Archive for April, 2011
in tranquility
cherry petals are falling
abyssal fish
Taro Kunugi
Japan, April 28, 2011
An eight-year-old boy, who had lost his parents and home in the great quake and tsunami, returned with his aunt and uncle to the place where his house had been. There he saw the things so much changed; he found his broken toys in the mud and his little bicycle, which was so deformed. The boy caressed them.
花冷えや 震災孤児の 宝物
blossoms in the cold —
the only survivor of the family
his treasure at home
Kai Kamakura
with Mariko Shimizu
Japan, April 2011
~ as posted on alpialdelapalabra
What the Water Knows
What the mouth sings, the soul must learn to forgive.
A rat’s as moral as a monk in the eyes of the real world.
Still, the heart is a river
pouring from itself, a river that cannot be crossed.
It opens on a bay
and turns back upon itself as the tide comes in,
it carries the cry of the loon and the salts
of the unutterably human.
A distant eagle enters the mouth of a river
salmon no longer run and his wide wings glide
upstream until he disappears
into the nothing from which he came.
Only the thought remains. Lacking the eagle’s cunning
or the wisdom of the sparrow, where shall I turn,
drowning in sorrow? Who will know what the trees know,
the spidery patience of young maple or what the willows confess?
Let me be water. The heart pours out in waves.
Listen to what the water says.
Wind, be a friend.
There’s nothing I couldn’t forgive.
Sam Hamill
(from Almost Paradise: New & Selected Poems & Translations)