Autumn Poems: Winds Of Autumn - Poem by Saigyo

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Winds Of Autumn - Poem by Saigyo

Even in a person
most times indifferent
to things around him
they waken feelings
the first winds of autumn

Comments about Winds Of Autumn by Saigyo

  • Frederick Kesner 3/8/2018 10:45:00 PM

    Interesting depth and personification, layer upon layer in so few lines. Reply

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  • Fabrizio Frosini 6/2/2016 1:47:00 PM

    Saigyo’s poetry is characterized by sudden and unexpected insight.
    Here's the Buddhist attitude of discovering profound meaning in a single moment.
    This poem is very close to the following Saigyo's waka:

    Even a person free of passion
    would be moved
    to sadness—
    autumn evening
    in a marsh where snipes fly up.

    45 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini 6/1/2016 6:45:00 AM

    here, too, with a little modification, the syllabic pattern in the translation of this tanka would be respected [= 5 6 5 5 6, and not 6 6 5 5 6 syllables]

    Still in a person
    most times indifferent
    to things around him
    they waken feelings
    the first winds of autumn

    61 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini 6/1/2016 6:34:00 AM

    the buddhist monk Saigyo is not completely ''Zen-focused'' here.. A great Poet! Reply

    Fabrizio Frosini (6/1/2016 11:13:00 AM)

    indeed, my reference to Zen is not correct, as Saigyo was an Amida Buddhist priest

    About AMIDISM:
    '' In part as a response to the esotericism of Heian Buddhism, and in part as a response to the collapse of the emperor's court at Kyoto and the subsequent rise of individual, feudal powers in Japan, medieval Japanese Buddhism moved towards more democratic and inclusive forms, of which the most important was Pure Land Buddhism. Pure Land or Amida Buddhism was oriented around the figure of Amida Buddha. Amida, the Buddha of Everlasting Light, was a previous incarnation of Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha. In the previous incarnation, as a bodhisattva, he refused to accept Buddhahood unless he could grant eternal happiness in the Pure Land to whoever called on him; this compassionate promise was called the Original Vow. Anyone who calls his name, Namu Amida Butsu, with sincere faith, trust, and devotion, will be granted by Amida an eternal life of happiness in the Pure Land which has been set aside specifically for those who call on Amida. ''

    64 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
Autumn Poems
  1. 1. Ode To Autumn
    John Keats
  2. 2. Autumn
    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  3. 3. Autumn Song
    Sarojini Naidu
  4. 4. Autumn River Song
    Li Po
  5. 5. Autumn Day
    Rainer Maria Rilke
  6. 6. Autumn Song
    Dante Gabriel Rossetti
  7. 7. Autumn
    Rainer Maria Rilke
  8. 8. Autumn Moonlight
    Matsuo Basho
  9. 9. Autumn Within
    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  10. 10. Autumn Movement
    Carl Sandburg
  11. 11. Autumn Valentine
    Dorothy Parker
  12. 12. Autumn Daybreak
    Edna St. Vincent Millay
  13. 13. Autumn
    Charles Baudelaire
  14. 14. AUTUMN (November)
    Walter de la Mare
  15. 15. Autumn
    John Clare
  16. 16. Autumn Birds
    John Clare
  17. 17. Autumn: A Dirge
    Percy Bysshe Shelley
  18. 18. Autumn Fires
    Robert Louis Stevenson
  19. 19. Once Upon An Autumn Day
    Joseph T. Renaldi
  20. 20. Autumn
    Thomas Hood
  21. 21. To Autumn
    William Blake
  22. 22. Autumn Song
    Katherine Mansfield
  23. 23. Autumn Feelings
    Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
  24. 24. Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio
    James Arlington Wright
  25. 25. When Autumn Came
    Faiz Ahmed Faiz
  26. 26. Autumn - By Amy Boothby - Age 10
    Ernestine Northover
  27. 27. Autumn
    Siegfried Sassoon
  28. 28. The Death Of Autumn
    Edna St. Vincent Millay
  29. 29. Autumn
    Stevie Smith
  30. 30. A Day In Autumn
    Ronald Stuart Thomas
  31. 31. Autumn Flower
    Hebert Logerie
  32. 32. An Autumn Rain-Scene
    Thomas Hardy
  33. 33. An Autumn Evening
    Lucy Maud Montgomery
  34. 34. Autumn In The Garden
    Henry Van Dyke
  35. 35. Autumn&Mdash;Overlooked My Knitting
    Emily Dickinson
  36. 36. Autumn
    William Morris
  37. 37. Besides The Autumn Poets Sing
    Emily Dickinson
  38. 38. The Autumn
    Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  39. 39. Autumn Dreams
    Mary Naylor
  40. 40. Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 03 - Pre Autumn
  41. 41. Love In Autumn
    Sara Teasdale
  42. 42. Winds Of Autumn
  43. 43. Autumn Gust
    s./j. goldner
  44. 44. A Song Of Autumn
    Adam Lindsay Gordon
  45. 45. Autumn Perspective
    Erica Jong
  46. 46. Autumn Bound
    Sandra Fowler
  47. 47. Autumn
    Walter Savage Landor
  48. 48. Autumn
    Amy Lowell
  49. 49. Autumn Poems
    Alison Cassidy
  50. 50. Autumn Is A State Of Mind
    Sandra Fowler

New Autumn Poems

  1. "The Last Leaf", Eden Trinidad
  2. Mr. Autumn, Curtisj Johnson
  3. Ancient Haiku Translations, Michael Burch
  4. Live Life Asahap, SY Wong ...
  5. Zen Death Haiku, Michael Burch
  6. Life-Giving Autumn, Varghese Kuncheria
  7. Autumn, Jon Yttri
  8. The Red Autumn., SY Wong ...
  9. 1342 Poem Autumnal Fever In Canada, me poet yeps poet
  10. Basho Translations, Michael Burch

Autumn Poems

  1. Autumn River Song

    The moon shimmers in green water. White herons fly through the moonlight. The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts: into the night, singing, they paddle home together. Li T'ai-po tr. Hamil

  2. Autumn

    Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain, With banners, by great gales incessant fanned, Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand, And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain! Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne, Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land, Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain! Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves; Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended; Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves; And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid, Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

  3. Ode To Autumn

    Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours. Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--- While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

  4. Autumn Song

    Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,    The sunset hangs on a cloud; A golden storm of glittering sheaves, Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,    The wild wind blows in a cloud. Hark to a voice that is calling    To my heart in the voice of the wind: My heart is weary and sad and alone, For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,    And why should I stay behind?

  5. Autumn Day

    Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. Lay your shadow on the sundials and let loose the wind in the fields. Bid the last fruits to be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them to ripeness, and chase the last sweetness into the heavy wine. Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore. Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time, will stay up, read, write long letters, and wander the avenues, up and down, restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.