Sunday, November 13, 2005
Dewdrops on a Crane's Bill
Today, a collection of poems by Dogen:
Autumn's colors dropping from branches in masses of falling leaves,
Cold clouds bringing rain into the crannies of the moutains:
Everyone was born with the same sort of eyes—
Why do mine keep seeing things as Zen koans?
___________________
In the heart of the night,
The moonlight framing
A small boat drifting,
Tossed not by the waves
Nor swayed by the breeze.
___________________
About the mountain crest
A brush of cloud floating,
Wild geese fly in files passing
As the moon is hiding behind
A pine tree on the ridge.
___________________
Looking out
Past where there are
Cherry blossoms or crimson leaves,
To the grass-thatched huts by the bay
Clustered in the descending autumn dusk.
___________________
A firefly's
Soft glimmer,
As the mountain ridge
Faintly appears under the
Dim glow of the moon.
___________________
To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.
___________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)
Autumn's colors dropping from branches in masses of falling leaves,
Cold clouds bringing rain into the crannies of the moutains:
Everyone was born with the same sort of eyes—
Why do mine keep seeing things as Zen koans?
___________________
In the heart of the night,
The moonlight framing
A small boat drifting,
Tossed not by the waves
Nor swayed by the breeze.
___________________
About the mountain crest
A brush of cloud floating,
Wild geese fly in files passing
As the moon is hiding behind
A pine tree on the ridge.
___________________
Looking out
Past where there are
Cherry blossoms or crimson leaves,
To the grass-thatched huts by the bay
Clustered in the descending autumn dusk.
___________________
A firefly's
Soft glimmer,
As the mountain ridge
Faintly appears under the
Dim glow of the moon.
___________________
To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.
___________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)