Saint Jerome, patron saint of translators, by Bellini
A Prayer for My Daughter by W. B. Yeats
(Spanish translation by James Mansfield Nichols)
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/14635/a-prayer-for-my-daughter
A Prayer for My Daughter (5)
In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift, but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful.
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty’s very self, has charm made wise;
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
Una Oración para mi Hija (5)
Quisiera que ella aprenda sobre todo la cortesía;
Los corazones no son regalados sino ganados
Por aquéllas que no sean del todo bellas.
A muchos que han hecho el tonto
Por la belleza en sí, la gracia ha hecho sabio.
Y tanto pobre hay que ha recorrido mundo,
Sentido amor y pensado que era amado,
Que de una bondad alegre no puede quitar la mirada.
[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]
EthicalDative 
Ear Fatigue Syndrome and Recovery
Cello Player.
The wireless speakers strewn about The Shed burble from their niches most of the day.
Some days I think I’ve divined the secret of much jazz that I listen to: Play only the notes that are not hummable. I say “listen” with temerity because I’m not always paying attention to the sounds, but they’re there.
I know it’s the whining of a music sissy on my part to pine occasionally for a predictable interval, or a chord that I could finger if I wanted to, but it reflects a certain saturation point from which I must recover.
That point slips up on me, and usually comes after several hours of play from my Pandora radio station based on, say, John Abercrombie, or Tom Harrell, or Christian Scott.
When I realize I’ve crossed the line into improvisation-induced irritability, I usually fall back on a playlist of folk or pop tunes that I can pay little attention to until my ears recharge and jazz-love returns.
The folk and pop lists don’t include just songs I’ve heard a lot; but, even in the unfamiliar ones, when a musical phrase starts I can usually finish or at least add to it predictively. Is that what “tuneful” means? Is there such a word?
If there were a heaven, mine would consist of a gathering of friendly, articulate experts in various fields — in this case music — whose brains I could pick to repair the yawning gaps in my understanding of virtually everything.
[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]