Kenneth Rexroth was a highly-regarded poet and influential leader
of the San Francisco School of poets in the 1950’s (but he pleaded innocent to
the suggestion that he was a Beat Poet!) In One Hundred Poems from the Japanese, he offers
a history of Japanese poetry from the significant period of the 700s to the late 1100s, through translations of the works of major figures. All of the poems are short, characteristic of
Japanese poetry; haikus were a later form that Rexroth did not value as highly,
and he offers only a few famous examples in an appendix).
Many of the poems,
read alone, are strikingly lovely and/or thoughtful:
When I left my girlIn her grave on Mount HikiteAnd walked down the mountain path,I felt as though I were dead.
The meaning and significance
of the poems is immensely enhanced by Rexroth’s introduction and by notes on
many of the poems, discreetly located at the end of the book. I had been unaware of some important themes
and devices that, when explained by Rexroth, opened entirely new perspectives
on what had seemed to me to be beautiful but simple moments in nature:
Though the purityOf the moonlight has silencedBoth nightingale andCricket, the cuckoo aloneSings all the white night
In a note, Rexroth briefly explains the significance of the
different birds in Japanese literature; for example, the cuckoo “is also supposed
to be a spirit from Hell, and, again, symbolizes the pleasures of the flesh,
courtesans and prostitutes, sacred and profane”. He suggests that this poem could mean “The
salvation of Buddha has enraptured both the householder and the monk or nun,
but the prostitute worships in her own way, all through the night.”
A very rewarding book.