Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Young Dancers of Memory

This was taken a half-a-dozen years ago, but it seems just a short time;
my grandgirl and her friend, Emily, with the bangs, were just the right age for pink tutus!

first day of spring
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn

translated by Robert Hass

The great haiku poet, Basho, often demonstrates how a poem as short as a haiku
can carry such a freight of longing. I think it is too late for me 
to start learning old-style Japanese, with the old-fashioned characters,
or to begin wandering the earth in a robe and straw sandals, but . . .

this autumn--
why am I growing old
bird disappearing among clouds

translated by Robert Hass

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