Glazed silk, newly cut, smooth, glittering, white,
As white, as clear, even as frost and snow.
Perfectly fashioned into a fan,
Round, round, like the brilliant moon,
Treasured in my Lord's sleeve, taken out, put in—
Wave it, shake it, and a little wind flies from it.
How often I fear the Autumn Season's coming
And the fierce, cold wind which scatters the blazing heat.
Discarded, passed by, laid in a box alone;
Such a little time, and the thing of love cast off.
The traveler goes on,His sleeves blowing back and forth
With the autumn wind,
And the evening sun sheds lonely light
Upon the bridge suspended between the cliffs.
~Miner, Introduction to Japanese Court Poetry, 115
The grass does not refuse
To flourish in the spring wind;
The leaves are not angry
At falling through the autumn sky.
Who with whip or spur
Can urge the feet of Time?
The things of the world flourish and decay,
Each at its own hour. ~LiPo
Trans: Arthur Waley, The Poet Li Po II. 26. The Sun Gutenberg.org
“The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflections on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep crease scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.” ~Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea
After autumn winds have blown away the colors of fall, the wilting landscape left behind is a sleeping yellowish-brown hue that remains until spring winds travel across glaciered lands. Between the snowfalls of winter, it is wabi-sabi that greets me throughout each day.
Words of old--
whispered today by wind
in the reeds. ~Shōhaku (cited: Trans: S Carter, Haiku before Haiku)
From bare brush
along a mountain path--
the sound of frost ~Shinkei (cited: Trans: S Carter, Haiku before Haiku)
Fallen to the ground
like those words of old--
glowing leaves ~Inko (cited: Trans: S Carter, Haiku before Haiku)
Travels and Trifles invites photographers to share what they find interesting about a chosen subject. This post represents current work with double exposure as an avenue to open myself to the beauty of the imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete qualities of late autumn.