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wintercreek though I'm sure I saw it elsewhere.
2/5/09 01:11 amkateWhen you see this, post your favorite poem.
My favorite poem (and I only have six or seven that I even like - not a poetry person, me):
Love Sonnet LXXIX
by Pablo Neruda
By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in their sleep will defeat the darkness
like a double drum in the forest, pounding
against the thick wall of wet leaves.
Night travel: black flame of sleep
that snips the threads of the earth's grapes,
punctual as a headlong train that would haul
shadows and cold rocks, endlessly.
Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion,
to the constancy that beats in your chest
with the wings of a swan underwater,
so that our sleep might answer all the sky's
starry questions with a single key,
with a single door the shadows had closed.
Translated by Stephen Tapscott
Work has eased up. AHA has set their deadline back again, that's how f*cked up their new site is. But all my NIH apps are in a day early, so I don't have to go in early tomorrow, or stay late. I might even have a chance to really write, instead of the piddling couple hundred words a day I've been scribbling for the last week.
How are you all? Well, I hope. I have things to say, but not enough time or energy to say them. Except this: GO READ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meansgirl's FANTASTIC LORNE/ZELENKA FIC RIGHT NOW. Past and Pending. A lovely AU, great description, hot sex, and wonderful characterization to boot. Go!
My favorite poem (and I only have six or seven that I even like - not a poetry person, me):
Love Sonnet LXXIX
by Pablo Neruda
By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in their sleep will defeat the darkness
like a double drum in the forest, pounding
against the thick wall of wet leaves.
Night travel: black flame of sleep
that snips the threads of the earth's grapes,
punctual as a headlong train that would haul
shadows and cold rocks, endlessly.
Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion,
to the constancy that beats in your chest
with the wings of a swan underwater,
so that our sleep might answer all the sky's
starry questions with a single key,
with a single door the shadows had closed.
Translated by Stephen Tapscott
Work has eased up. AHA has set their deadline back again, that's how f*cked up their new site is. But all my NIH apps are in a day early, so I don't have to go in early tomorrow, or stay late. I might even have a chance to really write, instead of the piddling couple hundred words a day I've been scribbling for the last week.
How are you all? Well, I hope. I have things to say, but not enough time or energy to say them. Except this: GO READ
meansgirl's FANTASTIC LORNE/ZELENKA FIC RIGHT NOW. Past and Pending. A lovely AU, great description, hot sex, and wonderful characterization to boot. Go!For easy organization later:
