when I rose from sleep I felt a chill.
I put plum blossoms in my hair.
Now they are withered.
Where is my homeland?
I forget it only when drunk.
The sandalwood incense burned out while I slept.
Now the perfume has gone,
But the wine has not gone.

---translated by Kenneth Rexroth and Ling Chung

If the day is dry enough, and the telephone box dries out, I will fashion a new rain hat for it and may be able to connect this evening. Happy Mid-February Day.
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