Evensong for Silent Stars
not at the words of men of titles,
nor be swept away with the song and dance of opportunists
At shores ravished by
the Great Wave,
voiceless souls oar up into the heavens.
The papers and TV
churn out the same old stories,
but neither the mutterings of an old man alone in his
nor the black news of those who will never come home,
are ever heard from the contorted scene this halation
A year has passed
since all this happened – and yet –
even after the ancient call for hibernation to end has
no ant, no worm, no frog, no snake emerge from the soil,
and our digging turns up only nameless rags and formless
Yet lifting up our drooping heads that
sway to left and right,
small stars send light that trembles in the cold night sky,
silent souls living on and on without end,
blinking silently to those who live below.
Cherry blossoms cover a tree among tsunami wreckage in
on April 18, 2011.
Cherry blossoms and other flowers are seen at the Hanamiyama park
in Fukushima, northeastern Japan
on April 18, 2011.
(AP Photo/Hiro Komae)
See how life is
always winning over death !!!
Takashi’s original poem in Japanese
AP Photo Hiro Komae
Wonderful this photo taken after the tsunami
like the opening door for a better world.
Poem and Photo
in both English and Japanese
Buddha Trilogy：No. III
Out of the ravines
of the Mt. Hiei,
gathering and rising
the milky vapors
changing itself into Clouds.
The mountain is
in the white clouds.
Looks like a raging
shaking white hair loose.
The central cathedral,
many other churches
crowning over the mountain,
firing up with white clouds.
It looks like a giant
bristle up its white hairs.
The white clouds
out of the ravines
of the Mt. Hiei.
language once rising up
like the clouds.
Do you remember it,
soaring at the north-east of the city of KYOTO.
has been worshipped as a holy mountain to guard Kyoto,
the Capital City of Emperor, from any
For someone never to be born
My would-be-child who
waiting for a sign up above.
Embraces stolen and
that can hardly ever take any forms.
Lines of lines
never to be illuminated,
forever neglected in a womb
swarmed with words disconnected.
for the future.
In a far-developed country
Children go to school
to turn into robots.
Women put on cosmetics
to look uglier.
Lunatics go to
to become crazier.
to exchange it for money.
Still all of us live
in order to live.
rainy days remind me of Sylvia
lived in a solid German house so damp.
out of Welsh onions,
remember clever Sylvia who generously reaped for us
amount of young onion shoots in her backyard.
foreign students speak Japanese,
recollect diligent Sylvia who used to tell us,
make it a rule to remember 100 Chinese characters each day.
or five hours ’sleep is enough for me.”
think of robust Sylvia who used to complain,
water temperature is too warm.
best for me to swim in waters of about 18ºC.
I can ‘t fall asleep, my body burning hot,
I swim for a couple of hours at night in the river.”
a long time since we lost contact with her.
in a while we are concerned about earnest Sylvia.
got her last picture postcard declaring,
decided to be a communist.”
Shortly after that,
the Berlin Wall collapsed.
Wanting to communicate
with her folks of the other side
September 3rd, ,
2002 in Kyoto
Miharu Abe, left, wearing a white jacket,
cup of tee with Mariette
September 5th, 2002 in Kyoto
Carrying visitors for a walk in old Kyoto is not an easy work