blend together
one into the other
and sleep
my foreign cousin
eludes me
instead the past creeps in
obliterating what should be thoughts
of a future
and regret eats chucks of my heart
leaving crumbs not worth sharing
in a world
bereft of hope
standing on a foreign shore
watching ships sail the sea
the taste of whiskey
lingering on my tongue
regret
a tanka: vanishing breed
ancient dinosaur
too sensitive for this world
with regret in heart
goes lumbering off to lie
with his own vanishing breed
Composed at Sunset at the Dunes of Ho-yen by Ts’en Shen
On the sands is seen the sun rising,
On the sands is seen the sun setting.
Regret for having come ten thousand li:
Achievement, fame, what things are these?
untitled poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
Untitled Poem by Lady Akazome Emon
I should not have waited.
It would have been better
To have slept and dreamed,
Than to have watched night pass,
And this slow moon sink.
Thoughts While Traveling By Night by Tu Fu
Slender grass, light breeze on the banks.
Tall mast, a solitary night on board.
A falling star, and the vast plain broader.
Surging moon, on the Great River flows.
Can fame grow from the written word alone?
This officer, both old and sick, must let that be.
Afloat, afloat, just so. . .
Heaven, and Earth, and one black gull.
Returning to Lingao by Night by Su Shi
Drinking at Eastern Slope at night,
I sober, then get drunk again.
When I come back, it’s near midnight.
I hear the thunder of my houseboy’s snore,
I knock but no one answers at my door.
What can I do but, leaning on my cane,
Listen to the river’s refrain?
I long regret I am not master of my own.
When can I just ignore the hums of up and down?
In the still night the soft winds quiver
On the ripples of the river.
From now on, I would vanish with my little boat,
For the rest of my life, on the sea I would float.
Untitled Poem by Yamabe No Akahito
The mists rise over
The still pools at Asuka.
Memory does not
Pass away so easily.
Asuka gawa
Kawa yodo sarazu
Tatsu kiri no
Omoi sugu beki
Koi ni aranaku ni
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Leonard Durso 