Where is Truth? Where is Light?”
Sometimes questioning:
“My poetry begins with the tireless songs of the cricket, on the lean grey-haired hill, in sober-faced evening.
And the next page is Stillness——
And what then, about the next to that?
Alas, the God puts his universe-covering hand over its sheets!
Master, take off your hand for the humble servant!
Asked in vain:——
How long for my meditation?”
But it is impossible with the quotations permissible in an article to give an adequate presentment of a poet whose poems are so separate that a hundred of them do not suffice for his expression. Noguchi has, like Verlaine, escaped the wisdom of experience; his latest moods are as sky-clear as his first, different though they are in technique and in feeling. Each one of them is a glint of light from a diamond; it is impossible, but in seeing innumerable glints together, satisfactorily to perceive the diamond itself.