The Living Dead

~ Honouring our poetic ancestors ~

Selections from 'Written on the Sky: 
Poems from the Japanese'
Translated by Kenneth Rexroth

The mists rise over
The still pools at Asuka,
Memory does not
Pass away so easily.

– YAMABE NO AKAHITO (d. 736)


The flowers whirl away
In the wind like snow.
The thing that falls away
Is myself.

– PRIME MINISTER KINTSUNE (13th c.)


We dressed each other
Hurrying to say farewell
In the depth of night.
Our drowsy thighs touched and we
Were caught in bed by the dawn.

– EMPRESS EIFUKU (1271-1342)


The crying plovers
On darkening Narumi
Each grow closer, wing
To wing as the moon declines
Behind the rising tide.

–FUJIWARA NO SUEYOSHI (1152-1211)


In a gust of wind the white dew
On the Autumn grass
Scatters like a broken necklace.

– BUNYA NO ASAYASU 10th c.)


If only the world
Would always remain this way.
Some fishermen
Drawing a little rowboat
Up the riverbank.

– MINAMOTO NO SANETOMO (d. 1219)

In my recent feature on Kenneth Rexroth, I mentioned his interest in both Chinese and Japanese poetry. When I spotted this tiny, exquisite volume in a bookshop in Hobart nearly two years ago, I thought it was bound to be a treasure – and in some ways it is. It's a nice thing to have on my bedside table to open at random, either just before sleeping or just after waking, to read one or two entries. They are soothing, somehow. But when I went through it to find selections for you, I realised that many of the verses sound banal. 

In 88 pages, these above are the ones I found which had some element of the unexpected.

The others may have been very beautiful in Japanese, and more arresting; I'll never know – but they describe common human experiences in terms that have so often been used before that they have become clichés. Perhaps they were not so when Rexroth was doing his translations. Or perhaps they were not so in the far past when these poets first wrote them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ones I've chosen, which are still fresh after all this time.

And here is one more, which you will undoubtedly recognise:

An old pond –
The sound
Of a diving frog.

– MATSUO BASHO (1644-1694)

I think this quite straightforward translation is as good as any I've ever read. But then, I don't believe I've ever read a bad translation of this classic. (In poetic terms, I mean; I don't know Japanese so can't comment on the accuracy. But there have been so many translations, I think we've got the gist of it by now.) Perhaps this is a testament to Basho's greatness, that any attempt at faithful translation recreates the definitive qualities of the original – the quintessential haiku. 

Poems and photos posted to 'The Living Dead' for purposes of study and review remain the property of the copyright holders.

The Living Dead

Honouring our poetic ancestors

Airs and Angels: This Night Only

By Kenneth Rexroth 1905-1982

Moonlight   now    on Malibu

The winter night    the few stars

Far away   millions    of miles

The sea   going on    and on

Forever     around   the earth

Far    and     far     as your lips    are near

Filled    with the same light     as your eyes

Darling     darling     darling

The future     is long gone by

And the past     will never happen

We have     only this

Our one forever

So small    so infinite

So brief    so vast

Immortal     as our hands that touch

Deathless     as the firelit wine we drink

Almighty      as this single kiss

That has no beginning

That will never

Never

End

Wikipedia (see the link on the poet's name, above) describes Kenneth Rexroth as 'an American poet, translator and critical essayist' and goes on to say:

'He is regarded as a central figure in the San Francisco Renaissance, and paved the groundwork for the movement. Although he did not consider himself to be a Beat poet, and disliked the association, he was dubbed the "Father of the Beats" by Time Magazine. He was among the first poets in the United States to explore traditional Japanese poetic forms such as haiku.'

The same article notes that his erotic poetry was particularly admired, springing from 'a deep fascination with transcendent love'. I certainly admire the poem I've chosen for you this week. I love the haunting sensuousness combined with a feeling of timeless calm.

City Lights Bookstore says of him

'His poems are characterized by such an unusual range of concerns that he often began his poetry readings by wryly asking the audience: “Well, what would you like tonight: sex, mysticism or revolution?” Though almost entirely self-educated, his erudition was astonishingly broad-ranging, as reflected in essays on topics as diverse as ancient Chinese science, modern jazz, American Indian songs, California mountaineering, medieval mysticism, avant-garde art and utopian communities.'

Rexroth had a long and busy career, working for some years as an academic, but mainly publishing a lot of books – mostly poetry but also essays and criticism (though he said he only wrote prose for money!) as well as many translations of Japanese and Chinese women poets. We are told that he also promoted the work of women poets 'in America and overseas', and that he was famously anti-misogynistic. He was a pacifist, was perceived as being aligned with various radical movements during his life, and described himself as 'a philosophical anarchist'. 

Here is a fascinating fact which I didn't know before:

'With The Love Poems of Marichiko, Rexroth claimed to have translated the poetry of a contemporary, "young Japanese woman poet," but it was later disclosed that he was the author, and he gained critical recognition for having conveyed so authentically the feelings of someone of another gender and culture.'

(I gotta get that book!)

There is a longer and more scholarly article about him at The Poetry Foundation, going into great detail about his poetics, and on his importance as a figure in American literary and political life. 

His writings are available from Amazon – of course running into several pages. 

Poems and photos posted to 'The Living Dead' for purposes of study and review remain the property of the copyright holders.