I am a writer in Tokyo

Chapter 17 Who is Kazuki Xiaoyuan?
"Oshima, do you know what you're talking about?"

The editor-in-chief's expression changed instantly, but Kazuya Oshima turned around calmly, with a more intense smile on his face.

"Of course I know, and I'm doing it myself."

"Dassaiya haiku is the dagger that kills history. In fact, this thing should have been done a long time ago. Before I talked with Xiaoyuan teacher, it should have been the most beautiful haiku, and it was ridiculed by everyone. Cheng Haixie is dead.

Don't you think it's a shame for us editors who dig authors? "

The editorial department became dead silent at this moment.

One of the characteristics of Neon people is that they seem to have some love in their lives, and this love will make them full of enthusiasm for their work.

It seems that in the eyes of others, this is very secondary, but there is no doubt that this is a kind of original intention.

In fact, many people choose to join the editing industry, and most of them have such a passion.

As the oldest literary journal, the trendy old editors have more or less been in charge of Haixie.

If there is such a regret in their hearts, it is probably because Haixie cannot help them.

Oshima Kazuya continued talking.

"Actually, the problem is not with us, it is that this era has been ruined. Everyone is indulging in luxury and money, so who will take those elegant foods into haiku?

It seems to be gone, there is nothing to bring into haiku.

Over time, it's gone.

If it is said that the form of haiku is still to be retained, is it true that it exists in name only?

At this time, there needs to be such a person to change.

In a way, this change is difficult, so it is difficult for this person to appear. "

What Oshima Kazuya said was not unreasonable, but what he said was a bit too scary.

It's like some people in the academic circles say that the rhythm of ancient poetry should be changed so that modern people have time to write poetry, and they call a sentence or two a poet.

Among other things, an originally high-end poet can become mediocre.

The reason why some things are high-end is that it is very difficult to write him, but isn't it just to lower the threshold and reduce the difficulty?
Is it necessary to make the word poet anyone can crown it?

This is a big disrespect.

But no one stood up against Kazuya Oshima openly.

The reason is simple.

A tree in the courtyard.

What he wrote seems simple, but not so simple.

The editor-in-chief took a close look at those big islands and what are also called haikus right from the start.

Indeed, from a metrical point of view, writing poetry has become much easier, but this is more like a feeling of simplicity.

It is not ordinary people who want to write simple things into poetic beauty.

Snails, toads, frogs; eminent monks, poop, flowers; birds, clouds, summer; falling rain, etc., melons.Autumn rain borrows umbrellas, everything is Zen.

Xiaoyuan Yishu puts specific and tiny ordinary things and details into poetry, and extracts poetry from unpoetic images.

His haikus are Zen-like and leisurely.

For the editor-in-chief, the sentence written by Kazuki Xiaoyuan: "Where there are people, there are flies and Buddhas".

He juxtaposes extreme beauty and extreme ugliness, poppies and flying butterflies, summer cicadas and autumn moons, ancient temples and eminent monks, often juxtaposed with vulgar excrement and fart, but there is no contradiction in the grotesque, but it is more spiritual and dynamic. Between stillness and stillness, moment and eternity, there is a high-level elegance.

This feeling is not only the feeling of the editor-in-chief, basically all readers feel the bleakness of autumn, but they also see the beauty of the world in the bleakness.

It seems that such a person has never appeared.

Not before, now...

The editor-in-chief and other editors seem to understand why Kazuo Oshima is so confident.

Whoever had such an author backing him would probably have a lot more confidence than Kazuya Oshima.

Maybe, it's better to attack the city directly with powerful means.

Looking at it this way, Oshima Kazuya is actually more stable.

The phrase layman watches the excitement, while the insider watches the doorway.

The editors discuss more high-end writing techniques, but other readers pay more attention to the body of the poem and how well it is written.

"I wrote about surviving/surviving—how cold it was, and about the cure for this messy world—late cherry blossoms.

I couldn't read haiku before, until I read this book, it is really full of momentary beauty, but it is not the beauty far away from life, but the clarity full of life. "

"I really like the haiku of this small courtyard teacher. It is full of vigor and bitterness of life."

"I thought poetry could not enter the soul, but it was quite a rich experience to think of more than [-] different pictures through these short sentences. 'This world is like walking on hell and staring at the flowers'"

"A haiku is like a summer breeze, a winter fireplace; just right."

"I don't know what teachers in the small courtyard look like in real life.

But I think he should have experienced a lot.

In these haikus, he is a filial son who lost his family, a widower who lost his wife, a new father who lost his son, a bard who couldn't bear to look at flowers...

The world of exile is complicated, why does he accept these pains with a smile?
It turned out that he had turned into a brat who pissed at will in the mountains, a fighter with swords and bows ready to fight against mosquitoes, and a romantic comedian who raised lice on his body and "talked to them"
It doesn't seem to be about Zen.

However, he has written all the tastes of life, so he naturally reveals the faintly hidden Zen meaning~~"

Who can think that a person who brings all the good things in the world, walks to you and tells you, don't be afraid and don't get tired, he is here.

All were healed.

On this snowy winter day.

It seems that the yellow of the street lamp has been ironed with warmth, and after being roasted, it turns into hot miso, and then slides down and falls into the stomach.

Warm, I only know that it is very warm.

In the poems, the teacher of Xiaoyuan greeted everyone, prayed for blessings, and told the beauty of the world.

Those lonely souls wandering the streets late at night, those homeless people who can only curl up next to convenience stores, those men who were defeated by life and then pretended to be fine because of it, those men who went out to work for the survival of their families woman...

When they looked up and saw the light, it seemed as if the teacher of the small courtyard came from inside and said good night to them.

At that moment, the world was silent, the heavy snow stopped, and my heart was completely quiet.

Then when everyone was intoxicated in this peace, they suddenly realized something.

That is……

Who is Kazuki Xiaoyuan?
However, Oshima Kazuya, who knew the real answer to this question, was sitting in the shop at the moment.

Watching the sweaty Bei Daoju shuttle between the tables, serving tea and water more and more proficiently.

"You, really..."

(End of this chapter)