the deeper I go
the deeper I go
green mountains
– by Santoka Taneda (1926)
That Haiku is one of my most favourite. It has been rumbling around my head for weeks, months or longer. I’m not exaggerating when I say that it comes to the front of my thoughts many times each day. It’s as close to perfect as you can get, in my view.
The above Haiku was written by Santoka Taneda almost one hundred years ago (by the way, I think this is the first time I put a Haiku on Nature’s Reverie that I did not write myself). He was famous for many of his Haiku, notably writing ‘free verse’ and he lived an extremely difficult and tragic life. A few years ago I bought a book of his works (called All My Walking) and the translations were done by Burton Watson. There are other translations available, including this one:
going deeper
and still deeper
green mountains
And while I like that one, I think I prefer Burton Watson’s take. I’m not really sure why but I think the same repeated first line just works so beautifully.
Why do I love it so much?
I see it as being lost in your thoughts, you mind, perhaps dark places, perhaps whirlwinds of emotions. You go deeper. And deeper. It’s a whirlwind and endless storm that you cannot escape from. Perhaps waking in the middle of the night and working through your thoughts and ideas and emotions and love and pain and hurt and confusion and perhaps joy, too. And as you think and reflect and ponder you go deeper, and deeper. And when you travel – literally or figuratively – the journey takes you deeper, further, and along that well worn path, that never-ending road. It takes you deeper, and deeper, and deeper.
And then suddenly, there, in front of you is a gift.
The green mountains. Lush, rich, verdant. Strong, solid, in place, rooted, firm, and magnificent. The end of your journey, or perhaps the beginning of a new one. A destination, but one that is peaceful and caring. Above the horizon, reaching up and stretching out with that perfect angle of repose on each side. With a peak, beckoning and calling your name. Grounding you. Anchoring you.
Nature, and those mountains, pull you from your inner depths. The mountains grab you, offer perspective, and their bigness reminds you in the best possible way of your smallness. You can walk beneath that mountain and not bother it. Its presence calms you. The green mountains are perfect.
What does it mean to you?
© Christopher M Buddle 2024
Nature's Reverie 