Sea of Clouds (the art of change)

The November sun
Dazzles our faces with eyes closed
The bright glow of coloured leaves
Is not of this world
Here, today
It is another universe
That looks like the world
As it is
Of islands, rivers, mountains, oceans
A monochrome universe
Emerges from the stone
Expanding my mind
Falling on the moss
Like shooting stars
The maple leaves
Swept by the autumn wind
Or by the gardener
In the twilight
From the path of Yoshida Hill
I walk along the candlelight on the ground
A black butterfly
As big as my hand
Escapes from the darkness of the undergrowth
- Or is it a bat?
A tiny tea house
Above the bamboo grove of Kodai-ji temple
Under the full autumn moon
That illuminates the scarlet maples
And the cold of a night
Full of promise
Drop after drop
The basin of water fills
With the inebriation of life
Under the amazed gaze
Of a wise man silent
Like the passing of time
Small granite monk's heads
In a sea of green moss
Smile at life
As well as to death
Autumn rings hollow
Under the crackling sound
Of leaves tinged 
With the past
I watch my thoughts
Reflected in the clear water 
Of the lotus pool
Then floating
Like a sea of clouds
In a distant sky.

Manabeshima

Under the clouds diving into water
The absence of a new beginning
In the middle of this inland sea
Calm as a shoreless lake
I consider the possibility of an island
Swaying in the wind
- A solitary jellyfish!

Kiyotaki or the valley of bliss

The number eight bus abandons me at the curve
Stone stairs going down
Stone stairs going up
The face of the Buddha is invisible
In this mountain temple
The Japanese maples smile
Behind their faces scorched by the sun
And the coolness of the mountain nights
Stairs again and again
The sound of a Japanese lute
Makes the humid air vibrate on the river
I follow the path that follows the water
Climbing over blunt rocks
And suddenly the sight of a vermilion bridge
Amidst the vermilion maples
A man is fishing with a line
Sitting on the granite pebbles
As in an old print by master Hiroshige
- The hanging bridge of dreams.

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These poems have been translated from French by the author. The book Rêves d’un mangeur de kakis is available from the publisher (www.michikusapublishing.com) or directly from the author.

For other writing by Robert Weis, see Mind Games in Arashiyama, or 71 Lessons on Eternity. For more on his travels, see his account of a walk from Ohara to Kurama here, or his spiritual journey to Kyoto here. His account of Nicolas Bouvier in Kyoto in the mid-1950s can be read here.