Basho impersonated a member of the cloth because Sora was into that sort of thing.

Yesterday, around evening, it suddenly went from a warm sunny day with flurries to a cold damp rain, and I became morose.

 

I remember the soft snow

drifting down through the sunlight

before the sky went dark

 

I want to talk about my difficulty with the weekly assigned poems. I know they’re certainly not the same caliber as the ones written by Basho, but this is more of a question concerning process. You say in your book that “much artifice went into the writing” and that their creation did not “necessarily happen as noted.” (Inouye, 74) But in class you express that they are spontaneous works of emotion. My problem, though, is that I have always expressed my emotional elation in traditional prose, and the poems themselves don’t really *happen* organically. Instead, I take a sort of mental image, and spend a long time afterward trying to remember it as well as possible. Is there a better way? Moving on, I like that he dressed like a priest, but “was neither a priest nor an ordinary man,” because that’s what the protagonist of Preacher does to indicate he is a man who lives to aid his fellow men, rather than a man of god. (Inouye, 79) ┬áSora, on the other hand, strikes me as a an oddly religious fellow. He names himself “religiously enlightened” (Basho, 101) , and drifts into concepts of gods, holiness, and the divine in his later poems. Specifically, “What divine instict/ has taught these birds/ no waves swell so high/ as to swamp their home?” (Basho, 130) Which is kind of funny, because of course birds’ nests get swallowed by waves! You just can’t TELL there have been any nests there. I also wanted to point out something another student mentioned in class. The poem on 132 concerning “concubines and I-/ bush-clovers and the moon” seems to me to mean that he identifies so closely with the concubines and their earthly profession, that all of them are simply beautiful bushes undearneath the midnight moon.

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