A rainy sunrise today, a wet morning. The air and the earth are cleansed and renewed once again by water. May your life be cleansed and renewed as well, my friend, and mine, too. A rainy sunrise, a cleansing, renewal. A fresh start.
I talk to my son in dreams, because in dreams he isn’t dead. We embrace each other and we say the words, as we once did when we were both awake, when we were both alive. Dreams, like life as it once was, as it will never be again.
Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all?
We are each other's magnitude and bond.
If he had had no education, maybe Basho could have been a much greater poet.