Rapt here in the quarry , under a wide
straw hat, you
sit still and with a pen
not yet quite released
into perfect freedom,
endeavor
to
fix
upon your sheet of paper
the same stolen abstractions
I have just lost
from mine.
CHRISTOPHER MIDDLETON
Aladag Mountain Sketches
1
The old Turk joined his two sheep near sundown,
Sat on a tree root, spoke now and then:
Tukurruk tukurruk.
The sheep spoke back,
Not as sheep to sheep but
tukurruk tukurruk,
The right way for a sheep to speak to a man.
2
. All day since dawn in the blazing sun
And hauling what he has to haul,
Logs and apricots, hay and men,
Serene when he drinks, happy trotting,
The donkey brays a bit near nightfall.
When he brays, hold on to your hat,
His heaven is near, might sweep you in.
