One more haiku

By Issa, from the book ‘The British Museum Haiku’.

grasshopper –

do not trample to pieces

the pearls of bright dew

 

No words or just a few

I was thinking of inaugurating a series of photographs with the theme ‘words wouldn’t go that far’, to visit ‘places’ where I thought words couldn’t reach. But then I came across some haiku (a type of Japanese poetry), and somehow was drawn into a similar wordless feeling, as if the understatement of these short verses had the power of producing in me a real encounter with wonders.

I decided then to post a photo and a haiku. The haiku is by Teishitsu, from the book ‘The British Museum Haiku’.

‘Ah!’ I said, ‘Ah!’

it was all that I could say –

the cherry flowers of Mt Yoshino!

 

Time

At the end of last year, David and I went walking from Eastleigh to Winchester and ended up visiting the cathedral there. We sat down in a quiet and peaceful chapel, and David opened a Bible randomly. What came up was the following poetic and inspiring text. For many reasons the text sank in nicely, one of them being that I have been thinking of writing a children’s story about waiting.

Ecclesiaste 3, 1-8

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

 

Poem by Carlos Márcio

When I started constructing this blog, my brother posted the poem below in another page. As that page has now changed, I have decided to bring the poem to the main one. I was glad to see the first effect of the Playing Field, and will be even happier when someone creates something specially motivated by this blog! Please let me know.

This is what he said:

“I picked up a poem of mine by chance (translation below):”

Flores brancas sobre a neve
e o que mais de imóvel
minhas lembranças
meu amor
meus projetos
minhas trilhas
teus rostos
e o que mais queiramos preservar
sob as neves eternas das montanhas

Porque de tudo precisaremos na eternidade
e a eternidade, meu bem
é na próxima quarta

White flowers on the snow
and what else of immobile
my memories
my love
my plans
my trails
your faces
and whatever more may we wish to preserve
under the eternal mountain snows

For all will we need in eternity
and eternity, honey
is next wednesday

 

The mouth of the world

The mouth of the world was opened in my belly
to my great and endless astonishment
The mouth of the world speaks within my belly
but I know not how to listen

They said that the world said that life is
always inside and outside at the same time
But my ignorant heart
cannot see but the one once inside
getting ready for my arms

It was coming, stumbling, as a new child
It was coming with a jumping heart
It was coming for me
but it won’t come anymore

The mouth of the world was sewn shut
for it was said the world can speak in silence
And silence
was made in my belly
And the vastness of the whole sea could be heard
pouring down my face

In the rough waters
I bathe my wounded body
The salt on the scar
slowly reveals a new skin
But what sweet hand will come at last
to sew up my torn heart?

This poem was written by me on 15/3/06, and translated with my husband and brother’s help.