From the second canto of Kavikanthabharanam by Kshemendra
With his own
eyes a poet
observes the shape of a leaf.
He knows how to make
people laugh
and studies the nature of each living thing.
The features of ocean and mountain,
the movement of sun, moon and stars.
His thoughts turn with the seasons.
He travels among different people
learning their landscapes,
learning their languages.
as quoted in The Cane Groves of Narmada River
Poem by Thomas Hardy (1840 – 1928)
Photo by Me
Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon’s meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry
With the torn troubled form I know as thine,
That profile, placid as a brow divine,
With continents of moil and misery?And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven’s high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,
Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,
Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?
The BBC reports that the issues are related to financial fraud:
Lou Pearlman, the man behind boy bands ‘N Sync and the Backstreet Boys, is set to plead guilty to a $300m (£152m) fraud scheme, prosecutors have said.
[…]
The Backstreet Boys and ‘N Sync eventually sued him, claiming he was siphoning large amounts of money from them. The cases were later settled, but the terms were not disclosed.
Frankly I think a case could be made for lyric and tone fraud as well, but maybe it was not entirely Pearlman’s fault:
Keepin it inside, it’s killing me
Cause all I ever wanted comes right down to you (to you)
I wish that I could find the words to say
Baby I would tell you, every time you leave
I’m inconsolable
Um, brokenhearted?
I like this analysis by Margaret Fuller:
There are two modes of criticism. One which … crushes to earth without mercy all the humble buds of Phantasy, all the plants that, though green and fruitful, are also a prey to insects or have suffered by drouth. It weeds well the garden, and cannot believe the weed in its native soil may be a pretty, graceful plant.
There is another mode which enters into the natural history of every thing that breathes and lives, which believes no impulse to be entirely in vain, which scrutinizes circumstances, motive and object before it condemns, and believes there is a beauty in natural form, if its law and purpose be understood.
Wikipedia says this is from “Poets of the People” in Art, Literature and the Drama (1858). Although she says criticism is the mode, I see security.