#241 Beside me, the autumn grasses seem to speak —
| Size： | approx. 33×24 cm |
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| Dressing： | framed |
About this Waka (Poem)
| verse: | Katahara ni akikusa no hana kataruraku horobishi mono wa natsukashiki kana |
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| (imho): | Beside me, the autumn grasses seem to speak — how dear are the things that have perished. |
| poet: | Wakayama, Bokusui |
| in: | 1911 |
While standing alone at the ruins of Komoro Castle in Shinshu (present-day Nagano Prefecture),
Bokusui felt as though the autumn grasses beside him were whispering,
“Those who have passed away are dear to us.”
It is a quiet, nostalgic reflection on impermanence and memory.
A Casual Reflection
The ruins of Komoro Castle are now known as Kaikoen, a historical park loved by many visitors. It is said that this very poem by Bokusui is engraved directly into one of its old stone walls. I once visited Kaikoen myself, yet I completely missed it at the time.
In this poem, Bokusui’s gaze rests gently upon things that have decayed or passed away.
For the calligraphy, I chose decorative paper in the colors of an autumn sunset. On that paper adorned with simple, lovely autumn grasses, moved my brush so that the lines would flow naturally—as if the grasses themselves were gently swaying in the breeze.
Someday, I would like to return to the stone wall of Kaikoen and remember this poem once more—to listen quietly, beside the autumn grasses, to what time itself may have to say.