poetry

why cling to…

We live

in a tide-swept inlet,

floating, flung.

In such a world, why cling to

collections of poems?

~Izumi Shikibu, (J Hirshfield & M Aratani, The Ink Dark Moon)
dandelionproject112817web

previously posted on November, 2017

each at its own hour

The grass does not refuse
To flourish in the spring wind;
The leaves are not angry
At falling through the autumn sky.
Who with whip or spur
Can urge the feet of Time?
The things of the world flourish and decay,
Each at its own hour. ~LiPo

Trans: Arthur Waley, The Poet Li Po II. 26. The Sun Gutenberg.org

“The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflections on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep crease scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.” ~Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

the wandering one has forgotten home

On and on, always on and on
Away from you, parted by a life-parting. 
Going from one another ten thousand “li,”
Each in a different corner of the World.
The way between is difficult and long,
Face to face how shall we meet again?
The Tartar horse prefers the North wind,
The bird from Yüeh nests on the Southern branch.
Since we parted the time is already long,
Daily my clothes hang looser round my waist.
Floating clouds obscure the white sun,
The wandering one has quite forgotten home.
Thinking of you has made me suddenly old,
The months and years swiftly draw to their close.
I’ll put you out of my mind and forget for ever
And try with all my might to eat and thrive.*

*cited: Trans: Arthur Waley, Project Gutenberg A Hundred and Seventy Poems. Note: The above poem is from a series known as the Nineteen Pieces of Old Poetry. Some have been attributed to Mei Shēng (first century b.c.), and one to Fu I (first century a.d.).

Image and poem submitted in response to Travel with Intent’s Six Word Challenge

early morning readings

“…is it the wish—the dreamlike, bombastic wish—to stand once again at that point in my life and be able to take a completely different direction than the one that has made me who I am now?

“There is something peculiar about this wish, it smacks of paradox and logical peculiarity. Because the one who wishes it—isn’t the one who, still untouched by the future, stands at the crossroads. Instead, it is, the one marked by the future become past who wants to go back to the past, to revoke the irrevocable. And would he want to revoke it if he hadn’t suffered it. …it’s the absurd wish to go back behind myself in time and take myself—the one marked by events—along on this journey.” ~P Mercier (Night Train to Lisbon, pp. 51-54)

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” ~ Heraclitus

When my heart came to rule
in the world of love,
it was freed
from both belief
and from disbelief.

On this journey,
I found the problem
to be myself.

When I went beyond myself,
the pathway finally opened. ~Mahsati Ganjavi

initially posted in November, 2018

lens-artist’s photo challenge: found in the neighborhood

the neighborhood’s
relaxation spot…
the tree’s deep shade ~Issa (cited: haikuguy.com)

hazy night–
people listening
to heavenly music ~Issa (cited: haikuguy.com)

the mountain bees, too
yearn to live there…
town of people ~Issa (cited: haikuguy.com)

A historical journey through my neighborhood…images and haiku posted in response to this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge: Found in the Neighborhood.

thursday’s special

More precious than
jewels and gold
spread under the sky--
your visit
at the beginning of spring.
~Ryokan (cited: Trans K Tanahashi, Sky Above Great Wind)

This month’s Thursday’s Special Pick a Word Challenge words are: aureate, canine, consecrated, deciduous, desolate.

autumn

We promised 
to see each other
when rice is transplanted.
Already autumn wind is blowing
through yellow leaves
~Ryokan (cited: Trans: K Tanahashi, Sky Above Great Wind)

lens-artists: the sun will come out tomorrow

O Sun that rose in the eastern corner of Earth,

Looking as though you came from under the ground,

When you crossed the sky and entered the deep sea,

Where did you stable your six dragon-steeds?

Now and of old your journeys have never ceased:

… ~Li Po (cited: gutenberg.org)

I did not sleep, gazing at the moon all night
But the dawning of the day
Was in whiteness of hoar-frost. ~Izumi Shikibu (cited: Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan)