The quarantine haiku

 

Cat’s going crazy
from being cooped up. So am 
I – in inner ways.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2022)

Note
My own personal quarantine is over, thank God. However, all the restrictions still apply – mask, green pass, uncertainty, rules that keep changing at the drop of a hat without much rhyme or reason. Will this ever be over?

The Tender Bar

 

The Tender Bar (2021, directed by George Clooney, starring Ben Affleck, Daniel Ranieri, Tye Sheridan, Lily Rabe, Christopher Lloyd)

Whatever rode George Clooney - whom I generally respect both as a director and an actor - to direct and produce this seemingly endless bore of a movie?

Nothing about it feels original or genuine - it comes off as a refurbished parts store. When you enter, you know you've seen all the parts (people, situations, locations) somewhere before, many times, in a variety of places and constellations from Hollywood or TV.

A collection of stereotypes and a waste of acting talent (it's not like Affleck etc. don't perform well).

I did not last through to the end. Maybe I've seen too many movies. But go ahead and see for yourself.

The corona haiku

 

Life dictated by 

fever and saturation 

readings – sheer terror.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2022)

Note
Some reality from my battle with the virus. A bloody oxygen reading of less than 90%, so the doctors say, means you should be hospitalized.

I’m doing nearly nothing

Ab Har Ho Bhola Nahin Bane - Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur

Fourth day of dreamily

listening to Mallikarjun Mansur -

always the same songs.

Nothing much is happening – 

I’m not listening attentively.

The music is flowing into me.

It feels like a conspicuous momentary

constellation – Mallikarjun Mansur singing

and me doing the equivalent of happy nothing.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2022)

Labordeta - Aragón

José Antonio Labordeta

Aragón

   

Polvo, niebla, viento y sol,

Donde hay agua una huerta.

Al Norte los Pirineos:

Esta tierra es Aragón.

Al Norte los Pirineos

Al Sur la tierra callada.

Pasa el Ebro por el centro

Con su soledad a la espalda.

Dicen que hay tierras al Este

Donde se trabaja y pagan.

Hacia el Oeste el Moncayo

Como un Dios que ya no ampara.

Desde tiempos a esta parte

Vamos camino de nada.

Vamos a ver cómo el Ebro

Con su soledad se marcha.

Y con él van en compaña

Las gentes de estas vaguadas,

De estos valles, de esta sierra,

De estas huertas arruinadas.

Polvo, niebla, viento y sol,

Donde hay agua una huerta.

Al Norte los Pirineos:

Esta tierra es Aragón.

**********

Aragon

   

Dust, fog, wind and sun,

Where there is water an orchard.

To the North the Pyrenees:

This land is Aragon.

To the North the Pyrenees

To the South the quiet land.

The Ebro flows through the center

With its solitude at its back.

They say there are lands to the East

Where there’s work and they pay.

To the West the Moncayo

Like a God that no longer protects.

Since time immemorial

We are on our way to nothing.

Watching the Ebro

Carry away its loneliness.

And with it go in company

The people of these meadows,

Of these valleys, these mountains,

These ruined orchards.

Dust, fog, wind and sun,

Where there is water an orchard.

To the North the Pyrenees:

This land is Aragon.

English translation by Johannes Beilharz.