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قطرهها� معلق باران، شعرهای عاشقانه ژاپنی
100 Poems from the Japanese
143 pages
First published January 1, 1955
57 people are currently reading
2,066 people want to read
About the author
Kenneth Rexroth
186books100followersKenneth Rexroth was an American poet, translator, and critical essayist.
He is regarded as a central figure in the San Francisco Renaissance, and paved the groundwork for the movement. Although he did not consider himself to be a Beat poet, and disliked the association, he was dubbed the "Father of the Beats" by Time magazine.
Largely self-educated, Rexroth learned several languages and translated poems from Chinese, French, Spanish, and Japanese. He was among the first poets in the United States to explore traditional Japanese poetic themes and forms.
Rexroth died in Santa Barbara, California, on June 6, 1982. He had spent his final years translating Japanese and Chinese women poets, as well as promoting the work of female poets in America and overseas.
He is regarded as a central figure in the San Francisco Renaissance, and paved the groundwork for the movement. Although he did not consider himself to be a Beat poet, and disliked the association, he was dubbed the "Father of the Beats" by Time magazine.
Largely self-educated, Rexroth learned several languages and translated poems from Chinese, French, Spanish, and Japanese. He was among the first poets in the United States to explore traditional Japanese poetic themes and forms.
Rexroth died in Santa Barbara, California, on June 6, 1982. He had spent his final years translating Japanese and Chinese women poets, as well as promoting the work of female poets in America and overseas.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 129 reviews
February 17, 2019
On this road
No one will follow me
In the Autumn evening...
I received this book a couple of weeks ago, having read a review from one of my goodreads friends. And the poems are simply sublime, beautiful....poetic indeed. Most of them short and 'to the point' if you can say that about poetry. I like that. No long dragging poems, just like four lines of beautiful poetry. Just beautiful. The writers are monks, ladies, abbots, state advisers, emperors....
"It is common to stress the many ways in which Japanese poetry differs from English or Western European, or, for that matter, all other verse. .... It is possible to claim that Japanese poetry is purer, more essentially poetic....." This is a book to keep near you... on the arm of your chair... and every once in a while leaf through it and read a few poems, and discover new things...
There is a sequel, another 100 poems from the Japanese, I discovered, and there's 100 poems from the Chinese. I'm absolutely fascinated and will certainly find those books.... Highly recommended.
Ŏe No Chisato is believed to have lived about 825 A.D.. Nothing else is known of him, although this poem is one of the most famous in Japanese literature...
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
No one will follow me
In the Autumn evening...
I received this book a couple of weeks ago, having read a review from one of my goodreads friends. And the poems are simply sublime, beautiful....poetic indeed. Most of them short and 'to the point' if you can say that about poetry. I like that. No long dragging poems, just like four lines of beautiful poetry. Just beautiful. The writers are monks, ladies, abbots, state advisers, emperors....
"It is common to stress the many ways in which Japanese poetry differs from English or Western European, or, for that matter, all other verse. .... It is possible to claim that Japanese poetry is purer, more essentially poetic....." This is a book to keep near you... on the arm of your chair... and every once in a while leaf through it and read a few poems, and discover new things...
There is a sequel, another 100 poems from the Japanese, I discovered, and there's 100 poems from the Chinese. I'm absolutely fascinated and will certainly find those books.... Highly recommended.
Ŏe No Chisato is believed to have lived about 825 A.D.. Nothing else is known of him, although this poem is one of the most famous in Japanese literature...
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
November 2, 2020
Kenneth Rexroth—in addition to being an anarchist, a pacifist, a Buddhist, and a jazz afficionado —was a poet, critic and newspaper columnist active in San Francisco in the late 40’s and �50’s. Considered the father (as Madeline Gleason is the mother) of the San Francisco Renaissance, he helped create a friendly space for counter-cultural experimentation in the pre-Beat era, mentoring Robert Duncan, Robert Creely, William Everson (Brother Antoninus), and Jack Spicer, as well as younger poets, such as Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen. Philip Lamantia, and Michael McClure.
It was Rexroth who persuaded Ferlinghetti to move to San Francisco (where he soon opened City Lights bookstore), and it was Rexroth who introduced Allen Ginsberg—new in town—to Gary Snyder (who, in turn, introduced Snyder to Kerouac.) It is not surprising, then, that Rexroth was central to the first great public event of the West Coast Beat era: he was master of ceremonies at the “Six Gallery� poetry reading in 1955, when Allen Ginsberg gave his first public reading of “Howl.� (Later, he was a defense witness at Ginsberg’s obscenity trial.)
And it was thus that Kenneth Rexroth came to be known as “Father of the Beats.� (Although this didn’t exactly please Rexroth. He soon had a falling out with the “Beats”—something about a drunken Kerouac and Ginsberg arriving at his house late one night, demanding booze and insulting his poetry—and, when Time referred to him as “father to the beats,� he replied “an entomologist is not a bug!�)
I must admit to not being a big fan of Rexroth’s poetry. I’ve read a poem here and there in various anthologies, and years ago I tried to read The Phoenix and the Tortoise, but all that remains with me is the impression—probably unfair—of something a lot like W.C. Williams, but more erotic and with a slacker verse line. Such is definitely not the case, however, with his magnificent translations—from the Japanese, from the Chinese, from Pierre Reverdy—which have all the economy and self-discipline of The Greek Anthology.
Take this book, One Hundred Poems from the Japanese (1955). It is, to my knowledge, the first great translation of classical Japanese poetry, for no earlier work captures the concentration and spareness of Japanese verse with the efficiency of Rexroth. I suspect that without this book, the verse of many mid-century American poets—Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, and James Wright, for example—would not have been quite so effective.
