One Grumley Guest

The Gray Selchie

In the north away there lives a maid:
"Bye loo, my baby," she begins;
"Little know I my child's father
Or if land or sea he's living in."

Then there arose at her bed feet
An grumley guest, I'm sure it was he,
Saying, "Here am I, thy child's father,
Although that I am not comely."

"I am a man upon the land,
I am a selchie in the sea.
And when I am in my own country,
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie."

And he has taken a purse of gold,
And he has put it upon her knee,
Saying, "Give to me my little wee son,
And take thee up thy nurse's fee."

"And it shall come to pass on a summer's day
When the sun shines hot on every stone,
That I shall take my little wee son
And teach him for to swim in the foam.

"And you will marry a hunter good
And a proud good hunter I'm sure he will be,
But he'll go out on a May morning,
And kill my little wee son and me."

And lo, she did marry a hunter good.
And a proud good hunter, I'm sure it was he,
And the very first shot that ere he did shoot
He killed the son and the gray selchie.

In the north away there lives a maid:
"Bye loo, my baby," she begins;
"Little know I my child's father,
Or if land or sea he's living in."

--Old English Ballad

One Worrying Job

I always think that poetry is more terrible than painting, though painting is a dirtier and a much more worrying job.

--Vincent van Gogh

One Green-Haired Army

I Hear an Army Charging Upon the Land
By James Joyce

I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.

They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.

They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?

One Tenacious Clock

The Clock on the Wall
By Samih al-Qasim

My city collapsed
The clock was still on the wall
Our neighborhood collapsed
The clock was still on the wall
The street collapsed
The clock was still on the wall
The square collapsed
The clock was still on the wall
My house collapsed
The clock was still on the wall
The wall collapsed
The clock
Ticked on

One Self-Replicating City

The City
By Constantine Cavafy

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
I will find another city, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years,
and ruined and wasted."

There are no new lands, no other seas to find.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.