update from sparkleup

writing/seasons/notes.md

@@ -271,3 +271,31 @@ We take this evening's cool
 '''
 
 Some underlines in *19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei* by Eliot Weinberger, 2016, New Directions Publishing Corporation.
+
+> Great poetry lives in a state of perpetual transformation, perpetual translation: the poem dies when it has no place to go.
+
+p.3
+
+> In its way a spiritual exercise, translation is dependent on the dissolution of the translator's ego: an absolute humility toward the text.
+
+p.20
+
+> As such, every reading of every poem, regardless of language, is an act of translation: translation into the reader's intellectual and emotional life. As no individual reader remains the same, each reading becomes a different --- not merely another --- reading. The same poem cannot be read twice.
+>
+> [...] the poem continues in a state of restless change.
+
+"To Autumn" verse 1 by Keats
+
+'''
+Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
+    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
+Conspiring with him how to load and bless
+    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
+To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
+    And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
+        To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
+    With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
+And still more, later flowers for the bees,
+Until they think warm days will never cease,
+        For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
+'''