One of the neat things about this book is its presentation. Every English translation is placed on the page together with the original poem, in Japanese characters, and a transliteration of its Japanese sounds. This, together with helpful notes (in the back of the book, where they do not detract from the esthetic experience) make this a very attractive volume.
Here, for a taste, is 5% of the contents:
When I went out
In the Spring meadows
To gather violets,
I enjoyed myself
So much that I stayed all night.
—Aհ
In the empty mountains
The leaves of the bamboo grass
Rustle in the wind.
I think of a girl
Who is not here.
—HհѴ鰿
I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains.
—Iܱѱ
I dreamed I held
A sword against my flesh.
What does it mean?
It means I shall see you soon.
—LADY KASA
You say, “I will come.�
And you do not come.
Now you say, “I will not come.�
So I shall expect you.
Have I learned to understand you?
—LADY OTOMO NO SAKANOE
February 18, 2025
Third reading of a great favorite.
Poems often of great passion.
Here's a gem by Fujiwara No Sadayori, 11th century:
You say, "I will come."
And you do not come.
Now you say, "I will not come."
So shall expect you.
Have I learned to understand you?
Poems often of great passion.
Here's a gem by Fujiwara No Sadayori, 11th century:
You say, "I will come."
And you do not come.
Now you say, "I will not come."
So shall expect you.
Have I learned to understand you?
August 22, 2022
Lots of white space here for medicinal purposes. You get the short poem in English, followed by Japanese, followed by Japanese symbols. If the thought of Thanksgiving table talk scares you, just reread a Japanese poem like this:
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in dense hop vines,
Which no one visits.
-- The Monk Eikei
Or this:
A strange old man
Stops me,
Looking out of my deep mirror.
-- Hitomaro
Or this:
The colored leaves
Have hidden the paths
On the autumn mountain.
How can I find my girl,
Wandering on ways I do not know?
-- Hitomaro
Or this:
If only the world
Would always remain this way,
Some fishermen
Drawing a little rowboat
Up the river bank.
-- The Shögun Minamoto No Sanetomo
Or this:
All during a night
Of anxiety I wait.
At last the dawn comes
Through the cracks of the shutters,
Heartless as night.
-- The Monk Shun-E
See how easy they go down? Like little meditations, they are. You can finish the book in a half hour, but surely you need to randomly open it and read a few each day for weeks thereafter. Shapshots in time, they feel like. Moments captured and bottled. Like fireflies.
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in dense hop vines,
Which no one visits.
-- The Monk Eikei
Or this:
A strange old man
Stops me,
Looking out of my deep mirror.
-- Hitomaro
Or this:
The colored leaves
Have hidden the paths
On the autumn mountain.
How can I find my girl,
Wandering on ways I do not know?
-- Hitomaro
Or this:
If only the world
Would always remain this way,
Some fishermen
Drawing a little rowboat
Up the river bank.
-- The Shögun Minamoto No Sanetomo
Or this:
All during a night
Of anxiety I wait.
At last the dawn comes
Through the cracks of the shutters,
Heartless as night.
-- The Monk Shun-E
See how easy they go down? Like little meditations, they are. You can finish the book in a half hour, but surely you need to randomly open it and read a few each day for weeks thereafter. Shapshots in time, they feel like. Moments captured and bottled. Like fireflies.
November 13, 2017
One hundred poems from the Japanese, Kenneth Rexroth (English Translation)
The poems are drawn chiefly from the traditional Manyoshu, Kokinshu and Hyakunin Isshu collections, but there are also examplaes of haiku and other later forms.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: بیست و نهم ماه ژوئن سال 2015 میلادی
عنوان: قطره های معلق باران، شعرهای عاشقانه ژاپنی؛ گردآوری و ترجمه به انگلیسی: کنت رکسروت؛ مترجم: عباس مخبر؛ مشخصات نشر: تهران، نشر مشکی، 1391، در 143 ص، شابک: 9789648765458؛ موضوع: شعرهای عاشقانه ژاپنی؛ قرن 20 م
همه کوچه ها به خانه ی تو منتهی اند، پشت همین پس کوچه ها سرگردانم؛ همگی بن بست اند. ا. شربیانی
The poems are drawn chiefly from the traditional Manyoshu, Kokinshu and Hyakunin Isshu collections, but there are also examplaes of haiku and other later forms.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: بیست و نهم ماه ژوئن سال 2015 میلادی
عنوان: قطره های معلق باران، شعرهای عاشقانه ژاپنی؛ گردآوری و ترجمه به انگلیسی: کنت رکسروت؛ مترجم: عباس مخبر؛ مشخصات نشر: تهران، نشر مشکی، 1391، در 143 ص، شابک: 9789648765458؛ موضوع: شعرهای عاشقانه ژاپنی؛ قرن 20 م
همه کوچه ها به خانه ی تو منتهی اند، پشت همین پس کوچه ها سرگردانم؛ همگی بن بست اند. ا. شربیانی
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October 4, 2020
Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1798-1861)
Kenneth Rexroth (1905-1982), American poet, literary critic and essayist, was also an interesting translator of classical Chinese and Japanese poetry. I review one of his many collections of Chinese poetry here:
100 Poems from the Japanese (1955) consists of extremely readable translations of poems from a range of poets. Most of the poems are taken from the two most important collections of ancient Japanese poetry, the Manyoshu (compiled in 759 CE) and the Kokinshu (in 905) supplemented by poems from the Hyakunin Isshu (mid-13th century). Although all of the usual difficulties of translating poetry are faced here, at least the additional, special difficulties of translation of classical Chinese poetry are absent, since Japanese is not a tonal language, it makes more use of the connectives common to Western languages, etc.
