Remembering the loved ones

That day...

there were round words those that rolled in between us

from your side of the table towards mine

when winter was melting away

it is true, it is true, you then said,

as if truth were what we were after

we talked of setting each other free

as if freedom were what one lacked

your lips, the smell of new books, your voice

although I never asked what you most adored

that day when winter was fading away

taking another sip you already knew

missing me was not going to be easy

and then I poured you yet another cup

waiting for that winter to turn into spring

A thousand fathoms deep

“May it grow to a thousand fathoms,” said Genji.

“Mine it shall be, rich as the grasses beneath

The fathomless sea, the thousand−fathomed sea.”

Murasaki took out brush and paper and set down her answer:

“It may indeed be a thousand fathoms deep.

How can I know, when it restlessly comes and goes?”

She wrote well, but a pleasant girlishness remained.

(Murasaki Shikibu: The Tale of Genji)

After a while Spirit Woman came, very beautiful and singing, and this is what she sang

With visible breath I am walking.

A voice I am sending as I walk.

In a sacred manner I am walking.

With visible tracks I am walking.

In a sacred manner I walk.

With visible breath I am walking.

A voice I am sending as I walk.

In a sacred manner I am walking.

With visible tracks I am walking.

In a sacred manner I walk.

[The story of White Bison Spirit Woman 

as recounted by the great medicine man Black Elk; 

Black Elk, in Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks, pp. 3-4].