One Thousand Summers

“ Time passed. But time flows in many streams. Live a river, an inner stream of time will flow rapidly at some places and sluggishly at others, or perhaps even stand hopelessly stagnant. Cosmic time is the same for everyone, but human time differs with each person. Time flows in the same way for all human beings; every human being flows through time in a different way. As Otoko approached forty she wondered if the fact that Oki remained within her meant that this stream of time was stagnant, rather than flowing. Or had her image of him flowed along with her through time, like a flower drifting down a river? How she drifted along in his stream of time she did not know. Although he could not have forgotten her, time would at least have flowed differently for him. Even if two people were lovers, their streams of time would never be the same. . . ”   ―  Yasunari Kawabata, Beauty and Sadness   Kawabata Yasunari  川端康成  (1899−1972) 美しさと哀しみと Utsukushisa to kanashimi to Translated by Howard S.

“ ...he had always read  The Tale of Genji  in the small type of modern editions, but when he came across it in a handsome old block-printed edition it made an entirely different impression on him. What had it been like when they read it in those beautiful flowing manuscripts of the age of the Heian Court? A thousand years ago  The Tale of Genji  was a modern novel. It could never be read that way again, no matter how far  Genji  studies progressed. Still, the old edition gave a more intense pleasure than a modern one. Doubtless the same would be true of Heian poetry.”   ―  Yasunari  Kawabata ,  Beauty and Sadness   Kawabata Yasunari  川端康成  (1899−1972) 美しさと哀しみと  Utsukushisa to kanashimi to Translated by Howard S. Hibbett (1920 −2019)

In the  quiet  spring sunlight cherry’s new blossoms in a whirlwind of petals descend. *  

Although I never knew the ways of letters, Buddhist Novice (Renshō) has carefully insisted that I write the poem cartouches  for sliding doors of Saga Chūin. Even though they are awfully unsightly, written half-heartedly, I am sending them away. From the ancient times, a poem from every poet, from Emperor Tenji ( 1 )  to Ietaka ( 2 )  and Masatsune ( 3 ) .

After many, many years, eight-fold cherries of the capital in Nara, now bloom inside the nine-fold palace.*

My fear is that you will forget your promise to never forget me, so I would prefer to die now while I am still happy. 

Composed as one of fifty poems on flowers at the house of Goky ōgoku Regent

So the flower has wilted during the long spring rains, just as my beauty has faded during my forlorn years in this world.