Sitting in the shade,
I look acoss the river
at a wall of eastern
pines; it could be several
hundred years ago.
The sun is shining there
and not a motor boat
has been invented yet.
And I remain unborn.
~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)
IT SIFTS FROM LEADEN SIEVES
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Today — now that we have entered the dark of the year — we will look at a
poem on snow by Emily Dickinson. If we consider the position and presumed
tasks ...
2 weeks ago
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