I was thinking about Japanese poetry the other day — seriously, when am I not thinking about Japanese poetry? — when I came across the following sentence:She also counts among the Thirty-six Poetry Immortals.
Did someone say Thirty-six Poetry Immortals?
This may be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.
The poetry immortal in question is Ono no Komachi, a poet of considerable skill, renowned for her striking beauty (so much so that her name entered the language as a synonym for “serious hotness”) and the subject of legends and lies, Noh plays and speculation.
And then, of course, there’s her poetry:Although I come to you constantly over the roads of dreams, those nights of love are not worth one waking touch of you.