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Thursday, December 29, 2022

       Marie Bortolotto 2022

A thatch hut in blue mountains beside a green stream
after so many years visits are now up to me
a few peach and plum trees blooming red and white
a green and yellow field of vegetables and wheat
all night I sit in bed listening to rain
when it clears I open the window and doze off watching clouds
nothing in life is better than being free
but getting free isn’t luck

Shiwu Qingqong 1272 - 1352
The Mountain Poem of Stonehouse
Translated by Red Pine/Bill Porter






 

Wednesday, December 28, 2022

 Actor David Cassidy's last words (2017): 

"So much wasted time"

Tuesday, December 27, 2022

Sunday, December 11, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022                                                          
 

 

"To stay young
To save the world,
Break the mirror."

- excerpted from "Break the Mirror"

- Nanao Sakaki, Japanese Wandering Poet, 1923 - 2008

Thursday, December 8, 2022


I love this version!  Mozart - Requiem
 

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

Sunday, October 23, 2022

Sunday, September 11, 2022

Sunday, September 4, 2022

Wednesday, August 17, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022

 

Marie Bortolotto 2022

Saturday, June 25, 2022

The Sultan's Picnic - Rahib Abou-Khalil

Thursday, June 16, 2022

Thursday, June 2, 2022

Sunday, May 29, 2022

Thursday, May 26, 2022

 

Marie Bortolotto 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Break the Mirror

by Nanao Sakaki, Japanese Walking Poet, 1923-2008

In the morning
After taking cold shower
--what a mistake--
I look at the mirror.

There, a funny guy,
Grey hair, white beard, wrinkled skin,
--what a pity--
Poor, dirty, old man,
He is absolutely not me, absolutely not.

Land and life
Fishing in the ocean
Sleeping in the desert with stars
Building a shelter in the mountains
Farming the ancient way
Singing with coyotes
Singing against nuclear war__
I'll never be tired of life.
Now I'm seventeen years old,
Very charming young man.

I sit quietly in lotus position,
Meditating, meditating for nothing.
Suddenly a voice comes to me:
"To stay young,
To save the world,
Break the mirror."

Sunday, May 22, 2022

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022


loneliness
lies within the listener --
a cuckoo's call

- Fukudo Chiyo-ni, Japanese Poet, 1103-1775 AD

Translated by Patricia Donegan and Yoshi Ishibashi


 

Monday, May 16, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022

breathing
walking
breathing
walking

~ M. Bortolotto 2022






 

Sunday, May 15, 2022

Santoka Taneda 1882 - 1940 Japanese Zen Haiku Poet

I love this video! Thank you to the artists who created it.

Santoka spent 16 years of his life as a mendicant Zen priest. He
did not follow the traditional conventions of the poetic forms in
which he worked. Instead he chose to write in a free style form.
His personal life was as interesting as his poetry. His family life
was filled with tragedy: his mother committed suicide when
he was very young, he himself tried to commit suicide several times
and was an alcoholic. All this misfortune compelled him to become
a mendicant Zen priest where he chose walking meditation
instead of zazen or sitting meditation. It is estimated he walked
28,000 miles during his life as a Zen priest. Some years after his
death, there was an interest in his life and poetry, possibly due to
his wandering zen lifestyle...

What I like most about this video, is that we see Santoka following
what is alive within him (the plant symbolism) throughout his life,
and I'm also touched by his poignant ending....

In one poem, he offers us a look at his vulnerable inner self:

No money
no things
no teeth
just me

And this one:

all day long
meeting demons
meeting buddhas

~ Haiku by Santoka Taneda
 

Thursday, April 28, 2022

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022


This way and that way,
I tried to keep the pail together
hoping the weak bamboo would never break
but suddenly the bottom fell out
no more water,
no more moon in the water,
and emptiness in my hand!

- Chiyono, Zen Buddhist Nun, Japan 13th c.





 T

Thursday, April 7, 2022

Saturday, April 2, 2022

Friday, April 1, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022


Although the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also leaks
between the roof planks
of this ruined house.

~ Izumi Shikibu, Japanese Buddhist Poetess, 11th c.
(Women in Praise of the Sacred, trans. by Jane Hirschfield
& Martha Atatani)





 


Thursday, March 31, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022

Doesn't anyone see
by Shih-te

English version by Red Pine (Bill Porter)
Original Language Chinese


Doesn't anyone see
the turmoil in the Three Worlds
is due to endless delusion
once thoughts stop the mind becomes clear
nothing comes or goes neither birth nor death

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Sunday, March 27, 2022

"When I run after what I think I want,
my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety;
if I sit in my own place of patience,
what I need flows to me, and without pain.
From this I understand that
what I want also wants me,
is looking for me and attracting me.
There is a great secret here
for anyone who can grasp it."

-Shams-i Tabrizi  (Persian Poet 1185-1248)

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Marie Bortolotto, Mixed Media, Collage, Repurposed book, 2022


THE POEMS OF LALLA DED
translated by Ranjit Hoskote

 

I wore myself out, looking for myself.
No one could have worked harder to break the code.
I lost myself in myself and found a wine cellar. Nectar, I tell you.
There were jars and jars of the good stuff, and no one to drink it.

 ~

Don’t think I did all this to get famous.
I never cared for the good things of life.
I always ate sensibly. I knew hunger well,
and sorrow, and God.

~

What the books taught me, I’ve practised.
What they didn’t teach me, I’ve taught myself.
I’ve gone into the forest and wrestled with the lion.
I didn’t get this far by teaching one thing and doing another.

 

 

Monday, March 21, 2022

Saturday, March 19, 2022

Oceans
 
I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
                    And nothing
happens! Nothing...Silence...Waves...

    --Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and am I standing now, quietly, in a new life?
 
Juan Ramon Jimenez 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Marie Bortolotto 2022, Collage

 

A callarse
by Pablo Neruda

Original Spanish Version


Ahora contaremos doce
y nos quedamos todos quietos.

Por una vez sobre la tierra
no hablemos en ningun idioma,
por un segundo detengamonos,
no movamos tanto los brazos.

Seria un minuto fragante,
sin prisa, sin locomotoras,
todos estariamos juntos
en una inquietud instantanea.

Los pescadores del mar frio
no harian danio a las ballenas
y el trabajador de la sal
miraria sus manos rotas.

Los que preparan guerras verdes,
guerras de gas, guerras de fuego,
victorias sin sobrevivientes,
se pondrian un traje puro
y andarian con sus hermanos
por la sombra, sin hacer nada.

No se confunda lo que quiero
con la inaccion definitiva:
la vida es solo lo que se hace,
no quiero nada con la muerte.

Si no pudimos ser unanimes
moviendo tanto nuestras vidas,
tal vez no hacer nada una vez,
tal vez un gran silencio pueda
interrumpir esta tristeza,
este no entendernos jamas
y amenazarnos con la muerte,
tal vez la tierra nos ensenie
cuando todo parece muerto
y luego todo estaba vivo.

Ahora contare hasta doce
y tu te callas y me voy.

 

English Translation by Alatair Reid

KEEPING QUIET

by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Friday, March 18, 2022

Marie Bortolotto 2022