nothing left to regret — the taro leaves at evening flutter, flutter
omoioku koto wa nai yūbe no imo no ha hirahira
1936–1937 · At Gochū-an hermitage
Sōmokutō · A Landscape of Weeds (Zassō fūkei)
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A poem written in illness. There is nothing at all left to regret now. In the evening wind, the taro leaves flutter and sway. Words of resignation set against taro leaves that stay wholly ordinary — the pairing makes a deeper stillness.