THE SKY
The sky, broad like a basket for gathering dung,
above the gathered people,
and when the people are singing,
the great sky is calm.
Poetry
- THE MOON RISES OVER AN OLD TEMPLE When the moon rises over an old temple, its fleeting rays gild the ancient finials. The wind grieves across the holes of the bamboo flute, brings the sadness...
- WRITTEN ON THE CEILING Fire swords conquer enemies Fine brushes win hearts. My blade has let history be, Instead I have seized my brush.
- Attended the 22nd Genoa International Poetry Festival G.Mend-Ooyo attended the 22nd Genoa International Poetry Festival, held between the 10th to 19th of June 2016, in Genova, Italy. On 18 June, he rea...
- Audio Recording of “The Swallows” Returning from afar, swallows in flocks Embrace the tales of the gentle, tranquil steppe. The waters of eternity were spilt into the yellow steppe’s pal...
- LETTER WRITTEN FROM THE WILD STEPPE If you say you’d understand Mongolia’s wild steppe, if you say you’d look upon someone else, we’ll draw up the cart outside a nomad&rs...
- THE WAY OF THE WORLD - 2 He always lies in wait for his next bloodthirsty opponent The upcoming battle stalks him everywhere Though they emerge with their lives, they don’t fi...
- THE SONG The song upon your lips is upon the hills, the song upon your lips encompasses the world.
- THE SKY The sky, broad like a basket for gathering dung, above the gathered people, and when the people are singing, the great sky is calm.
- ALL SHINING MOMENTS - 3 I shall blaze like a candle in the isolation of the mind within. I shall be sky blue in the faraway legends of our wild eastern steppe. I shall wash in the de...
- THE CONNECTIONS Today I am a thousand riddles, ten thousand connections, Like an iceberg, most of which is hidden in the ocean, So my thoughts are hidden deep within my heart...