There now exist complete English translations of all three of the mentioned collections, but I very much like Rexroth's version of the poems he chooses. Judging from the number of poems translated by Rexroth of each poet (usually only one or two), one of his favorites (and one of mine) is Kakinomoto no Hitomaro (c. 662-710), whose imaginary portrait is given in the Ukiyo-e print above. I'd like to quote a few of his gems.
A strange old man
Stops me,
Looking out of my deep mirror.
What a concise, precise, striking evocation of the experience all aging human beings have when they are reminded (having forgotten for a while) that their image of themselves is even more fallacious than it was in the past!
I sit at home
In our room
By our bed
Gazing at your pillow.
Does this invitation to ponder the absence/loss of a loved one really need more words?
Of course, one must be open to such invitations, open to the idea that most of the experience of the poem is left up to the reader to realize, in order to enjoy many of the poems in this collection.
Rexroth closes with a few famous haiku, written much later than the other poems, including this one of Matsuo Basho (1644-1694).
An old pond -
The sound
Of a diving frog.
With the exception of the haiku, the translations are accompanied by the originals in romanji, romanized Japanese, so that one may try to sound out the music of the original.
August 29, 2021
No, the human heart
is unknowable.
But in my birthplace
The flowers still smell
The same as always.
Almost every poem forges an intimate connection between the outer world and the inner as if out there is everything we need to understand ourselves. The perfect book to carry around in a bag. No poem is more than six lines. You can read a couple of poems while waiting in line at a checkout.
is unknowable.
But in my birthplace
The flowers still smell
The same as always.
Almost every poem forges an intimate connection between the outer world and the inner as if out there is everything we need to understand ourselves. The perfect book to carry around in a bag. No poem is more than six lines. You can read a couple of poems while waiting in line at a checkout.
August 23, 2022
I am such a wayward reader. A few coincidences in the last couple of days led me to this beautiful collection of Japanese medieval poetry, translated by an American poet Kenneth Rexroth. Enchanted by that takes place in Korea, which we are currently discussing in a GR reading group, I watched again two of my favorite films by a great Japanese director with the similar, yet in medium different, poetic beauty, lyrical simplicity and melancholy. And then I came across a GR friend’s tempting review of this book, all of which promptly decided for me to take it off my shelf and read at once.
Not only did I enjoy my immersion into the meditative poems that are supreme in the Japanese literary tradition, but also learned more about their poetry that preceded haiku. Two anthologies were central in the medieval period with compiled poems from various hands over several centuries, mostly in the short form of tanka in 5 lines and its variant sedoka in 6 lines, ѲԲõ Shū (“Ten-Thousand-Leaves Collection�) from the 8th century and Kokin Shū (“Ancient and Modern Collection�) from two centuries later. Rexroth’s book offers a splendid sample of 100 poems from these massive collections.
It’s best for the poems to speak in their own voices, so here are a few:
Not only did I enjoy my immersion into the meditative poems that are supreme in the Japanese literary tradition, but also learned more about their poetry that preceded haiku. Two anthologies were central in the medieval period with compiled poems from various hands over several centuries, mostly in the short form of tanka in 5 lines and its variant sedoka in 6 lines, ѲԲõ Shū (“Ten-Thousand-Leaves Collection�) from the 8th century and Kokin Shū (“Ancient and Modern Collection�) from two centuries later. Rexroth’s book offers a splendid sample of 100 poems from these massive collections.
It’s best for the poems to speak in their own voices, so here are a few:
The mists rise overI also want to add a couple of tankas, translated more literally for study purposes but giving a good sense of the poets� thoughts, by Arthur Waley in his . Rexroth highlights this book in his bibliography; it can be borrowed on archive.org.
The still pools at Asuka.
Memory does not
Pass away so easily.
~Yamabe No Akahito (along with Hitomaro, Akahito was a principal poet from the ѲԲõ times, both canonized as kasei, “deified poets�)
In the Autumn mountains
The colored leaves are falling.
If I could hold them back,
I could still see her.
~Kakinomoto No Hitomaro (as in the case of Akihoto, only the approximate dates of their lives are known)
Your hair has turned white
While your heart stayed
Knotted against me.
I shall never
Loosen it now.
~this tanka by Hitomaro reminds me of the beautiful bond between the old couple in Ozu’s film Tokyo Story
Imperceptible
It withers in the world,
This flower-like human heart.
~Ono No Komachi (834-880), a poetess, also remembered for her “legendary beauty� and tragic late life
In the mountain village
The wind rustles the leaves.
Deep in the night, the deer
Cry out beyond the edge of dreams.
~Minamoto No Morotada, 12th century
This is not the moon,
Nor is this the spring,
Of other springs,
And I alone
Am still the same.
~Ariwara No Narihira, 9th century, several No plays are dedicated to this great poet, including Kakitsubata (“Water Iris� which I also grow in my garden, better known in the West as “Japanese Iris�) that attracted Ezra Pound to translate it
In the eternal
Light of the spring day
The flowers fall away
Like the unquiet heart.
~Ki No Tomonobi, early 10th century, he assisted his uncle Tsurayuki in compiling the Kokin anthology
I do not know
What they are thinking about
In my birthplace, but
I do know that
The flowers still smell the same.
