by Omar Khayyam translated by Edward Fitzgerald XXI. And this delightful Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River’s Lip on which we lean – Ah, lean upon lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XXII. Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears To-day of past Regrets and future FearsContinue reading “Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam XXI-XL”
Category Archives: My blog
Time to take flight to the Lost Lands
Once I had got my breath back, following the phone call which set me on a new path, I realised I had a lot to do and just four weeks to get it done. I got the call on Friday, 8 September and I was due to start on Monday, 9 October. In between IContinue reading “Time to take flight to the Lost Lands”
Looking ahead the only way is Essex
Despite finding my desire to travel to foreign lands effectively blocked, I still had itchy feet and wanted to break out of my little bubble and see, at least, a new part of this country we call the United Kingdom. Despite the myth that all journalists yearned to work on Fleet Street (a real streetContinue reading “Looking ahead the only way is Essex”
Not innocent but certainly naive
Looking back on my life I realise how naive I really was aged 22. I do mean naive because I certainly was not an innocent. My naivety was more a lack of information on issues that maybe I should have been more aware of. I had a lucky escape over South Africa because if IContinue reading “Not innocent but certainly naive”
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
by Omar Khayyam 1048-1131 trans. by Edward Fitzgerald 1859 I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light. II. Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the SkyContinue reading “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”
Never mind the boots – these feet were made for walking
I have said before that my musical tastes are eclectic – they range from Donovan to Debussy and Beautiful South to Beethoven. In my teens I enjoyed the hits of the day and believe the 60s was one of the best decades ever for young people. It did not stop me also enjoying the soundsContinue reading “Never mind the boots – these feet were made for walking”
The Travelling Post Office
by Banjo Paterson 1864-1941 The roving breezes come and go, the reed-beds sweep and sway, The sleepy river murmers low, and loiters on its way, It is the land of lots o’ time along the Castlereagh. The old man’s son had left the farm, he found it full and slow, He drifted to the greatContinue reading “The Travelling Post Office”
Ten years between tasty tipples
I don’t drink much alcohol these days, not that I was an inveterate boozer getting plastered every night even in my heyday. I do know I never drank just for the sake of drinking, or to keep up with the crowd. I also did not drink just anything on the basis that it was alcoholic.Continue reading “Ten years between tasty tipples”
Broken Love
by William Blake (1757-1827) My Spectre around me night and day Like a wild beast guards my way; My Emanation far within Weeps incessantly for my sin. ‘A fathomless and boundless deep, There we wander, there we weep; On the hungry craving wind My Spectre follows thee behind. ‘He scents thy footsteps in the snowContinue reading “Broken Love”
Frolics and firkins at farming fete
Being a journalist does not always mean being constantly on the lookout for hard news stories (although the best reporters have a subconscious awareness for news even when they’re not looking for it). There are times when you can relax, such as an evening at the theatre. There are also annual events, and for weeklyContinue reading “Frolics and firkins at farming fete”
Robin's Nest 