One narrow path surrounded by a dense forest;
On all sides, mountains lie in darkness.
The autumn leaves have already fallen.
No rain, but still the rocks are dark with moss.
Returning to my hermitage along a way known to few,
Carrying a basket of fresh mushrooms
And a jar of pure water from the temple well.
On all sides, mountains lie in darkness.
The autumn leaves have already fallen.
No rain, but still the rocks are dark with moss.
Returning to my hermitage along a way known to few,
Carrying a basket of fresh mushrooms
And a jar of pure water from the temple well.
-- Ryokan
4 comments:
What shall I say? Picture and poem are just perfect. May be it is time for you to do a bit of "useless" wandering in Japan.
Love.
Yes, or at least wandering somewhere.
i agree with pierre.
every time i read a poem by ryokan i am amazed by the beauty of the solitude. next stop on the internet: amazon.com
i've been meaning to add this to my book collection. thanks for the poem and beautiful picture, michael.
Hello Kim,
When I read the poetry of Ryokan, Ikkyu and Saigyo, I wonder if attaining such solitude in this day and age is possible. And then I think of Pierre in Japan, and of my own walks through New York City, and I know it's possible.
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