~Ki No Tsurayuki (882-946), compiled Kokin Shū and other collections, also renown for calligraphy (this version is from Rexroth’s alternative translation in the notes)
My existence in the world has beenRexroth’s introduction is informative as are his brief biographies of each poet. The poems are presented in his English translation along with their original text in transliteration as well as Japanese characters. In Ken’s hilarious and spot-on words, “Lots of white space here for medicinal purposes.� :-)
(As transitory as) the reflection of the moon
Which lodges in water
Gathered in the palm of the hand
(About which one doubts) whether it is there or not.
~another tanka by Tsurayuki, annotated as “the poet’s death-poem�
When evening comes
I will leave the door open beforehand
and (then) wait
For him who said he would come
To meet me in my dreams.
~Ōtomo no Yakamochi (718-785), a likely compiler of the ѲԲõ anthology
July 17, 2017
What beautiful poetry. I thought to myself, which one stays with me the most, and it was this one:
The white chrysanthemum
Is disguised by the first frost,
If I wanted to pick one
I could find it only by chance.
And then a poem with autumn in it always touches me:
The hanging raindrops
Have not dried from the needles
Of the fir forest
Before the eevning mist
Of Autumn rises.
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in the dense hop vines
Which no one visits.
That last one is a rather sad poem, but I liked it.
The white chrysanthemum
Is disguised by the first frost,
If I wanted to pick one
I could find it only by chance.
And then a poem with autumn in it always touches me:
The hanging raindrops
Have not dried from the needles
Of the fir forest
Before the eevning mist
Of Autumn rises.
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in the dense hop vines
Which no one visits.
That last one is a rather sad poem, but I liked it.
October 14, 2016
Kenneth Rexroth Kenneth Rexroth, what a crotchety belle-lettrist. In an afterword to the Frank Norris novel McTeague, which I just read he says how much he dislikes novels and that only kids and women should read them, but then goes on to say how much he likes McTeague. While reading Rexroth’s cantankerous comments this book of his translations from the Japanese surfaced in my house during a house renovation upheaval. God bless cranky well read farts like Rexroth and major personal library upheavals that spit out old forgotten favorites like One Hundred Poems From The Japanese!
This is a collection of tanka, which are kind of like long haiku, but which predated haiku by centuries. Rexroth much prefers tanka, though he includes a couple pages of haiku at the end for balance and comparison.
Some favorites:
1.
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in dense hop vines,
Which no one visits.
The Monk Eikei
I like it for its succinct evocation of cozy loneliness.
2.
I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains.
Lady Izumi Shikibu
I like it because it is a sad movie with gothic touches in my mind.
3.
The hanging raindrops
Have not dried from the needles
Of the fir forest
Before the evening mist
Of Autumn rises.
The Monk Jakuren
I like it because it is a near hallucinatory moment of visual clarity that is then blurred by its own movement of rising melancholy.
4.
As the mists rise in the dawn
From Uji River, one by one,
The stakes of the nets appear,
Stretching far into the shallows.
Fujiwara No Sadayori
I like it because it embodies, line by line, its own unfolding visuals as it simultaneously draws my mind away from itself as it reads.
5.
In the evening
The rice leaves in the garden
Rustle in the autumn wind
That blows through my reed hut.
Minamoto No Tsunenobu
I like it because it also embodies, line by line, its own unfolding visuals and atmosphere. By the last line the breeze itself is blowing through the poem evoking a cozily alert melancholy.
6.
I will come to you
Through the ford at Saho,
The plovers piping about me
As my horse wades
The clear water.
Otomo No Yakamochi
I like it because it is an epic moment (with movement) of heroic beauty.
I do not know how accurate Rexroth’s translations are but they more than fulfill one requirement of great translation - they all are excellent stand-alone poems in English. Rexroth knew how to get that concise utterly resilient imagery into English that is both rock solid and delicate. Bravo old fart!
This is a collection of tanka, which are kind of like long haiku, but which predated haiku by centuries. Rexroth much prefers tanka, though he includes a couple pages of haiku at the end for balance and comparison.
Some favorites:
1.
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in dense hop vines,
Which no one visits.
The Monk Eikei
I like it for its succinct evocation of cozy loneliness.
2.
I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains.
Lady Izumi Shikibu
I like it because it is a sad movie with gothic touches in my mind.
3.
The hanging raindrops
Have not dried from the needles
Of the fir forest
Before the evening mist
Of Autumn rises.
The Monk Jakuren
I like it because it is a near hallucinatory moment of visual clarity that is then blurred by its own movement of rising melancholy.
4.
As the mists rise in the dawn
From Uji River, one by one,
The stakes of the nets appear,
Stretching far into the shallows.
Fujiwara No Sadayori
I like it because it embodies, line by line, its own unfolding visuals as it simultaneously draws my mind away from itself as it reads.
5.
In the evening
The rice leaves in the garden
Rustle in the autumn wind
That blows through my reed hut.
Minamoto No Tsunenobu
I like it because it also embodies, line by line, its own unfolding visuals and atmosphere. By the last line the breeze itself is blowing through the poem evoking a cozily alert melancholy.
6.
I will come to you
Through the ford at Saho,
The plovers piping about me
As my horse wades
The clear water.
Otomo No Yakamochi
I like it because it is an epic moment (with movement) of heroic beauty.
I do not know how accurate Rexroth’s translations are but they more than fulfill one requirement of great translation - they all are excellent stand-alone poems in English. Rexroth knew how to get that concise utterly resilient imagery into English that is both rock solid and delicate. Bravo old fart!
May 21, 2015
Exquisite and often very moving. In his very helpful introduction, the translator, Kenneth Rexroth (a poet in his own right) notes that Japanese poetry "depends first of all on the subtlety of its effects. It is a poetry of sensibility."
