Mar/Apr 2015 • Vol. XXXVII No. 2 Poetry |

Dreary Morning

Translated from Japanese The sound of a shallow stream comes to the mountain. Spring light is a stone. Water pours from the kakei like an old woman reading a story. Sang with my isinglass mouth. Sang, falling backward. Dry and hoarse, my heart walked the tightrope between rocks. A mysterious fire blazes into the sky! A deluge of noise crowns me! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Absently, I clap my hands … kakei: bamboo spout from which water flows into a stone basin or pond

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Translated from Japanese The sound of a shallow stream comes to the mountain. Spring light is a stone. Water pours from the kakei like an old woman reading a story. […]

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Translated from Japanese The sound of a shallow stream comes to the mountain. Spring light is a stone. Water pours from the kakei like an old woman reading a story. […]

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