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Slide Notes

I decided you use "Blank Space" this this title and image for this assignment because of the content. Since this assignment teaches you on Shuntarō Tanikawa, life. The once "blank knowledge " you may known about him, slowly starts to paint a image of what he was like. Just like the image; the trees, start to slowly remailer out of the fog to reveal it's self.
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Published on Dec 02, 2015

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PRESENTATION OUTLINE

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Thai Dinh     PERIOD 6 
I decided you use "Blank Space" this this title and image for this assignment because of the content. Since this assignment teaches you on Shuntarō Tanikawa, life. The once "blank knowledge " you may known about him, slowly starts to paint a image of what he was like. Just like the image; the trees, start to slowly remailer out of the fog to reveal it's self.

Table of content's

  • My inspirations
  • Shuntarō Tanikawa information
  • Shuntaro's literature
  • Source page
Photo by -MRGT

My insperration

  • As a younger boy I was fortunate to grow up around the Japanese, culture because of my many Japanese, classmates that became close friends. Since I was a boy I basically soaked up and was very much so fascinated by the Japanese art forms which included martial arts, panting and other arts, cartoons and there amazing literature. I was deeply movied by the way Japnies poems struck the view of the world in a spiertail way. One person in particalar named Shuntarō Tanikawa.

Shuntarō Tanikawa

  • Shuntarō Tanikawa, born December 15, 1931 in Tokyo City, Japan . A Japanese poet as well as translator. He is one of the most widely known, regarded of living Japanese poets, both in Japan Several of his collections are translated into English, and his Melancholy. Tanikawa has written more than 60 books of poetry. His style usaly cocnsists of world was pomes since being a servivor of world war.

Shuntarō Tanikawa INSPIRING poems

  • “Twenty Billion Light Years of Loneliness”
  • "MY SLUDGE"
  • "A MIRROR"
  • "River"
  • “Sunset”

River

  • Mother, Why is the river laughing? Why, because the sun is tickling the river Mother, Why is the river singing? Because the skylark praised the river’s voice Mother, Why is the river cold? It remembers being once loved by the snow. Mother, How old is the river? It’s the same age as the forever young springtime. Mother, Why does the river never rest? Well, you see it’s because the mother sea Is waiting for the river to come home.

A MIRROR

  • Yes, this is the guy I call “watashi”— Two tiny eyes and two common ears, one nose, one mouth. Though I can’t see at all what’s inside, maybe it’s all a terrible mess. Anyway, I’ve put on another year. I will say, “Many happy returns!” The sun also rises today and Mt. Fuji soars just fine. So I, too, live on not worrying— of course, with you and each and every living creature.

The sluge

  • It’s no use floundering in the heart’s shallows. I must dive deep into my heart to discern my own sludge. Hypocrisy, flattery, ignorance greed— These have piled up within me even if I’ve regarded myself free of them. Things I’ve thrown away keep gathering. Things which will never decrease….

“Twenty Billion Light Years of Loneliness”

  • Mankind on a little globe Sleeps, awakes and works Wishing at times to be friends with Mars. Martians on a little globe Are probably doing something; I don’t know what (Maybe sleep-sleeping, wear-wearing, or fret-fretting) While wishing at times to be friends with Earth. This is a fact I’m sure of. This thing called universal gravitation Is the power of loneliness pulling together. The universe is distorted So all join in desire. The universe goes on expanding So all feel uneasy. At the loneliness of twenty billion light years Without thinking, I sneezed.
Photo by Mariano Kamp

Sunset

  • Sometimes I reread poems I wrote long ago I don’t ask textbook questions like “what was the author feeling when he wrote this?” When you write a poem, there is nothing but the feeling of wanting to write a poem Even if I wrote that I am sad I know it doesn’t mean that I was sad at the time It’s difficult to read my own poems critically I had nearly forgotten them, and while they don’t belong to someone else, they can’t possibly be mine How best to take responsibility is utterly lost on me Sometimes, unawares, I find myself moved by my own poems Poetry ignites the lyricism that lies hidden within people You might say it does so brazenly and without shame I’ve heard that Saul Bellow said one of the most essential purposes of literature Is to pose ethical questions But the truth which poetry strives for is different from that of novels Rather than the progression of time, poems concern themselves with moments But while rereading my poems I think to myself I can’t write like this A day is made up of more than the sunset I can’t live merely standing there before it No matter how beautiful it may be

The sound

  • Sound, We often only here what we want to here. We forget, all that is around use. The only way that we notice them is to hear their cry's
  • To the little sounds of the pencils scribbling away on paper paper or the vibrations of vibrations of wheels passing by your window to the little sounds such as the little sounds of the of the water hitting the concrete. There are also sounds that come unnoticed such as the sound of you blood flowing through you head to your toes or the sound of the world deep sound that comes from the depth of the earth.
  • By Thai Dinh
Photo by uBookworm

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