Today's horoscope says romance

Romance is in the air today, L.B. Take that special woman in your life and do something completely different. Get last-minute tickets to a rock concert, or arrange to spend the day canoeing. Do something to shake up your relationship a bit. It is at risk of becoming a bit stale. If there is no one special in your life right now, call a good friend to see if he can set you up with someone. This is no time to be alone!

No, this does not feel like a romantic day at all. I'm afraid the computer that put this horoscope together is even more wrong than usual.

A. That special woman in my life - if I may call her that - would definitely not be thrilled by a last-minute rock concert. She prefers classical or Russian. And canoeing is out. Did that computer take into account the weather hereabouts? This is more the time for ice skating than water sports.

B. Yes, things are a bit stale in that they're not moving at all. Haven't been much in over a year. In fact, calling it a relationship at all would be exaggerating. Even though there are relationships of all kinds. This is definitely one of all kinds.

C. I wouldn't know which friend to call for that.

D. I completely agree - this ain't no time to be alone. Nobody should be. Not even a recluse* such as I.

* I've been called that by my dear ex-wife numerous times (always feeling that I'd been completely misunderstood in 19 years of marriage). And a British friend recently called himself that and seemed to imply the same for me. The truth: I'm just like anybody else, need time with others and time by myself.

Len "Temporarily Recluded" Blumfeld

The weather situation

cannot be called extreme by any means (compared to Kazakhstan, for example, where they have -40 °C, I've heard), but we have had one of the biggest snow falls in this city I can remember, and it feels extremely cold even though it's only slightly below freezing.

I certainly would wish for more induration on my part.

Time to go out, do some dutiful shoveling and perhaps take a picture.*

A not so extreme contribution for Sunday Scribblings and a not so poetic one for One Single Impression.

* Shoveling completed, picture taken, picture added.

अब तुम इतने दूर हो

अ. ब. के लिये


अब तुम इतने दूर हो
मेरी मन की आंखों से दिखते नहीं


मेरा मन मुड़ चुका है
तुम्हें अंदर आने नहीं देगा


बचा है तो सिर्फ़,
कुछ खोने का एहसास

– Johannes Beilharz

Translated by Richa Dubey

Triptych

Drain

Yes, dear, I missed the drain.
Now there’s a mess in the kitchen.

Epic

You never wrote that epic
you were going to write, dear.

Nibble

Yes, but I’ve taken a few nibbles
of life. Perhaps that’s all
it’s about. Less epic than
planned, for sure,
but not entirely down the drain.

– Leonard “He Who Nibbles and Drains” Blumfeld

Written to include Drain, Epic and Nibble from 3WW.

Oedipal fib

Caught
up
with my-
self after
all: my mother is the
one I’m seeking in all women.

– Leonard “Finally Sly” Blumfeld (© 2010)

Note: There appears to be some truth to this – generally, the women that appeal to me are similar to my mother, usually in several respects: difficult, negative, depressive, coy, vain, capricious, gifted, always late. You may get a vague picture. I feel trapped.

For the new year / another border crossed

La frontera

Hoy vuelvo a la frontera
Otra vez he de atravesar
Es el viento que me manda
Que me empuja a la frontera
Y que borra el camino
Que detrás desaparece
Que detrás desaparece

Me arrastro bajo el cielo
Y las nubes del invierno
Es el viento que las manda
Y no hay nadie que las pare
A veces combate despiadado
A veces baile
Y a veces…nada
A veces baile
Y a veces…nada

Hoy cruzo la frontera
Bajo el cielo
Bajo el cielo
Es el viento que me manda
Bajo el cielo de acero
Soy el punto negro que anda
A las orillas de la suerte
A las orillas de la suerte

(Lhasa de Sela, from the album The Living Road, 2004)

The border

Today I’m returning to the border
I have to cross once again
It’s the wind that’s sending me
That’s pushing me to the border
And effacing the road
That disappears behind me
That disappears behind me

I wear on underneath the sky
And the winter clouds
It’s the wind that’s calling them
And there’s no-one to stop them
Sometimes it battles mercilessly
Sometimes it dances
And sometimes...nothing
Sometimes it dances
And sometimes...nothing

Today I’m crossing the border
Underneath the sky
Underneath the sky
The wind is telling me to do it
Under the steely sky
I’m the black dot that’s walking
Towards the shores of fate
Towards the shores of fate

(English translation by Johannes Beilharz)

Another border crossed, a new leaf turned for Sunday Scribblings.

More song lyrics

Much belated note
As I found out years later, Lhasa de Sela had passed away on January 1, 2010 at the age of 37, about one month before I published this translation here.

Art or ...

horror?

Posted for ShutterDay ('The horror, the horror').

Do I call it dare?

What have I dared this year?

Like a trapeze artist without a backup net, I dared to break off a relationship with a woman who was in love with me (at least she told me so, and it looked like it to me). Why? I did not love her the same way. I was in love with her briefly, but the initial infatuation faded within a few weeks, to be replaced by thoughts of the woman I was really in love with, had loved for close to a year and had attempted to forget by starting a relationship with another.

Alas, my beloved one told me in very clear words that she did not reciprocate (on one occasion) and that she saw no future for us (on another occasion).

Still, I dared to follow my heart and received, in the course of this year, ups and downs galore, a few days of happiness with my beloved and other days of piercing pain.

All in all I often feel like I'm living in two worlds (similar to J. Nash in A Beautiful Mind) that are both cohesive in themselves ... but of which only one is real. Yes, you guessed it, it's the one with the piercing pain.

Hopefully it's all good for something. Some learning experience perhaps.

Daring or idiocy? That is the question.

- Leonard "Truth or Dare" Blumfeld

Written upon inspiration by Sunday Scribblings. Many of the ups and downs mentioned are recorded in this blog in more or less subtly encrypted form.

Bleak house

Bleak house,
mean hiccup,
queer lantern.

Bleak approach,
looming hiccup,
queer sax.

Bleak landing,
dazed hiccup,
queer knack.

– Leonard "García" Blumfeld

Written to involve Bleak, Hiccup and Queer from 3WW in various. somewhat García Lorcaesque ways.

Such an intense exchange of glances

and now I wonder about sustainability!

Am I the ultimate sentimental myth maker I sometimes think I am? (Based on the fact that I see whole landscapes where others merely perceive a wall.)

Nevertheless: my love looks stunning today – I'm awed and humbled that such beauty exists.

– Leonard "Mythologist" Blumfeld