lanterne

soufflant
les chandelles des mas
tu emportes les oliviers
et te glisses dans la nuit
alors qu’elle met un arrêt
à la marche des collines
vers la mer

paupières arrachées
tu éclaires aux spectres
la grand-route
qui tombe dans la paix

breeze

palm-leaves’ rustle
unending

waves on the shore
breaking

bird psalmodies
myriad spirals
loosened in the air

traveller
its the same book
erring
we write
writing
we efface

drinking light of sands
pouring into the eyes

calls
recalls of emptiness

élan

no fear
I shall return your call
frightening though
these heights
where your calling
makes me soar

then the fall
into the precipice
where
whispering stones
golden rivers
into silence flow

it is one to live
one to die
to be released
roam with shadows
with these melodies
from distant shores
you stream inside

sutra chanting

predawn sitting
then one by one
waking the patriarchs
for the daily call

none missing

its still dark outside
where mountains begin
valleys end
in this mantle of snow

wheeling rings of light
sink
behind the giant boulder

benumbed in this cold
never ending grieves
who's heart
stinging the fingertips

datsu raku

body
left behind
mind too
shed
in a barren tree

moon-bathing now
in purple twilight

standing with you
erring with you
cleared of attainment
dying with you

and I look at your stone
my own true face
as it snows over
the last colour of grass

chronos

heavy snowfall
on mountain slopes

sitting on a flat stone
beneath a stooping pine

is it
was it

time itself
is it
was it

span of its sway
over us
we the blind
divesting darkness
of orphaned nebulae

else
else than an erring cloud

timeless

no matter in what state
the old Buddha’s mind
I’ve always been here
sitting
in the palm of his hand
heart flooding
with grieving and love

Ps 104:2

beacons
eyes roaming
in the dark

what farthest
they illumine
deserts
just deserts
beckoning

sisters out there
whimpering stars
hard to console
staring from
empty doorways

foliage
adorning
a wheeling
tapestry

further
creation

thirsting chaos

adieu

there goes the moth
night’s sole companion
entering the circle of flames
sound of wings scorching
still echoes in the mind

not now but then
mourning begins whenever
a world comes to an end

sleepless
crouched in a cold bed
unable to write verses
in memoriam of
Jacques Derrida

echo

clouds capping mountains
slowly darken the valley
from northern ranges
sounds of thunder echo

crickets swarm the hawthorn
thistles drip with violet

it’s September
some cool is coming
udumbera
when shall your buddhas
rebloom again

poetica

perhaps the last
these waning words

a pitfall
to think

ono
moto
moto po
motopoeic

help the breeze
ply soaked branches

wings outspread
soaring now
above wanting
and abundance


with the drizzle
taming the stiff herbage

mute
spiritless
murmuring
with the thousand holy ones

annunciation

light
sky-light
wind-light
opening to receive
chimes
of your homecoming

sea-bright
sea a lightening
floods the eyes
tides unfurling
an infinity
breaking
on breathless cobbles

with ebb and flow of prayers
blind and heaving
I invoke you
you whirling voice
release your storms
release your chants
unseal visions of
captive emerald

mirage

all night long
sound of rain
falling
on sleepless grass

dripping through lids
these winter furrows
where from updrafts
I try to shield a soul

from faraway
erred till here
drawn by these vapors
pearling on the pane
all night long

somnambule

pour voir plus clair
les stries du sort
je laisse la mare des nuits
me remonter les veines

fabuleux fond bleu
tes yeux émergent

brusque ciel
où se dessinent

des hirondelles
un vol éteint

l’écarlate trouble
de ton sommeil

et de ta peau
les frissons dorés

face to face

its destiny you said
encounter of destinies
should one time we meet

it is an overnight stay
in a run down hermitage
stars spread over the sky
they greet your dark flame
hidden sorrow of the sea

you see my hour go blind
you see tides roll over me
for I have to step aside
to let your echo pass
in the rising mountain

requiem for a fly

on the eve of nativity
you pass the gateway
unbaptized
dates unrecorded

I lift you from the floor
take you down to the garden
embed you on a golden leaf

the cold is behind us now
you can ease your wings
side by side
we listen to the rain
as she dissolves us
in the sombre grass

that night in Mandrem

the village deep asleep
your face slowly flaming
with glow of candles
you kept rekindling
with glow of the wind

rougher now somehow the sea
left with straying tumble-weed
i chase among shipwrecks
early mornings on the beach

not questions' glint
it’s the sea
her foaming tides
inviting me to deeps
never thought in reach
when you left my hand
somewhere in the dark
that night in Mandrem

sansukyo

its summer solstice
you lead me to this peak
where thunders clap
storms gather
before each going
its lonesome way

you open your hand
in your palm I see rivers
blue mountains flowing
its a scripture
where I read

from one word
all paths emerge
same path
wither all words return

its an old word
you keep repeating
making me appear
disappear
when night falls
reappear

la part du feu

are you any closer now
blind rays of summer days
massively collapsing
over serrated rocks
horizon reeling behind
your floating locks
in tide whisperings or

shaded by an olive tree
old grove where mistrals
convened ages to shape
into twined lyres
the saddened heart of trees
strings snapping
as they sing

your eyes reflect
shivers
of pulverized growth

beyond choosing
ablaze
shed images of you
cracking
the ineffable lamp

appel

de cette coulée de lave
comment t’extraire
toi
feu
au feu abandonné

aiguisé
par le cri des mouettes
virevoltant
au-dessus des hauts-fonds
amour
lame refleurie
des abîmes du vent tu reviens
décharger tes débâcles en moi

là
encore debout sur cette grève
la peau ébréchée
par ta parole

for niemand

with drifting dawns
that borrowed voice
mine
within yours
meandering

drowned in troubled waters
your voice now remembering


balmy breeze rises
a kingfisher
broods on his palm-leaf
watching hours ripple
on endless backwaters

alluvium
our voice
alluvium
mine into yours
sinking

closing in
we are closing in
no one
on fault lines of
reason

logos

a full moon illumines stones
and sleepy pebbles
strewn on mountain pathway
grasses and hedges
gleam with frost

voice
the silent voice listens
obeys
the procession of silvery clouds

hereon your kingdom commences
jewelled branches your crown
let sombre tree shades
guide you to the frozen heart
where an austere throne awaits you
among shattering mirrors
myriad

Nachtscharf

digging out the cut
dark decreeing
wound tending
erased from mind
heart-flutters
flight chronicles
merrily creeping
around the moaning pit

etwas Nachtscharf
das nicht fliegen kann

Point Venus

can no longer recall
an early winter poem I wrote
on that south sea island shore

for the same wave washes
what trace we leave on the sand
unfolds our riddled hearts
as we drown to fathom the sea