Spring is always the shortest season. It is also the hardest season to stay inside and work . . . the sun calls to us.
This year we leaped from winter to spring in three days flat. Now it is the glorious season of pink trees, and it will not last, I know it will not last . . . .
The Japanese understand Spring, and all the seasons, very well. Here is an entry from one of my favorite books:
Aware [a-wa-reh] (noun)
An awareness and appreciation of the ephemeral beauty of the world. The seasons change, the cherry blossom gently falls, the crops are planted, grow, and die. Aware is that poignant sensation one has of time passing, of the inevitable cycle of life and death. From the noun comes the idiom mono-no-aware. Roughly translated as "enjoying the sadness of life," it's that bittersweet, vaguely poetic feeling you get around dusk, on a long train journey, looking out at the driving rain . . . a few autumn leaves still clinging to your coat.
Christopher J. Moore, In Other Words: A Language Lover's Guide to the Most Intriguing Words Around the World, Levenger Press (2004), p. 87.
I leave you with a poem by e.e. cummings:
i thank you God for this most amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of a sky; and for everything which is infinite which is natural which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birthday of life and love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any - lifted from the no of all nothing - human merely being doubt unimaginable you?
(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
This year we leaped from winter to spring in three days flat. Now it is the glorious season of pink trees, and it will not last, I know it will not last . . . .
The Japanese understand Spring, and all the seasons, very well. Here is an entry from one of my favorite books:
Aware [a-wa-reh] (noun)
An awareness and appreciation of the ephemeral beauty of the world. The seasons change, the cherry blossom gently falls, the crops are planted, grow, and die. Aware is that poignant sensation one has of time passing, of the inevitable cycle of life and death. From the noun comes the idiom mono-no-aware. Roughly translated as "enjoying the sadness of life," it's that bittersweet, vaguely poetic feeling you get around dusk, on a long train journey, looking out at the driving rain . . . a few autumn leaves still clinging to your coat.
Christopher J. Moore, In Other Words: A Language Lover's Guide to the Most Intriguing Words Around the World, Levenger Press (2004), p. 87.
I leave you with a poem by e.e. cummings:
i thank you God for this most amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of a sky; and for everything which is infinite which is natural which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birthday of life and love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any - lifted from the no of all nothing - human merely being doubt unimaginable you?
(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
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