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Selected poems from the Koetsu handscroll

Is there no moon?

And is this springtime not the spring

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of times gone by?

Myself alone remaining

still the self it was before?

That autumn has come

appears nowhere with clarity

to the observing eye:

It is a new sound in the wind

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by which we are somehow made aware.

Who now remains

for me to claim as one I know?

For the ancient pine

of Takasago was not, alas,

among my childhood friends.

They need not burn it -

grass will smolder by itself

into new growth:

Kasuga's burgeoning fields

may be left to the spring day's fire.

(c) Copyright 2000. The Christian Science Publishing Society