First Known When Lost: Elections

Of course, one should never expect to witness the disappearance of human folly, malice, and bad faith while one is still above ground. “The vale of Soul-making” is no picnic, after all.  Not unexpected are the perennial ways of humanity: it has all been done, seen, and said before.  But it is tiresome nonetheless.  Best to let it all go.

   Autumn Night: Depicting Busyness in the Midst of Silence

White-haired, in clear autumn touched by scenes and emotions,

among hills, moon my companion, living out the last of my life:

night deepens, no lingering echoes from the ten thousand pipes;

all I hear is the sound of the sōzu tapping the rock.

Ishikawa Jōzan (1583-1672) (translated by Burton Watson), in Burton Watson, Kanshi: The Poetry of Ishikawa Jōzan and Other Edo-Period Poets (North Point Press 1990), page 25.

Watson provides a note on the sōzu: “The sōzu is a device made of a bamboo tube that periodically fills with water from a stream, tips to pour out the water, and then returns to its original position, striking a rock and producing a sharp rapping sound as it does so.  It was intended to scare deer away from the garden.”  Ibid, page 25.

Scott Metz Haiku 2009 | antantantantant

 

night bird

enough notes

to fill the sun

old pajamas: from the dirt hut: Santoka ya

 

            night is

                   animal ears

 

 

     (for Stanford M. Forrester)