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
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)