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Lake

The Lost Garden

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Lake

The Lost Garden

 

This garden that buds in spring and ripens in autumn, stands quiet in the piercing wind. No sound of water from jumping frogs. In gray skies, a storytelling of ravens caw. A field of tall grasses, of which I can only name a few; silver feather, little bluestem and purple moor, sway and bend with their last sighs. A white rock, stripped of green moss, stares back at me, silent. How many times I have come with delight, smelled the floral profusion, trees heavy-laden with apples and berries. How I mesmerize myself with its landscape imagining the whereabouts of the gardener; his chair, in this brick-paved corner, remains empty. I wonder if the chair can draw me closer to Basho. I walk over and sit down.

 

In stillness, listen:

a seed cracking in rhythms

underneath the ground

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goldenlangur

Hi Lake,

 

Love the way you close your haibun - the haiku carries the poet's longings and hope for a new beginning.

 

I recognize this garden from your haiku and here in the haibun you add more details to bring it alive for the reader. The stillness of the garden, no longer tended but left to the poet to wander and reflect is very well drawn out.

 

I love you reference to Basho - the link in spirit and yearning between the Great Master and the poet is quite touching.

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra

Lake, wonderful haibun, and you are better and better in your prose.

The haibun goes very peacefully, and then you are closing the same, on wonderful way

 

How I mesmerize myself with its landscape imagining the whereabouts of the gardener; his chair, in this brick-paved corner, remains empty. I wonder if the chair can draw me closer to Basho. I walk over and sit down.

The reference to Basho, I like it too. And the line after that reference it's amazing.

 

In stillness, listen:

a seed cracking in rhythms

underneath the ground

 

Here you express something very deep what comes in " stillness "

 

The title is very nice too. " The Lost Garden " gives wonderful imagery and sense.

 

Thank you for sharing this wonderful work Lake.

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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tonyv

I love the exquisite imagery in this haibun, but I have to disagree with the others about one aspect: I don't so much like the references to the gardener or to Basho. It could be that I'm not familiar with Basho and don't understand his significance, but, more than likely, it's because of my occidental mindset: I think that the prose should, after berries (or after one additional, similar sentence), lead right into your superb haiku. For me, the gardner/Basho part detracts from the other imagery the haibun built up in my mind. Up until that point, the piece was (and should have remained icon_rolleyes.gif) more like something by my favorite poet James Wright (perhaps his translation of Trakl's A WINTER NIGHT). I love the bleakness of it.

 

Tony


Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Lake

Tony,

 

I see your point re the reference of Basho. Another reader once raised the same question, so you are not alone. I wrote it because at that time that's exactly what was in my mind. Maybe it sounds like the idiom "Draw a snake and add feet to it", meaning to ruin the effect of something by adding something superfluous. You made me think...

 

Glad you also like James Wright's works. The first poem I read from him is:

 

Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

 

Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly

Asleep on the black trunk,

Blowing like a leaf in the green shadow.

Down the ravine behind the empty house,

The cowbells follow one another

Into the distances of the afternoon.

To my right,

In a field of sunlight between two pines,

The droppings of last year’s horses

Blaze up into golden stones.

I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.

A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.

I have wasted my life.

 

–James Wright, 1963

 

You know why I like this one. icon_smile.gif

 

And I always come back for his last line, which I'm not quite sure if I understood it.

 

As always much appreciation.

 

Lake

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tonyv

Ah, Lake, I like that poem, too, especially because of the last line. I think it's discussed to some extent in one of the books we talked about here earlier, but I forget which one. (I can find it, if you're interested. icon_smile.gif ) I like the poem, because it's James Wright, but I presume you like it because of the setting ... icon_biggrin.png (Don't forget, Wright taught at the University of Minnesota.)

 

As for your haibun, I wouldn't quite say it's like drawing a snake and adding feet. I just like the expressionism of Trakl (the Wright translations), and I got excited when I saw the haibun start out in that direction. Nevertheless, I still love the way it turned out.

 

Tony


Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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