"As I Went Out One Morning" - Issa's Sunday Service, #76

Tuesday is Election Day and they'll be no comment here, except to say this week's selection for Issa's Sunday Service is "As I Went Out One Morning" by Bob Dylan.  The album from which it comes, John Wesley Harding, has been a long time favorite of mine for many reasons, not the least of which is the drumming of Kenny Buttrey.  Aside from the solo albums, it is one the most stripped down, certainly the cleanest of all productions, over the entire span of Dylan's career.  Beside Buttrey and Dylan, there was Charlie McCoy on bass and Pete Drake on pedal steel guitar.  That's it and it's truly amazing.

The lyrics are transcendent, the songs sublime.  It echoes through the years with a timelessness that not very many albums have.  If I had to compare it to anything, I'd compare it not to another album but a book.  A once-in-a-lifetime, much loved book.

I'll leave it there.

Think Tom Paine.

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Here are two poems from the archive that shared the same page in an issue, #113, from way back in November 2000.

The Symbolism of Breath

Everything
turns to steam
in October
and the fog
pours thick
off
of your skin.

C. C. Russell

Death has
my father's eyes,
pale blue and crisp
as autumn mornings.

Albert Huffstickler

even to these old eyes--
cherry blossoms!
cherry blossoms!

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,
Don

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The Sound of Water: the Closing Section

This final look at Sam Hamill's volume of haiku translations, The Sound of Water, focuses on the section entitled "Other Poets," specifically meaning everyone except Bashō, Buson, and Issa, all of whom we covered in previous posts.

To learn how to die
watch cherry blossoms, observe
chrysanthemums

Anonymous

Simple, really, yet we need to be reminded time and time again.  It is what makes haiku a way, as in a Way, if you pay attention.

Returning from a funeral
I saw this very moon
high above the moor

Kyorai

There is a bait and switch, which-shell-is-the-moon-under-quality to this poem.  Which moon, did you say?

All of them, of course.

True obedience:
silently the flowers speak
to the inner ear

Onitsura

This poem, particularly this rendition, runs quite deep.  First, true obedience to ... what?  Hamill has captured how silence speaks rather nicely, rather slyly, really.  I've seen another version, by Blyth, I believe, that mentions "the inner ear also."  Though certainly not fair to Hamill, perhaps, like the inner ear, we should be true to the poet, Onitsura.   Perhaps the also is incorrect, but if it is, there is a contrast of two different types of obedience and two different types of hearing. 

Aside from these, there was also Moritake's famed blossom returning to the branch (butterfly!) - for an animated version of that haiku, see this previous post.  I didn't much like Hamill's translation "Those falling blossoms / all return to the branch / when I watch butterflies" and, while looking for another, I stumbled on this poem, which I believe may also be by Moritake

           their moves
learned from falling petals
         butterflies 

I really love this poem; I'm gonna see if an old man can learn some moves from falling petals. Here is another version of Moritake's "falling blossom(s)"

A fallen blossom
come back to its branch?
No, a butterfly!

Moritake

That's much better.  Perhaps, the Hamill translation is of a different poem?  No way to tell, since the original is not included.


To pick a mere 3 poems to highlight of 42 seems mighty stingy, yet there you are.  I went back and read the section a couple of times - there are some lovely images and ideas, perhaps if I was in another mood, but the section ended up being slightly disappointing.  There is another poem familiar to me - perhaps this is an appropriate way to close:

Just when the sermon
has finally dirtied my ears-
the cuckoo

Shiki

That and everything else being said, though the last section is disappointing, there are so many great renditions in The Sound of Water that it is worth many more times what it's going for ($3 plus bucks) for on used book sights like abebooks.  It can be slipped in a hip or shirt pocket; Issa, Buson, Bashō, and all tend to be pretty good company in the doctor's office, or the woods, or on the bus. 

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This week's featured poem comes from Lilliput Review #127, November 2002.

Morning View From A Rainy Room

there is nothing I
must do a voice
floats warmly
by fine rain
and steam and tea hot
bath I shiver
petal on the path.

Mark Jackley

going outside
plum blossoms dive in...
my lucky tea

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue 

Google translator version: "Department included jumping out of a plum, if"

best,
Don

PS  Get 2 free issues     Get 2 more free issues     Lillie poem archive

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 74 songs
Hear all 74 at once on the the LitRock Jukebox

Subscribe to Lilliput Review