the hum of passing days
@humofpada.bsky.social
Light, sound, and distance.
l’oiseau qu’on n’ouït jamais / une autre fois en la vie -Stéphane Mallarmé
The typhoon arrived at night, and at times I thought the windows might shatter. Outside, dark trees were swaying violently. In between gusts of wind and heavy rain, I suddenly heard birds, and I imagined them in the darkness, clinging to a branch and singing into the storm.
Even though the world will end this early morning light
1st lines Among dark water rocks summer insects flit, with no bonfire, to the break of day Mizu kuraki iwama ni mayou natsumushi no tomoshi kechite mo yo o akasu kana Princess Shikishi translated by Hiroaki Sato #1stlines #poetry #waka #translation
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Sylvia Plath
Beautiful find via @francejobin.bsky.social's highly recommended radio show Quantum Waves on @campradio.bsky.social #nowlistening
Epsilon Lyrae, by Paul Vakana
from the album SB4
paulvakana.bandcamp.com
These heavy years have passed like summer clouds
Only a fragment, yet it still stops you in your tracks: A small survival from Amarna, where art got radically, gloriously strange under Akhenaten. Dating to around 1353–1336 BC 📷 Metropolitan Museum
As time passes, the thought grows that life should amount to something, and I haven't done much to make a difference to anyone or anything. But the world is not a tree to carve your initials into, so perhaps it's better to leave it whole, without cut marks or other traces.
For #caturday, a thread of Chinese cat night-lights, porcelain figures made since the Ming period, often for the export market. A candle was placed inside with the light shining through the cat's eyes, reportedly intended for children afraid of the dark & perhaps also to scare off rats
A few days ago, when the window was open, I could hear cicadas in the distance. They sounded uncertain amid all the birdsong, and their short outburst ended abruptly, like a rehearsal for autumn.
"How fragile we are, between the few good moments." - Jane Hirshfield