My practice of writing Haiku on Fridays has inspired me to attempt another form of poetry, the sestina, which has fascinated me for years. I have attempted more than once to complete one, but have never been satisfied with the results. Now I’m ready to try again. My favorite (although it doesn’t have the 3 line envoy stanza) is “Here in Kathmandu” by Donald Justice:

We have climbed the mountain.
There’s nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,

As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.

It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absence of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!

Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?

It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
However, once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.

Meanwhile it is not easy here in Kathmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.

(the accompanying photo is the Chobar Gorge in the Kathmandu Valley)