By Li Bai
Translated by Arthur Waley
The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.
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I got to spend Monday with Cheryl, who came up to see Spider-Man: Homecoming with me, which was also a good excuse to have lunch at the mall (she had Indian, I had Mediterranean) and do a bit of window shopping before the movie, which holds up extremely well on a second viewing. Then we came back to my house and watched Churchill, which is one of the recent spate of sad elderly statesman portraits -- in this case not because of his lost daughter or depression but a sort of PTSD from the first World War. It's well acted and I loved James Purefoy's George VI.
We took a walk before Cheryl went home and saw several bunnies, including the baby around the corner. After she left, Paul and I had barbecued chick'n while waiting for Adam to get home and watched some baseball -- even the Orioles managed not to lose on Monday! -- before Will, the utter-crack young Shakespeare faux biography which wants to be A Knight's Tale but mostly comes across as a mediocre Renfaire sketch. Tomorrow I must watch some Martin Landau. Here are some more photos of the lotus flowers blooming at Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens:
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