Script synopsis has been approved, so at least that's something to feel good about today. Did some Spanish as well. Discovered that Valentine is also actually a pretty nice show. Clichéd as hell, but hey, I don't always need my TV shows to be groundbreaking. Anyway, tonight I just wanted to say that friendship can be so tiring sometimes. Odds are if you're someone I know and reading this, I'm not actually talking about ours, so set your mind at ease. I think I'm about ready for summer to be over, never mind that it means heading back to abysmal English weather. Anyway, have started reading Edward Hirsch's Poet's Choice. After all, there's (almost) nothing quite so reliable as a book. A book asks little more than to be read, and even that request is easily denied. This book is good stuff though, simply because Hirsch's enthusiasm and passion for his chosen subject shines through, and it is hard not to be moved by some of the poems he has chosen to look at in his book, however briefly. So I think I'm just going to end off with one of the most beautiful poems I've read in a long while. Here's Blaga Dimitrova's 'Ars Poetica', translated by Ludmilla G. Popova-Wightman:
Write each of your poems
as if it were your last.
In this century, saturated with strontium,
charged with terrorism,
flying with supersonic speed,
death comes with terrifying suddenness.
Send each of your words
like a last letter before execution,
a call carved on a prison wall.
You have no right to lie,
no right to play pretty little games.
You simply won't have time
to correct your mistakes.
Write each of your poems,
with blood - as if it were your last.