山木自寇也，
膏火自煎也。
桂可食，故伐之；
漆可用，故割之。
人皆知有用之用，
而莫知無用之用也。
Mountain trees self-destruct,
Lamp tallow self-immolates.
Cinnamon is edible, so it is cleaved;
Varnish is useful, so it is cut.
All men know the advantage of being useful,
but none know the advantage of being useless.
— 莊子 [Zhuang Zi], Zhuang Zi, “Transactions in the World of Men” (“人間世”).
Tag - poetry
Janet picks up her fortune cookie,
Then puts it down, turns to her friend:
“Don’t bank too much on youth. Your rookie
Season is drawing to an end.
John, things we would – when young – not think of,
Start to make sense when, on the brink of
Thirtydom, we pause to scan
What salves and salads cannot ban,
The earliest furrows on our faces,
The loneliness within our souls,
Our febrile clawing for mean goals,
Our programmed cockfights and rat races,
Our dreary dignity, false pride,
And hearts stored in formaldehyde— Vikram Seth, The Golden Gate
No worries – no anxiety. Just reading a very good book and felt those were awesome lines.
NOTE: I was contemplating publishing this in the school newsletter, but I decided this was the better platform.
The poem stems from something I’ve been thinking about for a while, because I’ve wanted to find a way to thank my students and wish them well.
I started writing the poem last week in the midst of marking and all that jazz, but I’ve decided that the poem is done and it’s time to put it up.
Last but not least, “piglet” and other porcine-related words are figurative and not literal, and is in no way meant to demean or denigrate – I thought I had better make this clear, just in case, and I apologise if I inadvertently offend anyone.
—
Piglet Race
By Laremy Lee
For all my piglet children.
I see you all bounding toward me
with the innocence of bacon,
the look in your eyes squealing:
in another life, I could’ve been char siew.
Your heads held up in earnest,
your snouts pointed to the sky,
you radiate pink with promise and youth
as you race toward the future, on a path
you’ve often been prodded along.
Remember, though, before I let you go:
life must be as easy as a piglet race
but not as simple as one.
Fly like the wind. Leap
as high as you can, over
hurdles set out like nets.
Look cute while doing so.
But wait for fellow piglets if
they pause. Help them if they falter.
We are as much competitors
as we are comrades-in-trotters.
Fortunately (or unfortunately),
like Fleance, you will soon flee
leaving me behind as Time flies
to pick my pocket once again,
as it did me when I was a piglet like you;
as it will you when you are a boar like me.
Another set of piglets will round the bend,
bounding toward me with all their might,
even going so far as to – who knows? –
one day, also bound toward you,
till your heart beams and your smile says,
“That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”