Have you considered other translations for 露? Dewdrops are indeed poetically evocative. I see them on grasses and flowers as the night gives way. On a shorebird’s beak, I see spume or spray, a splash without Basho’s frog.
That poems necessarily work by spaces and words following each along, this directionality poses a particular challenge. The poet doesn't want to just pull the reader's attention along bit by bit, no matter how "raw, fierce, honest" (current fads). This sets up a fixed relationship of attention that risks not allowing the reader's sensation of space (to which Ginsberg refers, as you note in your review of Goldberg). There are several ways of addressing the problem of directionality in the word by word sounding out of the poem. What you've done in brilliantly utilizing image -- the shorebird -- allows the reader's imagination to immediately be drawn inside and out again by the previously set " To what - I -- moonlight/reflected -- dewdrops/shaken -- shorebird's bill." The dually presented images have allowed the reader to fly (to the moon from here to there) while gathering (dewdrops) in light of the moonlight (shaken) -- all to come together as a bird of land and shore, the bill specifically both possessed by the bird and illuminated by the moon.
This "shorebird" works beautifully in my opinion for its simplicity and elegance. There is always a way that words take on weight in the reader's mind while hearing or reading a poem. This issue of directionality of the sounding tracks of words suggests that a skilled writer can drop these words to different depths with an ear for allowing the resulting 3-dimensional soundscape to bloom with spaces.
Goldberg's frog pond translation is devoid of this 3-dimensional patterning of soundscape with image/rhythm/thought.
As for Dogen's waterbirds rather than migratory -- well, I saw a quote on my facebook feed that I was actually pleased to see. "If there is any magic on earth, it is water." - Loren Eiseley. Can you imagine how different the earth was in Dogen's time? Maybe the magic of water became his native tongue.
...ah yes, the trackless, the signless, the wishless...beautiful imagery and writing.
Have you considered other translations for 露? Dewdrops are indeed poetically evocative. I see them on grasses and flowers as the night gives way. On a shorebird’s beak, I see spume or spray, a splash without Basho’s frog.
I think of cranes Such beautiful writing. And I love this photo and so many of your photos.
GORGEOUS TRANSLATION OF MUJO!!!
Took my breath away!
I love "shorebird" for several reasons.
That poems necessarily work by spaces and words following each along, this directionality poses a particular challenge. The poet doesn't want to just pull the reader's attention along bit by bit, no matter how "raw, fierce, honest" (current fads). This sets up a fixed relationship of attention that risks not allowing the reader's sensation of space (to which Ginsberg refers, as you note in your review of Goldberg). There are several ways of addressing the problem of directionality in the word by word sounding out of the poem. What you've done in brilliantly utilizing image -- the shorebird -- allows the reader's imagination to immediately be drawn inside and out again by the previously set " To what - I -- moonlight/reflected -- dewdrops/shaken -- shorebird's bill." The dually presented images have allowed the reader to fly (to the moon from here to there) while gathering (dewdrops) in light of the moonlight (shaken) -- all to come together as a bird of land and shore, the bill specifically both possessed by the bird and illuminated by the moon.
This "shorebird" works beautifully in my opinion for its simplicity and elegance. There is always a way that words take on weight in the reader's mind while hearing or reading a poem. This issue of directionality of the sounding tracks of words suggests that a skilled writer can drop these words to different depths with an ear for allowing the resulting 3-dimensional soundscape to bloom with spaces.
Goldberg's frog pond translation is devoid of this 3-dimensional patterning of soundscape with image/rhythm/thought.
As for Dogen's waterbirds rather than migratory -- well, I saw a quote on my facebook feed that I was actually pleased to see. "If there is any magic on earth, it is water." - Loren Eiseley. Can you imagine how different the earth was in Dogen's time? Maybe the magic of water became his native tongue.
Can't wait for your essay, Leanne!
Why cranes? Why not herons? Egrets?