You asked me what it was all about,

Why men and women dwelt so much

On the slanting tangents

Of come vague philosophy

And what I felt it was, and why

It was like this?

Dark boats silhouetted 
sail along

one bold winter moon
shines

always bent in pure reflex
those hands

move with the pacing breeze
twisting

between ropes, yardarm and cloth
deep woes gather

A sad piper

played his pipes across my heart;

They were reedy pipes that played,

playing the wind

droning the bees

rocking the river

along those dark-spined banks

overgrown;

So we saw the grim legions of

Our generation destroyed.

How we mourned them.

Are you, then, shattered and distressed,

Torn apart to see that ruthless scythe deployed?

What are they laughing at?
The clouds making no vows,
In the morning, in the evening,
How easily they pass over
The stone bridge spanning the valley.
( Japanese Waka, 18th C)