Pine haiku (1st of February 2011)

(Issa, translated by D.G. Lanoue)

Pine. A strong tree. A tree of the planet. It is everywhere, from the harsh, snow covered Japanese mountain to the tame shores of Mljet lakes. But it is not the same pine. There are more than 100 species of pine, many of them in Croatia also. I just remembered generous, huge pines in Kampor, Rab, in the region where an Italian fascist concentration camp was organized during the war. I remember memorial inscriptions, decaying stone and iron and large pine cones full of sweet and waxy seeds (we call them pinjoli in Croatia, from italian pinoli - pine nuts). What an unusual, in the same time nice and horrifying contrast...

The strength of the pine made it a subject of haiku poetry, but also of folk songs and poetry all over the world. The song "In the pines" is an American folk song which originated sometime in year 1870, and about fifteen years ago it was powerfully performed by unfit and unhappy blond guy that became an icon of the rebellious youth of our time. Although I didn't like him much while he was in his artistic prime, as time goes by... perhaps I value his work a bit more.

A modern technology does not let us forget him, and perhaps it is better that way, although I sometimes wonder about all that I have witnessed and how times and people changed. Here is how it was performed by Kurt Cobain:

Still, I like softer pines. Sweet-smelling pines whose shade does not host cold wind and the sunshine passes just as much as I like. The sea diamonds made of torn up light are carried by almost completely silent waves. One can hear cicadas. I do not want to be anywhere else but here. This is my version of "In the pines"...

(Issa, translated by D.G. Lanoue)

In the evening, both pine and I got older together. I am leaving in hope that sea will wash up the golden leaves of the setting sun on the shore.

Last updated on 1st of February 2011.