The poems from the Manyoshu collection date from the middle of the eighth century. Written originally in Chinese characters, they are sophisticated, small polished jewels. The imagery from nature that will be an enduring feature of Japanese poetry and art is already on display here, but these are poems that speak not just of the natural world, but of the world in the heart of men. Many of my favorites were the poems of Yamabe No Akahito a member of the court of the Emperor Shomu (734-748).
The poems from the Manyoshu collection date from the middle of the eighth century. Written originally in Chinese characters, they are sophisticated, small polished jewels. The imagery from nature that will be an enduring feature of Japanese poetry and art is already on display here, but these are poems that speak not just of the natural world, but of the world in the heart of men. Many of my favorites were the poems of Yamabe No Akahito a member of the court of the Emperor Shomu (734-748).
The mists rise overThe poetry of later centuries is often tinged with a sense of melancholy, a Zen appreciation of the fragility of each moment, as in this poem penned by Bunya No Asayasu sometime in the early 10th century. It was written at the request of the Emperor during a garden party and poem-writing contest.
The still pools at Asuka.
Memory does not
Pass away so easily.
In a gust of wind the white dewOr this, written by Onakatomi No Yoshinobu sometime during the late 10th century:
On the Autumn grass
Scatters like a broken necklace.
The deer on pine mountain,Many of the poems speak of love and loss. Nearly half of the poems were penned by women. At this one, by Lady Horikawa, a 12th century attendant to the Dowager Empress, I found myself smiling and thinking, 'Oh yes! I know that feeling...'
Where there are no falling leaves,
Knows the coming of autumn
Only by the sound of his own voice.
Will he always love me?Lady Otomo No Sakanoe lived in the eighth century:
I cannot read his heart.
This morning my thoughts
Are as disordered
As my black hair.
You say "I will come."The collection includes a long epigraph from Murasaki's Tale of Genji. Rexroth notes that the poem is the pivot point of the novel so I should probably hide this small fragment in a
And you do not come.
Now you say, "I will not come."
So I shall expect you.
Have I learned to understand you?
May 15, 2015
من همیشه از شعرهای ژاپنی لذت می برم. این بار مجموعه ای منتخب از اشعار ژاپنی کلاسیک، قرون وسطی و مدرن جمع آوری شده. خوندن این شعرهای احساسی و تصویری به شدت دوست داشتنی بود به خصوص وقتایی که با خودت حساب می کنی که این شعرها توی چه سال و چه قرنی سروده شده و هنوز هم انقدر تازه و زیبان.
October 23, 2015
نمره ی واقعی: سه و نیم
مجموعه ی احساسی جالبی است. باید تصور کنی موقعیت را تا شعر درت رسوخ کند و لذت ببری و گرنه از آنجا که ترجمه است حیث صوری آن چیز خاصی نیست
مترجم در مقدمه دو خطر ترجمه ی اشعار ژاپنی را ذکر می کند: یکی سانتیمانتالیسم - احساساتی شدن زیادی و سطحی - و دیگری دام زبان شاملویی - یعنی استفاده از لحن حماسی و گاه پرخاش جویانه در ترجمه ی اشعار ساده و تغزلی ژاپنی. من قضاوتی نمی کنم اما جالب بود این نکته کلا
February 6, 2017
لطافت توی شعر ها بیداد می کرد...
واقعا اشعار ژاپنی عجیب و لطیفن با تصویر سازی های عالی ...
ولی سخته بگم همه ی 200 تا شعر عالی بودن...
ولی 50 تاییش فوق العاده بودن...
.
.
عشق ما بی پایان
و شب هامان اندک اند
چه بی رحمانه است صدای فاخته
در صبح دم
.
.
به شور گذشته مه باز می نگرم
خود را کوری می بینم
که از تاریکی هراس ندارد
.
.
نخستین سپیده می زند
با سوسوی نوری سپید
تو باید بروی
با هم لباس می پوشیم صبح دم
و از اندوه می لرزیم...
واقعا اشعار ژاپنی عجیب و لطیفن با تصویر سازی های عالی ...
ولی سخته بگم همه ی 200 تا شعر عالی بودن...
ولی 50 تاییش فوق العاده بودن...
.
.
عشق ما بی پایان
و شب هامان اندک اند
چه بی رحمانه است صدای فاخته
در صبح دم
.
.
به شور گذشته مه باز می نگرم
خود را کوری می بینم
که از تاریکی هراس ندارد
.
.
نخستین سپیده می زند
با سوسوی نوری سپید
تو باید بروی
با هم لباس می پوشیم صبح دم
و از اندوه می لرزیم...
December 9, 2014
An ideal introduction to classical Japanese poetry, if my own experience is anything to go by. Rexroth's introductory essay won me over pretty easily by pointing out that the differences between Japanese and 'Western' poetry aren't all that great (though he wasted some of my good will by then describing Japanese poetry as "purer, more essentially poetic... less distracted by non-poetic considerations," which is like saying that my kitchen table is less distracted by non-table considerations than your picnic bench.
More importantly, the essay explains the forms, puts them in historical context, deals with some of the problems a reader is likely to encounter (not many unless you really need to know every implication of every word).
Rexroth's selection is very good: even if, like me, you grow easily bored by love poetry, you'll soon find something more to your taste.
I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains (Izumi Shikibu)
Or,
As certain as color
Passes from the petal,
Irrevocable as flesh,
The gazing eye falls through the world. (Ono No Komachi)
Or even a love poem metallic enough for my pallet:
I dreamed I held
A sword against my flesh.
What does it mean?
