Japanese poetry - as over-rated as Japanese animation and Japanese comics.

The Emperor's New Clothes write large.

IMHO.

Ahh but the beauty of poetry is that it is soo subjective. I find alot of meanings in these poems. Especially Basho. The fact that he can convey so much with so little is truly a sign of greatness. But I can see how you would view it differently.

I can express what basho did in just 3 words

Ribbit
Hop
Splash!

The same image in 4 syllables - does than make me the greater poet?

If you knew that a frog is a symbol of mortality and the life cycle for the japanese. That the pond can symbolize either hope or death and the sound of water signifies the eternal going of life or loss or even sorrow...perhaps and the fact that depending on how you read this, you either read it as life affirming, the eternal going on of the universe or the loss of life. Alot is missed without context of the culture that created the poems

as for the same 4 syllables, see the Ozymandias poem below. Same subject. One is a great poem the other is well mediocre at best.

My favorite from Poe

Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere -
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir -
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through and alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul -
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll -
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole -
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere -
Our memories were treacherous and sere, -
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!) -
We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here) -
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent
And star-dials pointed to morn -
As the star-dials hinted of morn -
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn -
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said: "She is warmer than Dian;
She rolls through an ether of sighs -
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
To point us the path to the skies -
To the Lethean peace of the skies -
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes -
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said: "Sadly this star I mistrust -
Her pallor I strangely mistrust:
Ah, hasten! -ah, let us not linger!
Ah, fly! -let us fly! -for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust -
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust -
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied: "This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendour is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty tonight! -
See! -it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright -
We safely may trust to a gleaming,
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom -
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb -
By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said: "What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied: "Ulalume -Ulalume -
'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere -
As the leaves that were withering and sere;
And I cried: "It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed -I journeyed down here! -
That I brought a dread burden down here -
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon hath tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber -
This misty mid region of Weir -
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

Wondrous was it this ungainly fowl could thus hold forth so plainly,

Though, alas, it discours'd vainly -- as its point was far from plain;

And I think it worth admitting that, whilst in my study sitting,

I shall stop Black Birds from flitting thusly through my door again --

Black or not, I'll stop birds flitting through my study door again --

What I'll say is, "Not Again!"


But that Black Bird, posing grimly on its placid bust, said primly

"Not Again," and I thought dimly what purport it might contain.

Not a third word did it throw off -- not a third word did it know of --

Till, afraid that it would go off, I thought only to complain --

"By tomorrow it will go off," did I tristfully complain.

It again said, "Not Again."


I just wish I had access to the entire poem. 1GG to the first person to post here where this excerpt comes from and, if you like, what makes it so special. (Though it may be nice to use spoiler tags so others can work it out for themsleves)

'Black Bird', Arthur Gordon Pym, from 'The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym' by E.A. Poe.

Full text available here.

Wow, that sounds *so* much like most of Nick Cave's songs from "Murder Ballads".

I've given you the GG as you've got what is special but not who wrote/rewrote/translated it.