“Just as Ryokan’s life is inseparable from his poetry, the translation’s clarity of diction is inseparable from the sensitive brushwork on each page. A book to be gazed into again and again.”—Charlotte Mandel, Small Press What shall remain as my legacy? The spring flowers the cuckoo in summer, the autumn leaves. Ryo kan (1758–1831) was a poet, master calligrapher, Zen hermit, and is one of the most beloved poets of Japan. Instead of becoming the head of a Zen temple, he preferred the simple and independent life of a hermit. Ryokan’s poetry is simple, direct, and colloquial in expression.
Ryōkan Taigu (1758–1831) was a quiet and eccentric Sōtō Zen Buddhist monk who lived much of his life as a hermit. Ryōkan is remembered for his poetry and calligraphy, which present the essence of Zen life.
Ryōkan lived a very simple, pure life, and stories about his kindness and generosity abound. However, even though he lived his simple and pure life, he also displayed characteristics that under normal circumstances would be out of line for a normal monk.
I enjoyed this book and the translations, however, it would have been a much more valuable book with the original poems in Japanese at the end of the book for reference.
This is the fourth Ryokan poetry book I've read this year. It's led me to the conclusion that Ryokan (1758-1831) isn't that great if you want poetry, but if you like memoirs of old Japanese Zen masters who live in isolated, rundown cabins in the mountains, then they're pretty fun.
What makes this book distinctive are illustrations made specifically for this translation. They're just OK. And it does a better job than some books with Ryokan's exchanges with Teishin, a Zen nun 40 years younger than him. Their poetry back and forth isn't great as poetry, but I just love their relationship. It always makes me happy imagining them sending a few lines to each other that were filled with deep meaning for the two of them (but not so much for us as the reader).
The poems here are translated differently than the three other translations so that's interesting. I can say they're solid. I suppose that's damning them with faint praise. They're good, and Ryokan complains a lot less about being lonely here than in other collections. Example picked at random:
Firewood bundled on my shoulders, I descend a steep path down the green mountain. Occasionally I rest awhile under a tall pine, listening quietly to the spring birds sing.
To be honest, I chose this one for Sealey Challenge because it was short. So glad that I did! I'd never heard of Ryōkan, but will continue to seek out his work in the future. This collection is a good mix of poems in different styles and lengths, many (most?) of which make the reader slow down, exist, and (un)think.