It means I shall see you soon. (Lady Kasa)
And then there are the mini biographies at the end of the text, which are informative and sometimes helpful for understanding the poems; the lovely production of the book itself; and the very odd idea of including representations of Japanese pronunciation, which I suspect doesn't really help anyone, but is still charming. Lady's Kasa's poem supposedly runs:
Tsurugi tachi
Mi ni tori sou to
Ime ni mitsu
Nani no satoshi zomo
Kimi ni awamu tame
Now for anyone who doesn't know Japanese, and possibly even for people who do, that is *truly* the essence of poetry, unalloyed by extra-poetical considerations like, you know. Meaning.
So, to state the obvious, I have no idea how well Rexroth has translated these poems. But I do know that his versions are readable and coherent.
The white chrysanthemum
Is disguised by the first frost.
If I wanted to pick one
I could find it only by chance. (Oshikochi No Mitsune)
More importantly, the essay explains the forms, puts them in historical context, deals with some of the problems a reader is likely to encounter (not many unless you really need to know every implication of every word).
Rexroth's selection is very good: even if, like me, you grow easily bored by love poetry, you'll soon find something more to your taste.
I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains (Izumi Shikibu)
Or,
As certain as color
Passes from the petal,
Irrevocable as flesh,
The gazing eye falls through the world. (Ono No Komachi)
Or even a love poem metallic enough for my pallet:
I dreamed I held
A sword against my flesh.
What does it mean?
It means I shall see you soon. (Lady Kasa)
And then there are the mini biographies at the end of the text, which are informative and sometimes helpful for understanding the poems; the lovely production of the book itself; and the very odd idea of including representations of Japanese pronunciation, which I suspect doesn't really help anyone, but is still charming. Lady's Kasa's poem supposedly runs:
Tsurugi tachi
Mi ni tori sou to
Ime ni mitsu
Nani no satoshi zomo
Kimi ni awamu tame
Now for anyone who doesn't know Japanese, and possibly even for people who do, that is *truly* the essence of poetry, unalloyed by extra-poetical considerations like, you know. Meaning.
So, to state the obvious, I have no idea how well Rexroth has translated these poems. But I do know that his versions are readable and coherent.
The white chrysanthemum
Is disguised by the first frost.
If I wanted to pick one
I could find it only by chance. (Oshikochi No Mitsune)
January 2, 2015
عنوان: آوای جهیدن غوک؛ نویسنده: زویا پیرزاد؛ مشخصات نشر: تهران، نشر مرکز، 1386، در 191 ص، موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان فارسی قرن 14 خورشیدی، قرن 21 م
آوای جهیدن غوک» ترجمهایس� از اشعار منتخب دو کتاب
The Penguin Book of Japanese Verse و One Hundred Poems from the Japanese
کتاب فقط «هایکو» ندارد، شعرهایی که در دو قالب معروف دیگر شعر ژاپنی، یعنی «تانکا» و «سن ریو،» هم سروده شده به وفور در آن آمده است. سرودهها� حدود ۹۰ شاعر از اعصار مختلف ادبیات ژاپن را در «آوای جهیدن غوک» میتوا� یافت، شاعران قرون هفتم تا بیستم میلادی ژاپن
چند شعر از انبوه� شعرهای خواندنی «آوای جهیدن غوک» را در ادامه میآور� و بار دیگر آرزو میکن� این کتاب تجدیدچاپ شود
آغاز هنر! / آواز برنجکارا� / در دل روستا
حال که کودکی دارد / از پیانوی خود راضی نیست - زن
درختان کاج را نقاشی میکن� / بر آسمان آبی / ماه - امش�
آذرخش / در دل ظلمت فرو میرو� / فریاد مرغ ماهیخوا�
فزونی میگیرن� بدگوییه� / چون علفها� هرز در چمنزا� تابستانی / من و دختر دلخواها� / میخوابی� در آغوش هم
آنج� به نیزا� / مینال� مرغی اندوهگی� / گویی یاد میآور� چیزی را / که بهت� بود فراموش میش�
جهان راه به جایی نمیبر� / در دورترین کوهه� هم / مینال� گوزن
گلی به زمین افتاده / به شاخه بازگشت / وه! یک پروانه
دختران شالیکا� / تنها آوازشان / در امان از گل و لای
آوای جهیدن غوک» ترجمهایس� از اشعار منتخب دو کتاب
The Penguin Book of Japanese Verse و One Hundred Poems from the Japanese
کتاب فقط «هایکو» ندارد، شعرهایی که در دو قالب معروف دیگر شعر ژاپنی، یعنی «تانکا» و «سن ریو،» هم سروده شده به وفور در آن آمده است. سرودهها� حدود ۹۰ شاعر از اعصار مختلف ادبیات ژاپن را در «آوای جهیدن غوک» میتوا� یافت، شاعران قرون هفتم تا بیستم میلادی ژاپن
چند شعر از انبوه� شعرهای خواندنی «آوای جهیدن غوک» را در ادامه میآور� و بار دیگر آرزو میکن� این کتاب تجدیدچاپ شود
آغاز هنر! / آواز برنجکارا� / در دل روستا
حال که کودکی دارد / از پیانوی خود راضی نیست - زن
درختان کاج را نقاشی میکن� / بر آسمان آبی / ماه - امش�
آذرخش / در دل ظلمت فرو میرو� / فریاد مرغ ماهیخوا�
فزونی میگیرن� بدگوییه� / چون علفها� هرز در چمنزا� تابستانی / من و دختر دلخواها� / میخوابی� در آغوش هم
آنج� به نیزا� / مینال� مرغی اندوهگی� / گویی یاد میآور� چیزی را / که بهت� بود فراموش میش�
جهان راه به جایی نمیبر� / در دورترین کوهه� هم / مینال� گوزن
گلی به زمین افتاده / به شاخه بازگشت / وه! یک پروانه
دختران شالیکا� / تنها آوازشان / در امان از گل و لای
June 4, 2016
When I was a kid, for many months I carried this volume in my hip pocket. It was replaced by Basho's Narrow Road to the Deep North, which I toted around physically for a couple of years, until it become part of me.
