Poets will kill us with perfection - we should just give up now.

The Underground

There we were in the vaulted tunnel running,
You in your going-away coat speeding ahead
And me, me then like a fleet god gaining
Upon you before you turned to a reed

Or some new white flower japped with crimson
As the coat flapped wild and button after button
Sprang off and fell in a trail
Between the Underground and the Albert Hall.

Honeymooning, moonlighting, late for the Proms,
Our echoes die in that corridor and now
I come as Hansel came on the moonlit stones
Retracing the path back, lifting the buttons

To end up in a draughty lamplit station
After the trains have gone, the wet track
Bared and tense as I am, all attention
For your step following and damned if I look back.

- Seamus Heaney

My translation of a Russian poem

Love

A tickling of lips and the cool nip of teeth
fire wanders in the shadows of our bodies,
sweat between breasts…and this is love?
And this is what you so wanted?

Yes! Passion such that my eyes darken!
But night passes light as a bird…
and I thought that love was a wine
on which I could be forever drunk.

Dmitry Kedrin - translated by me.

How do you spend your Wednesday nights? (And if you say doing it rather than writing about it I don't want to hear it!)

This might just be the worst book ever written (but maybe also the best)

http://pixiestixkidspix.wordpress.com/awesome-resources-for-reading-and-kid-lit/latawnya-the-naughty-horse-learns-to-say-no-to-drugs/

A cautionary tale about African American horses who get drugs and alcohol from Caucasian horses. This book is marketed towards children but deals with terrifying issues that will make it relevant for adult readers such as horses playing drinking games, horses overdosing, and horse-to-horse kissing.
Readers who enjoy this book may also like: The House That Crack Built, Sometimes Mommy Gets Angry and Who Cares About Disabled People?