The galaxy swings around
like a wheel of lighted smoke,
and the smoke is made of stars.
It is sunsmoke.
For lack of other words we call it sunsmoke,
do you see?
I don't feel languages are equal
to what that vision comprehends.
The richest of the languages we know,
Xinombric, has three million words,
but then the galaxy you're gazing into right now
has more than ninety billion suns.
Has there ever been a brain that mastered all the words
in the Xinombric language?
Not a one.
Now you see.
And do not see.
The first cold showers pour
Even the monkey seems to want
A little coat of straw
First rain of winter
A raincoat too
—Basho, from Sarumino, (The Monkey's Raincoat)