Tuesday, April 10, 2018

Japan by Billy Collins (A must-read)!

Tobacco Moth at my Moonflower years ago...



Japan 
by Billy Collins

Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.

It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again

I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.

I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.

I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.

And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.

It’s the one about the one-ton
temple bell
with the moth sleeping on the surface***,

and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.

When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.

When I say it into the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.

And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,

and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.

-------------------------------------------
(The red asterisks are mine.  I found the haiku, not online, but in a real book 10 years ago). 
***Haiku by the Japanese poet and painter Buson (1715 - 1783):  

"On the one-ton temple bell
A moon-moth, folded into sleep,
sits still."

(Translated by X. J. Kennedy)

From:  "The Norton Anthology of Poetry", page 1190

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6 comments:

Snowbrush said...

Pretty moth, pretty flower. I was putting together a post of Egyptian poems today, and thought of you, knowing that you probably aren't up on your modern day Egyptian poetry.

Marion said...

Snow, you got me. I've been neglecting my anthologies & international poets. So much poetry; so little time. I look forward to perusing your post, though!! Enlighten me!! xo

Friko said...

I saw your comment on Snowbrush’s post and simply had to come and find you.
Thank you for stirring my curiosity to explore Billy Collins too.

I read poetry, but don’t write any. (There are enough bad poets inflicting themselves on others already)
Our next poetry meeting is later this month - subject The Individual - I reckon Billy Collins may have a poem or two for me to introduce to the group on this.

Once upon a time I had a poetry blog, but life happened and got in the way.

PS: is one-ton the same as won-ton? Or are they different languages?

Marion said...

Friko, there can never be too much poetry in the world. One person's bad poetry is another's heart on display.

One ton is a weight in pounds (2,000). Won-ton is a food, a dumpling found at every Chinese food buffet.

Thanks for stopping by!

Snowbrush said...

"Enlighten me!! xo"

Here's one to get you started. I'm sure the formatting will be screwed-up, but if it's indecipherable, I'll email it.

The world is differently shaped,

wavering in strong light,

as if viewed through water.

Edges dissolve, re-form.

The cat blinks.

She has waited a long time

for you to remember her name.

Her purr, steady as the clock's heartbeat

is a bridge from the place you have left

to the place you now are.

A reliable companion,

she guides you toward the land

whose name comes to your lips slowly.


"After Fever" by Lisa Suhair Majaj, 1960-

Snowbrush said...

Okay then, one more.

When sorrows press my heart I say:

Maybe they'll disappear one day,

When books will be my friends at night,

My darling then: the candle light,

My sweetest friend: a kitten white.

Damiri, theologian and zoologist, 1344-1405 A.D.