Hwang Jini

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When sijo poetry first appeared in the late 14th century, it was regarded as many as unique to Korea, as it was originally written in Korean. As such, many early sijo poems have had to be translated.

Hwang Jini is widely regarded as one of the leading Sijo poets, and her work in the 16th century focused on love and longing.
Alas, what have I done? didn’t I know how I would yearn?
Had I but bid him stay, How could he have gone?
But stubborn, I sent him away, and now such longing learn!

A common theme in Jini’s work is wanting someone who is absent, and wishing for their return. In the poem above, Hwang Jini is clearly pining for her lost love, How could he have gone? She doesn’t feel like he could return, I sent him away, and now such longing learn. However, in the poem below, while she is pining for a lover, she believes he could return.

Oh that I might capture the essence of this deep midwinter night
And fold it softly into the waft of a spring-moon quilt,
Then fondly uncoil it the night my beloved returns.

Hwang here hopes to capture the essence of this night in the sensual poem above as she waits for her lover to return, as she folds it softly, before she’ll fondly uncoil it the night her beloved comes back.

Like Hwang, Denny’s Bradbury sijo poem also looks at love.

What I have is mine but I share with you
All the apples and grapes and oranges too
Water is the world’s song

Denny clearly gives everything she has to her beloved too. Like Hwang shares the essence of that night with her partner, Denny shares all that she has. Both women use objects to describe their love, with Denny using fruit to represent love, and Hwang using a quilt, with the obvious sexual connotations that come with using an object from the bedroom to symbolise love.

Denny’s contemporary poem, however, could also be seen as a love letter to the world. There is no particular person that this is clearly addressed to. Water is the world’s song suggests a more general love, that Denny here wants to bring across her caring nature, and her generosity and an all-giving love, compared to the Hwang’s sijo, which is referring to a more sexual love.

W B Yeats

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There are times when only poetry will do to satisfy the inner hunger and hurt that the world throws your way.  Today I remember Yeats;

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

 

Thank you Yeats,

To those who hurt today, and for those who know from bursting through the clouds in an aeroplane, the sun is there beyond the clouds.

Best wishes, Denny Bradbury

Woodpeckers and Bumblebees

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Crocus and daffodils, forget me nots and wallflowers, woodpeckers and bumblebees;

as I walk through the emerging spring all these heighten my senses.  Knowing that the cycle of seasons is on track once more engenders a sense of belonging to a greater whole than our tiny existence.  We are part of it but it is not only about ‘us’.

In Dorset recently I saw the biggest black bumblebee, (no identification possible but if rare bombus soroeensis then how great) newly emerged hunting for food.  My spirits lifted and I went on my way hoping that she would create her nest and her offspring would survive to breed again and help with vital pollination, we won’t survive without it.

Listening to the woodpeckers I ignored the ringing of my mobile phone as I didn’t want to waste a second of the beautiful noise.

very best wishes for a warm and trouble free spring.

Denny Bradbury

Ruba’iyat of Omar Khayyam

I love to dip in and out of my two versions of these poems.  Edward Fitzgerald’s is good and has a jaunty air to it but the more meaningful in the long term for me is the version by Peter Avery and John Heath-Stubbs

Thought for the day:

The captives of intellect and of the nice distinction,

Worrying about Being and Non-Being themselves become nothing;

You with the news, go and seek out the juice of the vine,

Those without it wither before they’re ripe.

I wish you a day blessed with good fortune

Denny Bradbury

Keats – When I have Fears that I may cease to be

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One of my sisters sent me this when I told her that I was taking too long to write and keep finding distractions keeping me away from what I know I want to do. Wonderful Keats:

When I have fears that I may cease to be

Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,

Before high pil’d & grave’d books, in charactry,

Hold like rich gamers the full ripen’d grain;

When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And feel that I may never live to trace

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!

That shall I never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love;- then on the shore

of the wide world I stand alone, and think,

Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

Good writing all you poets out there

Denny Bradbury