December 13, 2016
میخواست� به چمنزارهای بهاری روم
تا جوانهها� سبز بچینم
دیروز، سراسر، برف بارید
امروز، سراسر، برف بارید
September 6, 2015
Reading this book was sort of a revelation for me; it made me realize I'm a tanka person, not a haiku person.
Roughly speaking:
Haiku = a 300-year-old verse form; short ("one breath long"); focused on nature and the seasons; the entire poem is supposed to be a perception that takes place in the present instant, so the overt use of metaphors and other figurative language is discouraged; erotic/romantic themes are generally discouraged. Translator Kenneth Rexroth would have you believe that the advent of the haiku coincided with the corruption of Japanese poetry by "secular and middle-class" sensibilities.
Tanka = a 1200-year-old verse form, courtly/aristocratic in origin; approximately twice as long as haiku (31 units vs. 17 units), though still short by Western standards; reaches out to encompass a broader range of humanistic themes and emotions (including the erotic/romantic); the use of metaphors and other figurative language is common.
Very distinct in character from the Monkish Three who were the leading lights of the haiku tradition (Basho, Buson, and Issa), there was a notable number of female tanka poets: Rexroth refers to Akazome Emon, Murasaki, Sei Shonagon, Izumi Shikibu, and Ise Tayu as "the most brilliant gathering of women in the world's literature."
Roughly speaking:
Haiku = a 300-year-old verse form; short ("one breath long"); focused on nature and the seasons; the entire poem is supposed to be a perception that takes place in the present instant, so the overt use of metaphors and other figurative language is discouraged; erotic/romantic themes are generally discouraged. Translator Kenneth Rexroth would have you believe that the advent of the haiku coincided with the corruption of Japanese poetry by "secular and middle-class" sensibilities.
Tanka = a 1200-year-old verse form, courtly/aristocratic in origin; approximately twice as long as haiku (31 units vs. 17 units), though still short by Western standards; reaches out to encompass a broader range of humanistic themes and emotions (including the erotic/romantic); the use of metaphors and other figurative language is common.
Very distinct in character from the Monkish Three who were the leading lights of the haiku tradition (Basho, Buson, and Issa), there was a notable number of female tanka poets: Rexroth refers to Akazome Emon, Murasaki, Sei Shonagon, Izumi Shikibu, and Ise Tayu as "the most brilliant gathering of women in the world's literature."
August 7, 2017
3.5 stars. It's a collection from many different poets, some were beautiful even in their simplicity. And some were merely "I walked down the stairs. Birds frolicked betwixt branches." Stuff like that. But overall I'd say I liked the collection.
March 20, 2018
One of the great classics of poetry books. I always enjoy reading this book.
Japanese poetry is short. That requires even more perfection perhaps. No notes are required to explain something from Japanese culture. The themes are universal.
Here are some examples:
When I went out
In the spring meadows
To gather violets,
I enjoyed myself
So much that I stayed all night.
--Akahito (734 to 748 CE)
I think of the days
Before I met her
When I seemed to have
No troubles at all.
--Fujiwara No Atsutada (Died around 961. "The Fujiwara family, or rather clan, still extant and powerful today, is one of the most extraordinary which has ever existed. For centuries they have provided Japan with administrators, regents, Shoguns, poets, generals, painters, philosophers, and abbots.")
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
--Oe No Chisato (c. 825. This is one of the "most famous poems in Japanese literature.")
In the empty mountains
The leaves of the bamboo grass
Rustle in the wind.
I think of a girl
Who is not here.
--Hitomaro (c. 700. "He is generally considered the leading Japanese poet.")
Will he always love me?
I cannot read his heart.
This morning my thoughts
Are as disordered
As my black hair.
--Lady Horikawa (c. 1150.)
Do not smile to yourself
Like a green mountain
With a cloud drifting across it.
People will know we are in love.
--Sakanoe (c. 700.)
Japanese poetry is short. That requires even more perfection perhaps. No notes are required to explain something from Japanese culture. The themes are universal.
Here are some examples:
When I went out
In the spring meadows
To gather violets,
I enjoyed myself
So much that I stayed all night.
--Akahito (734 to 748 CE)
I think of the days
Before I met her
When I seemed to have
No troubles at all.
--Fujiwara No Atsutada (Died around 961. "The Fujiwara family, or rather clan, still extant and powerful today, is one of the most extraordinary which has ever existed. For centuries they have provided Japan with administrators, regents, Shoguns, poets, generals, painters, philosophers, and abbots.")
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
--Oe No Chisato (c. 825. This is one of the "most famous poems in Japanese literature.")
In the empty mountains
The leaves of the bamboo grass
Rustle in the wind.
I think of a girl
Who is not here.
--Hitomaro (c. 700. "He is generally considered the leading Japanese poet.")
Will he always love me?
I cannot read his heart.
This morning my thoughts
Are as disordered
As my black hair.
--Lady Horikawa (c. 1150.)
Do not smile to yourself
Like a green mountain
With a cloud drifting across it.
People will know we are in love.
--Sakanoe (c. 700.)
