Coming along the mountain path
Somehow it tugs my heart
(trans. Lesley Downer)
The mercury slunk down to – 12 Fahrenheit last night. Or thereabouts. At such low temperatures, what difference does it make? All is white, white, white outside. We are waiting until it “warms” above zero to venture outside to the supermarket. The New Year has just begun, winter is scarcely a week old, and already I long for spring! So I solace myself with this reminder. Spring has come in the past, it will come again, and meanwhile, here is a lovely haiku about — it’s anybody’s guess what a haiku is about. It’s not a meaning. It’s a sensation, an emotion, a moment in time. For me, today — it’s hope for spring to come again!
(For the curious, who may have read about the strict required number of syllables in haiku — the number isn’t counted in English, guys! It’s counted in Japanese. Here is the original for you. Sound it out if you like, to to hear the haiku as it was conceived by the great master, Basho. A violet is sumire.)
nani yara yukashi