This little boat of mine, truly a lone leaf,
and beneath it, the sound of dark swells:
I keep paddling in depths of night, drunk,
pleasures of home, bed and desk,forgotten.
At dawn, when I ask about the road ahead,
I’m already past a thousand ridges rising
beyond ridges. O where am I going here,
this Way forever leaving ever returning?
Never arriving, what can we understand,
and always leaving, what’s left to explain?
translated by David Hinton
Now that I feel love,
I’m interested in fragrances.
It never used to interest me that flowers have smell.
Now I feel their fragrance as if I were seeing something new.
I know they smelled before, even as I know I existed.
These are things we know outwardly.
But now I know with the breathing at the back of my head.
Now flowers have a delicious taste I can smell.
Now I sometimes wake up and smell before I see.
translated by Richard Zenith
You just came from my old village
so you know all about village affairs.
When you left, outside my window,
was it in bloom–that winter plum?
translated by David Hinton
My love’s gone off to war,
who knows how long gone
or where O where.
Chickens settle unto nests,
an evening sun sinks away,
oxen and sheep wander in–
but my love’s gone off to war
and nothing can stop these thoughts of him.
My love’s gone off to war,
not for days or even months,
and who survives such things?
Chickens settle onto perches,
an evening sun sinks away,
oxen and sheep wander home–
but my love’s gone off to war
if hunger and thirst spared him that long.
translated by David Hinton
Lightly, lightly, very lightly
A very light wind passes,
And it goes away just as lightly,
And I don’t know what I’m thinking,
Nor do I wish to know.
translated by Richard Zenith
By heaven above
I want us together, heart and mind, my love,
want it destiny on and on, without breach or fail.
Not till mountains have no peaks
and rivers run dry,
not till thunder fills winter days
and summer rains turn to snow,
not till all heaven and earth blur
together, my love, will I part from you.
translated by David Hinton
Whether I’m happy or sad?. . .
Frankly I don’t know.
What does it mean to be sad?
What is happiness good for?
I’m neither happy nor sad.
I don’t really know what I am.
I’m just one more soul that exists
And feels what God has ordained.
So then, am I happy or sad?
Thinking never ends well. . .
For me sadness means
Hardly knowing myself. . .
But that’s what happiness is. . .
translated by Richard Zenith
Calm because I’m unknown,
And myself because I’m calm,
I want to fill my days
With wanting nothing from them.
For those whom wealth touches,
Gold irritates the skin.
For those on whom fame blows,
Life fogs over.
On those for whom happiness
Is their sun, night will fall.
But those who hope for nothing
Are glad for whatever comes.
translated by Richard Zenith
Each day gives me cause to hope
For what no day can give me.
Each day makes me weary from hoping. . . . .
But to live is to hope and to grow weary.
translated by Richard Zenith
translated by Richard Zenith
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual cabaret of songs, stories and questionable life choices.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 