Homage to D. H. Lawrence – Autumn Rain – October 1, 2016

Autumn Rain

The rain falls
a harvest of tears
black and wet
sheaves of pain
as the stalks droop and are drawn
what was sown is reaped.

Into the cold
no warmth awaits now
dripping rain
falling leaves
no thoughts of resurrection
men are slain – rain falls.

Redemption:
in the falling rain
winter fields
lie fallow
until the awakening
in heaven’s fields set.

Gsk ’16

Today I returned to B&P Shadorma & Beyond introducing a poem by D.H. Lawrence for a shadorma interpretation by our readers … the above is my interpretation and the following is Lawrence’s poem:

Autumn Rain

The plane leaves
fall black and wet
on the lawn;

the cloud sheaves
in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;
the seed of heaven
on my face

falling — I hear again
like echoes even
that softly pace

heaven’s muffled floor,
the winds that tread
out all the grain

of tears, the store
harvested
in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:
the sheaves of dead
men that are slain

now winnowed soft
on the floor of heaven;
manna invisible

of all the pain
here to us given;
finely divisible
falling as rain.

D. H. Lawrence

Written for B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond at MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie

Little Creatures – Violets – March, 7, 2015

tiny violets
in soon passing forget me no –
cold winter mornings

§§§

sweet violets
ah – forget me not
in winter

© G.s.k. ‘15

In Italy violets are more often than not called “non ti scordar di me” or “forget me not” (as I think they may be called in English as well) and are a symbol of remembrance and specifically remembered love …  when they begin to bloom in early spring, because they grow so close to the ground, they are called “love grass (erba d’amore)”.  In the Victorian era, in the “language of flowers” the violet was associated with fidelity and true eternal love and it is said that this was one of the reasons that many were scandalized when in  D.H. Lawrence’s book (Lady Chatterley’s Lover)  he writes about an erotic exchange of violets between Lady Chatterley and her lover.

If you’ve got the patience to read a translation of an Italian page … this page is very interesting and it’s the source of the information I’ve related to you above, but there’s much, much more – like for example that The violet is the flower dedicated to “International Missing Children’s Day” (May 25th). (Non Ti Scordar Di Me).

tiny May flower
for all the world’s lost children
forget me not

© G.s.k. ‘15

 – The photograph I borrowed comes from a delightful blog all about violets that you called: Violet Dreams at Whispering Earth )   🙂

Here is some lovely violet haiku from various haiku masters:

yamaji kite naniyara yukashi sumire-gusa

coming along the mountain path,
there is something touching
about these violets

© Basho (Tr. R.H.Blyth)

suwaritaru fune wo agareba sumire kana

getting off the boat
that had grounded, –
the violets!

© Buson (Tr. R.H. Blyth)

Basho’s verse is extended and “explained” by Gyodai:

sumire tsumeba chiisaki haru no kokoro kana

picking a violet, –
the slender
heart of spring!

© Gyodai

tsumu mo ashi tsumanu mo ashiki sumire kana

to pluck it is a pity,
to leave it is a pity,
Ah, this violet!

© Naojo

fragile and a beauty,
the purple leaves like velvet,
cherished in the rain

© Chèvrefeuille

fragile beauty,
these purple leaves like velvet,
cherished in the rain

© Chèvrefeuille

(Chèvrefeuille added this note to his last haiku … By the way … I think you have noticed it. In these two haiku by myself I have used punctuation and that’s new for my haiku … I never use punctuation, because without punctuation the reader, you, can decide the tone by yourself. With punctuation I take your freedom of mind away … and that’s certainly not my way of being a haiku poet.

The above haiku can be found along with the whole original (and interesting) post at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

Haiku from a Poem – February 17, 2015

majestic moon rise
her  timeless place-less beauty
naked and glorious
confirms our finite passing
and tarnished imperfection

© G.s.k. ‘15

This tanka has been written thanks to the inspiration of the following poem, presented on HA’s “Heeding Haiku with HA” from Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie.

Moonrise

And who has seen the moon, who has not seen
Her rise from out the chamber of the deep,
Flushed and grand and naked, as from the chamber
Of finished bridegroom, seen her rise and throw
Confession of delight upon the wave,
Littering the waves with her own superscription
Of bliss, till all her lambent beauty shakes towards us
Spread out and known at last, and we are sure
That beauty is a thing beyond the grave,
That perfect, bright experience never falls
To nothingness, and time will dim the moon
Sooner than our full consummation here
In this odd life will tarnish or pass away.

Moonrise, by D.H. Lawrence.