Moon, come down and
come alone. I have to tell you all
about Akechi’s wife. -- Bashō
Yesterday was our anniversary, of many years. I think of all that passion at the beginning, rocking back and forth between joy and fear that it might suddenly prove ephemeral. But for those of us now long married, that tempest has been transformed into something more reliable. Rituals, that are ordinary, daily, subtle. So how beautiful and exquisite is this reflection by Bashō, the itinerant poet-monk of 17th century Japan, on the love between two people whose relationship is wide and deep -- quietly full of intimate gestures.
"So worn out, not even sure I was on the right road, I forgot myself awhile watching in weary amazement as his wife came and went, the two of them giving the impression of having long perfected some grave and complex dance known only to them, one of accord and the affection of two people moving hand-in-hand in the same direction, both possessed by desire while knowing themselves to be the source of that desire." Bashō, translated by Franz Wright.
Read the entire piece here at Poetry Foundation.
Art: Goyo Hashiguchi. 1920. "Woman in Blue"