A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, there was an old boy who wanted to write poetry. He had read some of the greats like Master Whitman, Mistress Dickenson, and Master Frost, and even had written some lines himself. But he knew not the art of the Jedi Poets. And so he joined a workshop by a river, led by a great disciple of that Good Knight Frost, and he became a Poet Padawan and was initiated into the laser craft of rhyme and the acrobatic skills of meter. Slowly with time, he learned to turn an iambic pentameter with the better of them. And although he felt unfinished, he knew he needed to undergo further trials alone, away from the unquestionable talent but too influencing versifiers. And so he went to clash in the First War of the Sphere.
(to be continued)
A PASSING MOMENT
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This is my rather loose translation of a hokku by Ōemaru, who lived into
the first five years of the 19th century. For a moment,Autumn seen on the
hillsAt ...
9 hours ago
1 comment:
I can't wait to hear the part where he turns to the Dark Side.
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