<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[The Dish]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[http://dish.andrewsullivan.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[Andrew Sullivan]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://dish.andrewsullivan.com/author/sullydish/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[A Poem For&nbsp;Saturday]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p><a href="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg"><img data-attachment-id="240053" data-permalink="https://dish.andrewsullivan.com/2014/05/17/a-poem-for-saturday-100/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b/" data-orig-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=580&#038;h=386" data-orig-size="1024,683" data-comments-opened="0" data-image-meta="{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;}" data-image-title="12195571073_30ceda4b45_b" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=580&#038;h=386?w=300" data-large-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=580&#038;h=386?w=1024" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-240053" src="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=580&#038;h=386" alt="12195571073_30ceda4b45_b" width="580" height="386" srcset="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=580&amp;h=386 580w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=150&amp;h=100 150w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=300&amp;h=200 300w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg?w=768&amp;h=512 768w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/12195571073_30ceda4b45_b.jpg 1024w" sizes="(max-width: 580px) 100vw, 580px" /></a></p>
<p>Dish poetry editor Alice Quinn writes:</p>
<blockquote><p>I first began reading W.S.Merwin’s poetry in 1970. I remember sitting at a counter at a Zum Zum’s coffee shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts and wildly underlining poems from his book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0689101929/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&amp;creativeASIN=0689101929&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;tag=thdi09-20&amp;linkId=SEOKKWPB5LXCXCMJ"><em>The Moving Target</em></a>. Twenty years later, he inscribed my tattered copy in my office at <em>The New Yorker</em>, where he had been publishing poems since 1955 and where, to my delight, I had become the poetry editor. W.S. Merwin has written more than two dozen collections of poems and eight books of prose. His memoir, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1593760345/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&amp;creativeASIN=1593760345&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;tag=thdi09-20&amp;linkId=75RSDN2HTJGZMJVG"><em>Unframed Originals: Recollections</em></a> is one of my favorite books and is still in print. He is also a famously gifted translator and his newest book, co-translated with Takako Lento is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1556594267/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&amp;creativeASIN=1556594267&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;tag=thdi09-20&amp;linkId=HU67PU7CBNRRI7FV"><em>Collected Haiku of Yosa Buson</em></a>, who lived from 1716-1783, and is regarded on a level with Basho as one of Japan’s greatest poets.</p>
<p>Today and over the weekend, we will be posting poems and songs by Buson, beginning with three from a sequence he introduced as follows: “One day I set out for my old village to visit an old friend. As I crossed Yodo River and came to the Bank of Kema, I met a girl on her way back to her hometown. We traveled several miles, sometimes I went ahead of her, and sometimes she walked ahead of me. Once in a while we looked at each other and exchanged a word or two. She looked beautiful. Pity me for feeling attracted to her. I composed 18 songs, titled ‘Songs of Spring Breeze Over Kema Bank,’ in which I speak in her person, and express her feeling.’”</p></blockquote>
<p>Our first selections from Yosa Buson (1716-1783):</p>
<blockquote><p>On the way down the riverbank to pick flowers<br />
thornbushes get in my way<br />
why are they jealous of me<br />
they tear at my kimono and scratch my thighs</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">*</p>
<p>Now I have seen three Springs<br />
since I left my old place<br />
and my little brother<br />
I am like a plum blossom<br />
on a twig grafted<br />
onto a different tree<br />
my roots forgotten</p>
<p style="padding-left:30px;">*</p>
<p>I think of my gentle mother<br />
long long ago now<br />
my gentle mother’s blossoms<br />
from the spring of another world</p></blockquote>
<p>(From <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1556594267/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&amp;creativeASIN=1556594267&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;tag=thdi09-20&amp;linkId=W3P5SO6XIYFQVAXI"><i>Collected Haiku of Yosa Buson</i></a>, Translated by W.S. Merwin and Takako Lento. Copyright © 2013 by W.S. Merwin and Takako U. Lento. Used by permission of The Wylie Agency, LLC. All rights reserved. Photo of plum blossoms by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/aidanmorgan/12195571073/in/photolist-jzFuoM-7HZ1Kp-jzEcLc-dWZBNu-jzFtKH-jzHj3W-jzFtUk-e8fewL-jzH2nS-dWZBQ9-7J3W8W-e8fgqu-61f4aC-dX4Ggb-orD1-dWDRik-dVN7L3-jzHiTh-jzGj4s-orDu-9qdJwK-byYsEa-jAa6VV-5ZSpeg-e24pZP-e24q6t-7J42Km-5ZWAd3-5ZWsBA-5ZWybE-5ZSkSP-7F8sz2-sQWt-sQWo-63xyrv-63xLFe-9dP748-5ZWz43-63BPcS-5ZWued-8ihFv4-kjD59G-4yggMx-5ZSgFi-5ZSjKB-5ZWqaY-7G1vFV-brdAhr-jzDBD4-abXks2">John Morgan</a>)</p>
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