A Project of
|Guidelines||Rants||Patterns||Poems||Services||Classes||Press||Blog||Resources||About Us||Site Map|
32. View from Noborito
Clams for dinner! Fish in baskets--
How rich the beach is, under the blessed gates,
So happily disregarded by the children
Running in the ankle-deep water, happy
To tumble into this loose sand, and laugh.
Reeds rush out,
Bushes like trees
Fit into the covers.
A thatched roof pokes
Into the foreground
Destroying any closeness to the scene.
But our eyes move out to sea,
Following these busy diggers out
To the heavy laden boats hauling
In the big nets, or perhaps
Carrying passengers and clam baskets,
Up to Edo, for tomorrow's market.
Torii greet us at the Shinto shrines,
These lead sailors in
To the temple just below us,
Or draw the ambitious,
Restless, or ruined peasant
Out into deep water,
The domed glow of Tokyo.
One digger only
To the nearby miracle.
No sleep here--
Alert to bubble trails,
What toes touch,
These clammers harvest
Without wiping out the seed.
Now industrial pools
Fetching sand spit--
No chase here--
The mussels have no barnacles,
And the oysters no grit.
Taste was rich with unpredictability,
The uneven pungency of wild growth--
Triangulated by season, luck, and tide.
Hokusai loved the work,
The people who pitched in,
And their beloved white marker,
The gate of fire, resting under snow.
Height, and depth by Mount Fuji.
00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 WWW