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- Author: Aiye-Ko Ooto
- Publisher: Lulu.com
- ISBN-10: 0359121411
- ISBN-13: 9780359121410
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.5 cm, softcover
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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Description
Two Sparrows, a farthing-anthology(50). AiyeKo-ooto, let's pick straws. Farthing is 4 parts of an old penny. Which buys little except laborer's day wage, in imperial dark days when monarchs took the score. It's the least possible amount to pay for anyone, thing or thought. Hence colloquial expression -"I don't give a farthing...blah" The poems are letters to departed lovers. Obviously laced in disparaging thoughts (towards who left one behind); to love and lovers. Though while accepting the loss and, admitting some blame, remembering what they had; couldn't be excluded. If you've neither experienced; conflict with a lover or had one snatched from you by death, then count yourself lucky. For the rest of us lived in the straits. Often, unsure, which lakes to fish. We felt the worth of a farthing, like ewes taken by wolves, hanging on the dials, in hallowing midday silence while we lived on the fools' ship of love. "I sent out my bird to a field of olives green, it took flight, soaring high, but never returns"
EXTRA 10 % discount with code: EXTRA
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- Author: Aiye-Ko Ooto
- Publisher: Lulu.com
- ISBN-10: 0359121411
- ISBN-13: 9780359121410
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.5 cm, softcover
- Language: English English
Two Sparrows, a farthing-anthology(50). AiyeKo-ooto, let's pick straws. Farthing is 4 parts of an old penny. Which buys little except laborer's day wage, in imperial dark days when monarchs took the score. It's the least possible amount to pay for anyone, thing or thought. Hence colloquial expression -"I don't give a farthing...blah" The poems are letters to departed lovers. Obviously laced in disparaging thoughts (towards who left one behind); to love and lovers. Though while accepting the loss and, admitting some blame, remembering what they had; couldn't be excluded. If you've neither experienced; conflict with a lover or had one snatched from you by death, then count yourself lucky. For the rest of us lived in the straits. Often, unsure, which lakes to fish. We felt the worth of a farthing, like ewes taken by wolves, hanging on the dials, in hallowing midday silence while we lived on the fools' ship of love. "I sent out my bird to a field of olives green, it took flight, soaring high, but never returns"
Reviews