Diary of Dan

Sunday, May 15, 2005


This oppressive summer heat has suppressed my creative juices, so I'll hand over the mic to the Master:

My flowers were like milk and honey and wine; I bound them
into a posy with a golden ribbon, but they escaped my watchful care and fled
away and only the ribbon remains.

My songs were like milk and honey and wine, they were
held in the rhythm of my beating heart, but they spread their wings and fled
away, the darlings of the idle hours, and my heart beats in silence.

The beauty I loved was like milk and honey and wine, her
lips like the rose of the dawn, her eyes bee-black. I kept my heart silent lest
it should startle her, but she eluded me like my flowers and like my songs, and
my love remains alone.

~ Ravindranath Tagore

Thursday, May 05, 2005


It's a nice date today!