By Dunya Mikhail
Translated by Elizabeth Winslow
The martyr couldn't believe his eyes
when his tomb was bombed
as he braided a garland for his beloved—
a red garland,
yet...on the way to heaven ...
it turned white.
He bent toward the water with a small rainbow clutched in his hand.
In this way he makes music.
He lifts is hands to the clouds and braids her tears into a flower.
In this way he sings.
A wave breaking outside the sea.
In this way I go on.
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You're getting another short entry tonight because I got to spend the whole day with Dementordelta, and we slept late because we were recovering from all our Oscar squee, and spent all the time before breakfast scouring the internet for articles and photos and stuff (watch the Oprah clip in which Colin and Geoffrey talk about their crushes on each other). Then we watched Quills and spent the entire time hyperventilating, between Geoffrey being naked and begging Joaquin Phoenix to bugger him (we appreciated how political the movie was, too, but I don't want to be disingenuous and pretend that our near-asphyxiation didn't have to do with Geoffrey being a perv. Then we went to see The King's Speech for -- is this the sixth time? -- shut up, it's the Best Picture and therefore worthy of another watching.
Then, since she hadn't seen it, we watched St. Trinian's, plus the bloopers because Colin popping Rupert Everett's boobs while Rupert is trying to kiss him is hilarious, and after that, because we had had such a difficult afternoon sitting and watching movies, we put on Mamma Mia. Okay, fine, now you can tell me how much I suck -- it won't make a dent in my mood anyway. We ate croissants that Delta brought and hummus and chocolate covered pretzels and other health foods. When, tragically, she ultimately had to go home, I consoled myself by eating Paul's eggplant parmesan for dinner and watching Chicago Code and Harry's Law, because less than 10 hours a day in front of the television does not a complete slacker make. (Colbert just expressed displeasure that The King's Speech won best picture considering that they didn't even cure the king: at the end, he still had that debilitating English accent.) Tomorrow, back to the real world! Have some photos from the orchid display at Longwood Gardens:
Happy March!
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