there on the curb
in Hollywood
you talk of Franny & Zooey
some scene you’re playing
asking my advice
about the scene
your reading
your life
slipping away
from where I sit
and later I watch
as you walk away
so far away
that I cannot follow
on the curb still
with this hole
in what was
my heart
loss
from a line by Wang An-shih: pity the poor moon
pity the poor moon
looking down
on sad sad me
a glass of Irish
in my hand
and this loss
forever stamped
on my face
the volumes in my heart: for Jimmy
there are some mornings
the call to prayer
resonates
after a long illness
or a hardship endured
but at no times
more than these
with the passing
of a beloved friend
for words fail
to express
what the Ezan
does for me now
it speaks the volumes
in my heart
last words
your last words
crumbs in my mouth
failing to fill
the void
you left behind
that song
that song
wafting
through the rooms
brought you
to mind
and all I left
somewhere behind
from my side
empty now
since you left
from my side
this ring
this ring I wear
for fifty odd years
is all that’s left
of a man
apart from a tie pin
an ashtray
some pictures
to chronicle
he passed by
this way
and imprinted
my life
forgotten pictures
I came across
some pictures
that were not
thrown away
all that you
were
all that you
became
through my hands
they fell
where they now
belong
your name
popped up
in conversation
like Marley
it foretold of ghost
memories
of Christmases
though these
firmly rooted
in the past
and it’s not
even December
regret fills
my heart
this morning
as I turn
the page
on my desk
calendar
another month
soon another year
slips away
from what was
could have been
to what is
Otomo no Yakamochi still grieving 2
In the past I saw them as strangers
but now when I think
my love is buried there,
I feel close to those Saho hills
translated by Hiroaki Sato & Burton Watson
Leonard Durso 