Not big enough...
to be an "epic" or a "sonnet"...
but it's enough.
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Would a haiku by another name still have seventeen syllables?
I am a syllable-counter. For me, the exercise of summarizing my thoughts into blocks of exactly seventeen syllables is good discipline. It's not about pretty words all the time, it's about being concise with details.
So for tonight, since my brain is all tangled while I wait an extra day to hear ANYTHING from the bank (because tomorrow is a holiday!), here are some translations of my favorite haiku. The poem was written by Basho, the great 17th century wandering poet. His original, 17-syllable poem is this:
Michi nobe no mukuge wa uma ni kuware keri
Unfortunately, I don't speak Japanese, so I depend on translators to assist me However, translating poetry, especially haiku, appears to be one of the most difficult of human endeavors, akin to rocket surgery and cat herding.
Therefore, I'm including several different translations of th poem.
Along the roadside blossoming wild roses in my horse's mouth
The farmer's roadside hedge provided lunch for my tired horse
Roses grow in a hedge beside the road my horse eats them.
Mallow flower by the side of the road devoured by my horse
Each of these translations delights me, mostly, I think, because Basho's life was a lot like mine: full of poetic and contemplative landscapes which are frequently trompled by my hungry horse.
"Ha-LAR-ious" is one of my friend Erica's best words.And when I hang out with her, I see fun in many things.
When Erica's call went out a few months ago asking for the loan of a pickup truck to move a piano, I stuck up my hand and volunteered. Even moving can be fun if it's with Erica.
And besides: Erica and Michael aren't just moving across town. They are moving back to Waldron Island, the tiny remote island in the San Juan archipelago where Michael grew up and where they both lived many years in a house they built themselves. The house is warm and pretty and cheerful, but they get water from a hand-dug well, and get electricity from solar panels.
I read about life on Waldron many years before I met Erica, and was excited to visit there in person. One of the nicknames for the place is "Piano Island" because the wintertime census for the entire island is about 60 people, and the unofficial count of in-tune pianos on the island last winter was 5…
Please try to be kind to each other while we're gone, okay?
Stay off of Facebook, go ride your pony, call a friend and go out for lunch (I recommend curry). Take a walk, run with the dog, read a book, pull some weeds.
The forecast at the Renegade Rendezvous ridecamp is for sunshine and temps in the 80's.
Fiddle is cleared to WALK on trails all week. We'll be using her to mark the trails where elk tend to eat ribbons--she and I together can put ribbons up high enough that even an elk can't reach. No speed work, and no competition for us this year...but who cares?