How goes the night? For heavy morning sleep
Ill suits the king who men would loyal keep.
The courtyard, ruddy with the torch's light,
Proclaims unspent the deepest hour of night.
Already near the gate my lords appear;
Their tinkling bells salute my wakeful ear.

How goes the night? I may not slumber on.
Although not yet the night is wholly gone,
The paling torch-light in the court below
Gives token that the hours swift-footed go.
Already at the gate my lords appear;
Their tinkling bells with measured sound draw near.

How goes the night? I may not slumber now.
The darkness smiles with morning on its brow.
The courtyard torch no more gives forth its ray,
But heralds with its smoke the coming day.
My princes pass the gate, and gather there;
I see their banners floating in the air.


About Confucius


Confucius (/kənˈfjuːʃəs/; September 28, 551 – 479 BC)\[2\]\[3\] was a Chinese teacher, editor, politician, and philosopher of the Spring and Autumn period of Chinese history. The philosophy of Confucius emphasized personal and governmental morality, correctness of social relationships, justice and sincerity. His followers competed successfully with many other schools during the Hundred Schools of Thought era only to be suppressed in favor of the Legalists during the Qin Dynasty. Following the victory of Han over Chu after the collapse of Qin, Confucius's thoughts received official sanction and were further developed into a system known as Confucianism. Confucius is traditionally credited... Read more...

Poet of the day

Born in 1714 in Halesowen (now Worcestershire) England living at the family home 'The Leasowes'. Halesowen, which, up to the early years of the 18th century was in part of Shropshire. He was educated at Solihull Grammar School, where he met and became firm friends with the future poet Richard...
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Poem of the day


Jeg saae kun tilbage. Mig Livets Lyst bortklang;
Da toned mig i Sjælen saa trøstelig en Sang;
See frem, men ei tilbage! Hvad Hjertet attraaer,
Maaskee dog engang under Solen du naaer.

Lad Bølger bortrulle! lad Løvet flagre hen!
Rask bruser dog Strømmen, frisk Skoven staaer...
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