April 12th, 2006

angry - books

"Temporary problem accessing your mailbox."

*hates on Yahoo!Mail*

Sigh. At least I was mostly caught up on LJ comments. *changes e-mail notification address temporarily*

We have received your Temporary Access Problem report. This is typically
a transient error message. Clicking on the refresh button in your
browser or signing out and back into your account will often resolve the

If the problem continues, please reply to this email.


Original Message Follows:


Error Message: Temporary Problem Acessing your Account

Email Client: Yahoo! Mail via the Web

Type your feedback here:
I was asked to re-login to Yahoo!Mail
because my account had been logged in
for 24 hours, but when I tried to, I got
a "Temporary problem accessing your
mailbox" message. I tried refreshing
the page and also logging out and
re-logging in (in 2 different web
browsers) as suggested and still got the
same error message.

(What's really bizarre is that the problem seems to have resolved itself as I just pulled up mail.yahoo.com, just so I could for sure say "Yes, it doesn't work," and I'm happily logged in.)

[Passover begins]

I Would Like to Describe
-Zbigniew Herbert

I would like to describe the simplest emotion
joy or sadness
but not as others do
reaching for shafts of rain or sun

I would like to describe a light
which is being born in me
but I know it does not resemble
any star
for it is not so bright
not so pure
and is uncertain

I would like to describe courage
without dragging behind me a dusty lion
and also anxiety
without shaking a glass full of water

to put it another way
I would give all metaphors
in return for one word
drawn out of my breast like a rib
for one word
contained within the boundaries
of my skin

but apparently this is not possible

and just to say -- I love
I run around like mad
picking up handfuls of birds
and my tenderness
which after all is not made of water
asks the water for a face

and anger
different from fire
borrows from it
a loquacious tongue

so is blurred
so is blurred
in me
what white-haired gentleman
separated once and for all
and said
this in the subject
this is the object

we fall asleep
with one hand under our head
and with the other in a mound of planets

our feet abandon us
and taste the earth
with their tiny roots
which next morning
we tear out painfully

from greatpoets