We hunger to inquire of each other, to compare notes and assure ourselves that it was all really true, as one by one the scents and sounds and names of long-forgotten places come gradually back and beckon to us.'I tried stopping on one year,' said the third swallow. They flutter through our dreams at night, they fly with us in our wheelings and circlings by day. 'First, we feel it stirring within us, a sweet unrest then back come the recollections one by one, like homing pigeons. “No, you don't understand, naturally' said the second swallow. Who knows who the tailor is, who’s cut your leaves so fine? It’s The vernal winds past February, sharp as the scissors’ blades. *** Up to your crown, O willow, dressed in the green of jades, Myriads of twigs so verdant, droop like your silken braids.
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When dawn comes and the rain is over, Where are the traces they have left? A pond full of brock duckweeds! Of all the clors of springtime, Two thirds have gone with the fust And one-third with the flowing water! When you look closely, These are not willow catkins, But, drop after drop, parted lovers’ tears! - Su Shih I do not grieve that the willow catkins have flown away But that, in the Western Garden, The fallen red cannot be gathered. Spring peace– After rain, a gang war Garden sparrows. *** Spring peace- a mountain monk peeks through the hedge – Kobayashi Issa The thrush sings In spring dawn A star remains – Akio Nagata *** Pulled From my dream, the spring dawn. Lively talking About local lore and legend Shining wind – Atsuko Oyanagiĭo I hear the sound of spring dawn rain? – Kazuhiko Endo In the shining wind, white flowers bloom in the handkerchief Sparkling, the blue boat in the shining wind – Junko Tamaki *** Rice cake with bean paste for the crossroads Buddha. Then, house in order, all neat as a pin, She ushers gentle springtime in." - Susan Reiner, Spring Cleaningįrom a court lady I get some Botamochi - spring equinox – Buson She shakes the grime from carpet green Till naught but fresh new blades are seen. She washes and cleans with pounding rains, Scrubbing the earth of winter stains. "March bustles in on windy feet And sweeps my doorstep and my street. – Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden Perhaps out of pure heavenly goodness the spring came and crowned everything it possibly could into that one place.” That afternoon the whole world seemed to devote itself to being perfect and radiantly beautiful and kind to one boy. “And it was like that with Colin when he first saw and heard and felt the Springtime inside the four high walls of a hidden garden. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true and sometimes a look in some one's eyes. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands alone and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun-which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years.
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“One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. Listen and subscribe on Stitcher, Apple, and Spotify. Hiroaki Sato leaves “Hiro’s Corner” to join our co-hosts for an interview about haiku. Most of our audio archives are on this site (note: our earliest audio archives are available only by request.) Plus, we’ve got a growing collection of content exclusive to the Web site, such as author readings and extended interviews.In this reflective episode, Alexis and Kit joyfully welcome brighter days, remember springs past amid wildflower meadows and cherry blossoms, and look forward to the shining future. Writer’s Voice has been on the air since 2004 and podcasting since 2006.