"Autumn Comes

  For base and noble the same end
  When every ambition's won or lost.
  Galloping waves urge on the endless night,
  Falling dew hurries the brief dawn.
  --From Song of the Underworld (Tai k'ao-li hsing) by Pao Chao (414-66)

The wind in the wu-t'ung startles the heart, a lusty man despairs;
Spinners in the fading lamplight cry chill silk.
Who will study a bamboo book still green
And forbid the grubs to bore their powdery holes?
This night's thoughts will surely stretch my guts straight:
Cold in the rain a sweet phantom comes to console the writer.
By the autumn tombs a ghost chants the poem of Pao Chao.
My angry blood for a thousand years will be emeralds under the earth!"

--Li Ho, op cit


Poshlost.


Estuary English.


Possum's forecast. (via Silliman)