miercuri, 31 august 2022

"One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each" -Fujiwara no Teika

 

"One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each (Hyakunin isshu) is a private compilation of poems dating to around 1230-40 and assembled by the renowned poet and scholar Fujiwara no Teika (1162-1241). The best-loved and most widely read of all Japanese poetry collections, it was also the first work of Japanese literature to be translated into English -by Frederick Victor Dickins (1838-1915) -in 1866. There are three main reasons for its popularity. Firstly, its compiler, Teika, a scholar, theoretician and philologist, was the most admired poet of his time. Secondly, as a collection of one hundred of the best poems by one hundred representative poets, it provides a convenient introduction to the finest Japanese poetry from the late seventh to the early thirteenth centuries. Finally, it has endured thanks in part to the countless paintings, illustrated editions, commentaries and even a card game that have been inspired by it."

"All of the poems [...] are waka, the most ancient and prestigious of the traditional poetry genres. Waka serves as a general term for classical Japanese poetry in all its forms -except renga (linked verse) and haiku- as opposed to foreign verse, especially Chinese poetry. However, in the more usual, restricted sense, waka designates Japanese poetic forms pre-dating renga and haiku, namely choka, sedoka and especially the thirty-one-syllable tanka. Since the Meiji period (1868-1912), the ancient term tanka has been revived and the form updated, replacing waka as the preferred term for poems in the classical thirty-one-syllable form. The poems are arranged in five lines in an alternating pattern of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables. In this volume, the majority of the translations are laid out over five lines."

Oshikochi no Mitsune 

To pluck a stem 
I shall have to guess, 
for I cannot tell apart 
white chrysanthemus 
from the first frost. 

Fujiwara no Sadayori 

As the dawn mist 
thins in patches 
on the Uji River, 
in the shallows appear 
glistening stakes of fishing nets. 

Inpumon-in no Taifu 

How I would like to show you – 
the fishermen’s sleeves of Ojima 
are drenched, but even so 
have not lost their colour, 
as mine have, bathed in endless tears. 

Fujiwara no Kintsune 

As if lured by the storm 
the blossoms are strewn about, 
white upon the garden floor, 
yet all this whiteness is not snow – 
it is me who withers and grows old

miercuri, 17 august 2022

Cormac McCarthy -"Blood Meridian"

 

"Glanton sat his horse and looked long out upon this scene. Sparse on the mesa the dry weeds lashed in the wind like the earth’s long echo of lance and spear in the old encounters forever unrecorded. All the sky seemed troubled and night came quickly over the evening land and small Gillis birds flew crying softly after the fled sun. He chucked up the horse. He passed ans so passed all into the problematical destruction of darkness."

miercuri, 3 august 2022

Mircea Nedelciu -"Tratament fabulatoriu"

 

"O societate de cateva zeci de membri, inchisa din punct de vedere economic, cu principii de functionare ce pareau a fi viabile, dar cu o gresita priza la timp, cu imposibilitatea de a atinge prezentul, iata ce credeam ca exista la numai cativa kilometri de locul meu nou de munca. Numai ca, in timp ce mancam, o neplacuta senzatie de aer inghitit din cauza gustului de friptura condimentata pe care il avea isi facea loc. Inconsistenta acelui ospat foarte bun la gust, foamnea care imi chinuia mai departe stomacul, ameteala pe care credeam ca mi-o producea tuica lor cu gust de fructe uscate pareau inrudite de aproape cu inconsistenta imaginii despre lume in absenta cuvintelor, cu starea nefireasca in care ma aflam de fiecare data cand nimeream la conac." 

"Si uriasa cantitate de fantezie, isi zice, pe care o consuma cu totii pentru a-si da impresia ca nu le e frica de nimic, nici din afara, nici dinlauntrul lor. Jocurile de canasta, inghititura de coniac bul la ore fixe ale singuratatii de dupa-amiaza, hainele de buna calitate imbracate la petreceri, halatele moi, dupa baie, pipele de import, mustata canita, jocul de bridge, pockerul pe sume mari si pe intalniri tensionate, vocea ingrosata in luarile de cuvant in cadrul official, sportul de duminica, excursia, crosetatul, omoratul timpului e forma cea mai disperata a incercarii de a indeparta spaimele marunte si sacaitoare. Dar pe mine de ce nu ma cred cand incerc sa le spun ca marea veselie ce-i cuprinde adesea, la cererea lor, fireste, nu e decat rezultatul acestei spaime provocate de un fenomen meteo cu nume necunoscut, fenomenul Luca ar trebui sa i se spuna? Ei il simt in aer si, in loc sa-l analizeze serios si sa ia apoi masuri de aparare, isi cumpara bautura, mancare din belsug, pun muzica, isi dau intalniri, danseaza, flirteaza, joaca tot felul de nazbatii infantile, se relaxeaza, chipurile, neacceptand ca sunt de fapt victime ale unei subtile infiltrari de lasitate in sufletul lor si ca, dupa aceea, urmarile catastrofale devin imposibil de inlaturat. De aici pana la crima cea mai abjecta nu mai e decat un pas [...]"