
The mouse outcreeps
The flag out-peeps
Beside the brook.

The marmot sleeps
The owlet keeps
In his snug nook.

The ravens caw
The squirrels gnaw
The frozen fruit;

We track the feet
Of mice that eat
The apples root.

The alders stoop
The pheasants group
Beneath the snow.

Cast o'er the scene
A summer sheen
A genial glow.

The otter crawls
The partridge calls
Far in the wood

The tree-ice gleams
The blue jay screams
In angry mood.
Henry David Thoreau

.我宿や鼠と仲のよい蛍
waga yado ya nezumi to naka no yoi hotaru
my dwelling--
mingling with the mice
pretty fireflies
issa


I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.
I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!
Edna St. Vincent Millay

(only one living bird!)
haiku by issa, translation by David G. Lanoue from here
the sound of frogs...I live near the C&O Canal tow-path. I should go there more...but I've gone enough to discover this one small spot- a pond off the trail (just) & above the river. Rocks form a semi-circle around the back of it, a big triangular stone in the center...an amphibian amphitheater- when the frogs sing, it's amplified & bounces off the stones...the effect is amazing. I love standing there, while bicyclists zoom by, oblivious to the concert being performed there in the woods.
ReplyDeleteohhhh that sounds wondrous, evan. i wish i could visit. and i'm so glad you found it.
ReplyDeleteone year someone brought tadpoles to my pond and the evening choruses of the tree frogs mesmerized me. i even recorded it once or twice.
sadly, they only lasted a season or two....