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In this ever changing world where mountains crumble, rivers change their courses, roads are deserted, rocks are buried, and old trees yield to young shoots,
it was nothing short of a miracle that this monument alone had survived the battering of a thousand years to be the living memory of the ancients.
I felt as if I were in the presence of the ancients themselves, and, forgetting all the troubles I had suffered on the road, rejoiced in the utter happiness of this joyful moment, not without tears in my eyes.
Narrow Road to The Deep North - entry 19
The Travel Diary of Poet Basho
1644-1694
(no subject)
Date: 2011-04-23 12:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-04-23 04:39 pm (UTC)