June 7, 2010
I borrowed this from the library during National Poetry Month (April) when I realized I hadn't familiarized myself tankas in a long while. A tanka is one of the short poetry forms (31 syllables, broken in to five 5-7-5-5-5 syllable lines) that the Japanese poets made famous. There's also so haiku, and longer poems as well. All the poems have the original Japanese and English translation side by side.
These poems are meant to be simple little caps to the previous evening, written the morning after. I loved the simplicity in the topics, and the relatability of the poetry even after surviving hundreds of years.
These poems are meant to be simple little caps to the previous evening, written the morning after. I loved the simplicity in the topics, and the relatability of the poetry even after surviving hundreds of years.
April 1, 2016
As with most collections, this was a mix of poetry I found very beautiful and poetry that didn't appeal to me. Overall enjoyed the style.
September 5, 2017
Not the best collection, but there are some very real gems.
Others may forget you, but not I.
I am haunted by your beautiful ghost.
-THE EMPRESS YAMATOHIME
Will I cease to be,
Or will I remember
Beyond the world,
Our last meeting together?
-LADY IZUMI SHIKIBU
You do not come, and I wait
On Matsuo beach,
In the calm of evening.
And like the blazing
Water, I too am burning.
-FUJIWARA NO SADAIE
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in the dense hop vines
Which no one visits.
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
--Oe No Chisato
Others may forget you, but not I.
I am haunted by your beautiful ghost.
-THE EMPRESS YAMATOHIME
Will I cease to be,
Or will I remember
Beyond the world,
Our last meeting together?
-LADY IZUMI SHIKIBU
You do not come, and I wait
On Matsuo beach,
In the calm of evening.
And like the blazing
Water, I too am burning.
-FUJIWARA NO SADAIE
Autumn has come
To the lonely cottage,
Buried in the dense hop vines
Which no one visits.
As I watch the moon
Shining on pain's myriad paths,
I know I am not
Alone involved in Autumn.
--Oe No Chisato
Read
January 26, 2021I have always known
That at last I would
Take this road, but yesterday
I did not know that it would be today.
~ Ariwara Nō Narihira
From One Hundred Poems from the Japanese, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, 1964 (English), from New Directions
Ariwara Nō Narihira was a 9th century poet. His work is featured in many Nō dramas, but very little is known of his life, according to Rexroth's end notes.
Despite the title, there are over 100 pieces in this anthology, primarily consisting of ancient and medieval poems. Rexroth was a prolific translator of Japanese and Chinese literature, and this is one I've visited in the past and am happy to return to for a full reread for #JanuaryinJapan.
Subtle, short poems, laden with emotion and meaning.
That at last I would
Take this road, but yesterday
I did not know that it would be today.
~ Ariwara Nō Narihira
From One Hundred Poems from the Japanese, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, 1964 (English), from New Directions
Ariwara Nō Narihira was a 9th century poet. His work is featured in many Nō dramas, but very little is known of his life, according to Rexroth's end notes.
Despite the title, there are over 100 pieces in this anthology, primarily consisting of ancient and medieval poems. Rexroth was a prolific translator of Japanese and Chinese literature, and this is one I've visited in the past and am happy to return to for a full reread for #JanuaryinJapan.
Subtle, short poems, laden with emotion and meaning.
June 19, 2017
A beautiful collection that brought this reader much-needed solace and inspiration on a melancholy day.
March 4, 2025
Interesting collection of Japanese poetry as translated for English-speaking audiences. Most of the poems are three or four lines, so a quick read. I'm not super-familiar with Japanese poetry, so this was a good immersion in some of the styles and themes that are presented here.
April 7, 2025
No, the human heart Is unknowable.
But in my birthplace
The flowers still smell
The same as always.
But in my birthplace
The flowers still smell
The same as always.
March 27, 2023
I don't know how to explain it, but these translations strike me as pretty but inert. I much prefer versions I've read elsewhere (Keene anthology, Dover edition of Manyoshu, MacMillan translation of Hyakunin Issyu).
March 12, 2013
"We were together
Only a little while
And we believed our love
Would last a thousand years."
Yakamochi
I can't be the first to think Tennyson must have borrowed from this poem for the famous 'better to have loved and lost' portion of In Memoriam A.H.H. I think people all need this belief in the endurance of love -- we involuntarily cling to it, whether in eighth-century Japan, Victorian England, or here and now. A friend let me borrow this short collection, and for a couple of weeks I practically slept with it under my pillow. Perfectly austere. It's trimmed of superfluous language, and elegant in its depiction of loss, and how loss of love can hold as much beauty as love itself. Hats off to translator Kenneth Rexroth. I recommend it if you aren't necessarily inclined to read poetry but want to feel it, undiluted. Check it out!
Another favourite, however bitter:
"I may live on until
I long for this time
In which I am so unhappy,
And remember it fondly."
Fujiwara No Kiyosuke
Only a little while
And we believed our love
Would last a thousand years."
Yakamochi
I can't be the first to think Tennyson must have borrowed from this poem for the famous 'better to have loved and lost' portion of In Memoriam A.H.H. I think people all need this belief in the endurance of love -- we involuntarily cling to it, whether in eighth-century Japan, Victorian England, or here and now. A friend let me borrow this short collection, and for a couple of weeks I practically slept with it under my pillow. Perfectly austere. It's trimmed of superfluous language, and elegant in its depiction of loss, and how loss of love can hold as much beauty as love itself. Hats off to translator Kenneth Rexroth. I recommend it if you aren't necessarily inclined to read poetry but want to feel it, undiluted. Check it out!
Another favourite, however bitter:
"I may live on until
I long for this time
In which I am so unhappy,
And remember it fondly."
Fujiwara No Kiyosuke
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