Monthly Archives: February 2020

Poem of the day

by Robert Huntington | Leave a comment

Dear Heart, Why Will You Use Me So?
by James Joyce (1882-1941)

Dear heart, why will you use me so?
      Dear eyes that gently me upbraid,
Still are you beautiful — but O,
      How is your beauty raimented!

Through the clear mirror of your eyes,
      Through the soft cry of kiss to kiss,
Desolate winds assail with cries
      The shadowy garden where love is.

And soon shall love dissolved be
      When over us the wild winds blow —
But you, dear love, too dear to me,
      Alas! why will you use me so?

Views: 34

Appeals court spanks BIA, Justice Dept.

by Robert Huntington | Leave a comment

A wonderful opinion. Here is Bloomberg’s piece and here is the opinion itself.

Some nice quotes: “What happened next beggars belief. The Board of Immigration Appeals wrote, on the basis of a footnote in a letter the Attorney General issued after our opinion, that our decision is incorrect. …

“We have never before encountered defiance of a remand order,and we hope never to see it again. Members of the Board must count themselves lucky that Baez-Sanchez has not asked us to hold them in contempt, with all the consequences that possibility entails.

“The Board seemed to think that we had issued anadvisory opinion, and that faced with a conflict between our views and those of the Attorney General it should follow the latter. Yet it should not be necessary to remind the Board, all of whose members are lawyers, that the ‘judicial Power’ under Article III of the Constitution is one to make conclusive decisions, not subject to disapproval or revision by another branch of government.”

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Poem of the day

by Robert Huntington | Leave a comment

The Negro Speaks of Rivers
by Langston Hughes (1902-1849)

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
   flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
   went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy
   bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Views: 33