Fragmentos del diario que escribió Taneda Santoka entre agosto y octubre de 1940. Recogidos, directamente, de la traducción realizada por William Scott Wilson, para el libro "The Life and Zen Jaiku Poetry of Santoka Taneda".
[PRIMERA PARTE]
I go out to the post box for a moment and buy some vegetables on the way. Two large eggplants for five sen, one large cucumber for five sen. The daikon was expensive, so I didn't buy it -one for twenty sen, they said.
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Literature is man. Poetry is his soul. If the soul is not polished, how will the poetry shine? The brilliance of the verse is the brilliance of the soul. This is the light of man.
The more I think about it, the more I feel keenly that my existence has no value. I, who am totally unproductive, cannot help feeling this.
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No money -and this is because I'm so slovenly so often- but I'm not lacking in gratitude. I've done a good number of things I'm sorry for, and even today I had no excuse for the man who came to collect payment for the electric bill. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
It seems a good bit of tobacco has arrived at the tobacco shop.
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It's because I'm without talent or genius that I've been able to single-mindedly devote myself to my one thread of a road -the path of making verses. I've been capable of doing anything else. The problem is in whether I will actually do it or not. I concentrate all of my body and all of my strength into achieving my own things.
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Recently, no matterwhat shop I go to, they're all out of matches. I can rarely even pick up cigarette butts anymore. Sort of sad.
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In the afternoon we went to the hot springs at Dogo. A bath and then a cup of sake. And then one more cup. This sent things awry. With one more cup and then another, I was in big trouble. I was, in fact, reduced to jelly. Ah, ah.
The wretchedness of humankind. And my weakness. Lying down just as I had fallen and gazing up at the sky. I denounced and incriminated myself endlessly.
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Today's shopping list:
82 sen - 2 sho of mixed rice.
5 sen - postage stamps.
7 sen - 1 go fo soy sauce.
5 sen - 1 cucumber.
10 sen - iriko.
Money left over was exactly 1 sen.
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I'm alive. Or better said, isn't it a fact that the reason I'm not dead is because I borrow money from my close friends in every direction and load them with trouble?
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- Being poor is painful, but borrowing money is twice as painful.
- Being poor is not necessarily something to be ashamed of.
- Being poor in your mind is something to be ashamed of. The secret of life as far as I'm concerned is in the following three conditions:
- Do not lose a sense of moderation.
- Do not borrow money..
- Do not be attached to the past. Have no hopes for the future. Appreciate each day, one after the next, and enjoy it all.
I do not beleive in the world to come. I release the past. I simply believe in the present, the immediate present, with all my heart.
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My table is poor, indeed. I'm frequently lacking vegetables and sometimes have no rice at all, but that does not pain me in the least. What I am always complaining about concerning my meals is the fact that my stomach is big - way too big. And then there's my craving for alcohol. With te desire for just one cup, an alcoholic voracity is born.
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Morning, noon and night, I'm always thinking of haiku. I even make haiky in dreams. Above and beyond being a haiky poet, I am someone whose walking, stopping, sitting and lying down are all thoroughly haiku.
And being this way, it's easy to think about death.
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I make preparations for sending off the seventh collection of haiku. I only make preparations. I have no money for stamps.
I received a cucumber, an eggplant and a melon from the abbot at the temple. How kind, how gracious. Goods grown by hand are bright and shinning. I'll spend the day eating through the cucumber. Just like a grasshopper.
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I thought about the character of haiku:
- Simplification - to be as simple as possible.
- Self-purification - the body and mind are one.
- Regulations of life - inherent regulations - natural regulations.
- The union of self and other - fusion of subject and object.
the flow of nature
rythm
the sway of life
- Totality and the individual - to grasp eternity by means of the moment. Then to express oneself using the totality and the individual. To express totality through the individual.
- Symbolic expression is impossible without stepping into the symbolic world.
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A haircut. A bath. A walk. Ah, I feel great!
Sake is sweet. So sweet.
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In the afternoon, I go to buy tofu. I'll make it last by cutting into cubes. It's a poor meal, but the flowering plant I stuck in the jar adds some elegance.
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I didn't have the money to buy clogs, so I didn't go outdoors.
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I flattened a cockroach that had been crawling around inside the mosquito netting. Later, I felt totally cheerless. Hey! Old cockroach! Where did you come sneaking out from? Your friends aren't around here, you know.
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I go out to the post office - barefoot - first I buy some clogs. Then, some tobacco; then, of course, two or three cups...
It's been five days, I guess. During that time, bean-jam buns, chikuwa fish cake, etc.
Taneda Santoka. Diary of the One-Grass Hut. "The Life and Zen Jaiku Poetry of Santoka Taneda". Sumita Oyama. Trad. por William Scott Wilson. Turtle Publishing. 2021.
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