tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81593042400018899212024-02-20T04:19:12.778-08:00A field of dried grassfalling sick on a journey/ my dream goes wandering / over a field of dried grass [Basho]Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159304240001889921.post-7142300777124120902012-03-08T06:22:00.002-08:002012-03-08T06:34:49.522-08:00Travel in hyper-reality<span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">He asked: "Who is your idol?"</span></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I said: "No one."</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">However, I used to think about Thiện as my idol, when I was younger. His </span>imperfectness<span style="font-size: 100%;"> makes me fall deeply in love with him. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">I still have dream that I can visit all the rivers that Thiện </span>mentioned<span style="font-size: 100%;"> in his text.</span></span></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">Today is one year since he left this grim but </span>sparkling </span><span style="font-size: 100%; font-family: Georgia, serif; ">reality...</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159304240001889921.post-91701478367231605802008-08-30T11:14:00.000-07:002012-02-16T23:49:10.029-08:00A field of dried grass<span><span style="font-style: normal; "><span>I remember a Chinese proverb: </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: normal; "><i>Dried grass yields fireflies</i><br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: normal; "><span>I always think that it must be a summer night, when the sky is deeply dark, like velvet, like rose, like dry wind which passes through the grassland. Such a </span>scene<span>, just in my mind! </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: normal; "><span>And in the last days in his life, Basho had a poem like that:</span></span><br /><br /><i>falling sick on a journey<br />my dream goes wandering<br />over a field of dried grass</i><br /></span><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>Then here is a blog about the journey of a firefly :)</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>..........</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3