[Disclaimer: The original post can be found here with minor edits in this version.]
Saigyo seems to have been a master of his own genre, a poet with skills unrivalled by others. I do not really have a wish to write much about him — just wanted to post one of his poems.
When facing crises,
what will be gone completely are
thoughts of their perfect beauty —
that of blossoms known intimately
in the sage emperor’s palace.
Quite nice, in my opinion… Also, it seems to fit the general tone of my being at the present moment. Although those thoughts of perfection are near-completely gone…
‘And what are they replaced by?