This dewdrop world
It is but a dewdrop
And yet – and yet
-- Issa
More Poetry Friday at A Year of Reading.
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Brothers, love is a teacher, but a hard one to obtain: learning to love is hard and we pay dearly for it. It takes hard work and a long apprenticeship, for it is not just for a moment that we must learn to love, but forever. (Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov)
10 comments:
Like.
Yeah. It's sort of the meta-poem.
So much said and not said with two words: "and yet."
Yes, it makes the poem really heartbreaking, I think. Issa was a Buddhist priest, so he was trained to see the world and its phenomena as impermanent, and not to become attached to them -- and yet . . . He wrote the poem after the death of one of his young children (if I'm not mistaken, all of his children died in childhood).
So graceful and so painful at the same time (more so knowing about the loss of his children). Beautiful.
There's a universe of grief in that repetition of "and yet," isn't there?
Beautiful. Sad. Beautiful.
+JMJ+
Had I read it at a more vulnerable time, it would have broken my heart.
Not knowing who Issa is, I also had an automatic guess about his background that was completely different to the reality.
And now I wish I had a similar gift for encapsulating volumes--or as you call them, universes--in a few little words, because otherwise I could never say why this poem is so beautiful.
Enbrethiliel, I think it must be the real goal of every true artist -- to say everything while appearing to say nothing. It's the highest art.
Love it! Great photo paring too. I was reading Issa to my first graders this week, to teach them about haiku. He is wonderful!
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