Saturday, June 22, 2013

Organic Farm Poetry from Japan

Preparing for Tokyo I just visited the translated web page of Mr. Kaneko Yoshinori's Shimosato Farm in Ogawa cho town, Saitama prefecture.

While looking around the farm's webpages I picked this poem out of the jumbled automated translation of a farm trainees story. - It is about the trainees plan to make a book of the farming experiences and life experiences to share with farmers in Cambodia. - It is not clear who the author is so I cannot give proper credit but in the original text the author thanks the farmers Kaneko Noboru, Tomoko, Ishikawa, and Chigusa, as well as the fellow farm trainees learned together, and the people of Shimosato farm and Ogawa cho town. Perhaps forwarding this appreciation on is enough.

Farm Stare Future; Farm Frost 

Organic farming, intuition, the way to live life,
Became me in the farm frost.
The thing clasped about, 
Blood smears from this hand.  

In youth, traveling through India, 
Watching cremations, much until night fall. 
Three days, from fall to rise on the Ganges, 
Continue to burn hours after catching fire in the body, 
Smoke aims up to heaven, 
Ash, flow and hover to the river.
Meat and bone remaining burnt, 
Dog food and cow lick. 

Among those who have seen such a sight, 
Consciousness 
In me, all life that I have led was born. 

Later, learning from local people in Cambodia. 
The important thing in life, without, at all, 
such a thing as power, 
such as position, 
such as honor, 
such as money. 

To value life, 
To live bright with the family, 
The people of the village, 
To live richly together,
To know such things 
Commonplace. 

The philosophy more than anything else, 
Is to cherish life. 

Agriculture, 
That there is only that day in and day out, 
To keep the stack small and steady. 

Agriculture, 
Bad things in themselves are also getting better, 
As the villagers say, 
The land is no good in spirit unless it is rich. 

And it is to the agriculture taken for granted, 
That will live on for granted. 
This village, 
Farmers, 
Children, 
Beauty, 
The living land and soil, 
And all the live beautiful strong richness of farming 


We light a lamp in one corner.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Tryin' On Clothes

When I was traveling around in Ireland I thought I would leave the delicious-food-and-Jamesons-filled confines of the Dublin couchsurfing ambassador's house to head over to stay for a few days on a nudist colony. - After chatting with the people at the nudist colony through CS a few times it made me think that it is not my scene. Plus Ireland is really too cold and rainy to be naked all day long, even in summer.

Anyway, I read this poem by Shel Silverstein at the time called 'Tryin' On Clothes' and thought of it as a silly nudist poem. Today I rather see it as a deep ecology poem about a true and close relationship between humans and nature. - The amazing diversity of outward expressions of identity and culture sometimes help us to have a deeper sense of place (i.e. indigenous clothing) but the majority of it seems to be about ego and consumerism (see 'the story of stuff'). - So it I see this as a poem about 'Tryin' On Clothes' in a deep ecology sense and perhaps allowing a kind of nudity of the ego and of outward expression in deference and connection to a true natural self and place.

I tried on the farmer's hat,
Didn't fit...
A little too small -- just a bit
Too floppy.
Couldn't get used to it,
Took it off.
Tried on the dancer's shoes,
A little too loose.
Not the kind you could use
For walkin'.
Didn't feel right in 'em,
Kicked 'em off.
I tried on the summer sun,
Felt good.
Nice and warm -- knew it would.
Tried the grass beneath bare feet,
Felt neat.
Finally, finally felt well dressed,
Nature's clothes fit me best.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Wicked Happy Old Farmer

Moldy photo of a wicked happy farmer in Laos chucking hay with a bamboo pitchfork.