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Zinovy Vayman




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1998 .
 


Haibun for Zina

Zina is the daughter of my childhood friend who is far away in Russia. Often I see my friends features in her.

it goes into the pit
with the old dangling roots
the slender sapling

Tonight she sits at her new couch and clicks TV channels.
She finds a pastoral idyll with a baboon family. They all nibble on something like greens and roots. They are our close relatives. I always see the primates as proof of our inborn vegetarianism.
All of a sudden a huge baboon catches a baby gazelle. He walks around and eats it live in a kind of slow motion. Tall birds slowly land and stand erect and strong.
Zina leaves the room. She cannot stand it.
The female baboon patiently waits for the leftovers.
Smaller birds on the ground increase in numbers.
And it is over.
I recall Issas haiku:

in this world
we walk on the roof of hell
looking at flowers

It helps.
What if I replace the word morning with the word raspy in my recent three liner. It becomes:

birds are chirping
I try to sing too
raspy voice

Is it better.
An odor familiar since childhood fills the room. Zina cooks liver and onion with spice. I want to leave but instead I open the window. We are having a great time there are jokes, anecdotes, and even a new visitor.

unexpected visitor
she lets me touch her
springs first fly

april 1998

translated by Zinovy Vayman

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