This weekend was a lot more fun than I was expecting it to be. I had a wonderful time debating with Erin and I am happy that I was able to do my last 6 debate rounds ever with her. She isn't just a fun debate partner, she is a truly wonderful friend. I plan to blog more about this weekend later, I think I am still trying to process everything in my brain. It is difficult when an activity ends, especially something that I have been fairly active in for 8 years now. It's not just the end of debate though, this is the beginning of a lot of ends and good-byes. The next few months are going to be difficult, but also very exciting. An odd contradiction of feelings and emotions.
I found some interesting poems about Cherry Blossoms and today is so beautiful it just seems appropriate to put them on here:
Asked
what the true Japanese spirit is like,
I would answer,
it is the mountain cherry blossoms
smelling in the rising sun.
--Motoori Norinaga (1730~1801)
(translated by Takashi Nonin)
Poem (translated by Tsuge Gen'ichi)
Peacefully
The Second Month has come
Full upon us.
Mountains, far as the eye can see,
Enshrouded in mist;
The light green filament boughs
Of the willow weaving
A spring brocade
Unknown in the capital.
White clouds?
Blossoms?
Let us follow
The cherry blossoms,
Our hearts full
With anticipation.
Departing from the blue,
Geese fly back
To Koshiji
In the north
To their mates;
Their wings
Fragrant with blossoms,
They vanish in the clouds
Leaving a plaintive cry behind.
We halt for a moment,
Reluctant
That they should leave us.
Carriages in procession,
One after another
To view the first blossoms.
Those who have met
Those who have not met
All are friends of the blossoms.
Acquainted,
Unacquainted -
All sit together
Under the blossoms.
Heedless of passing time
We spend
The long spring days
In listless abandon.
The flowery sleeves
Of our long-loved robes
Are fragrant with cherry blossoms.
The fields, the hills -
Nor valley nor vale
Do the flowers
Not reach.
Tumbling
Down the mountain ledges,
A fall
Of one thousand streams
Like strands puppeted
By the Goddess of Spring.
Were there no falls
We would cross over
And cut the blossomed branches
Before the temple bell
Brings sunset.
Let the mists not hide the blossoms
Even if the wind blows.
I found some interesting poems about Cherry Blossoms and today is so beautiful it just seems appropriate to put them on here:
Asked
what the true Japanese spirit is like,
I would answer,
it is the mountain cherry blossoms
smelling in the rising sun.
--Motoori Norinaga (1730~1801)
(translated by Takashi Nonin)
Poem (translated by Tsuge Gen'ichi)
Peacefully
The Second Month has come
Full upon us.
Mountains, far as the eye can see,
Enshrouded in mist;
The light green filament boughs
Of the willow weaving
A spring brocade
Unknown in the capital.
White clouds?
Blossoms?
Let us follow
The cherry blossoms,
Our hearts full
With anticipation.
Departing from the blue,
Geese fly back
To Koshiji
In the north
To their mates;
Their wings
Fragrant with blossoms,
They vanish in the clouds
Leaving a plaintive cry behind.
We halt for a moment,
Reluctant
That they should leave us.
Carriages in procession,
One after another
To view the first blossoms.
Those who have met
Those who have not met
All are friends of the blossoms.
Acquainted,
Unacquainted -
All sit together
Under the blossoms.
Heedless of passing time
We spend
The long spring days
In listless abandon.
The flowery sleeves
Of our long-loved robes
Are fragrant with cherry blossoms.
The fields, the hills -
Nor valley nor vale
Do the flowers
Not reach.
Tumbling
Down the mountain ledges,
A fall
Of one thousand streams
Like strands puppeted
By the Goddess of Spring.
Were there no falls
We would cross over
And cut the blossomed branches
Before the temple bell
Brings sunset.
Let the mists not hide the blossoms
Even if the wind blows.
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