There was a time, long ago, when I was writing tanka poems.
It was the dawn of the website, when there was no such thing as blogs.
I simply pasted a few poor tanka poems on top of an image.
The title of the homepage was “Kacho Fugetsu” (flower, bird, wind, and moon)…it was cold.
There was no such thing as PV yet, and there was a counter system to count the number of views.
I continued to write tanka poems and upload them once a week for about six months. During that time, the total number of views did not even reach 100.
I was not only disappointed but also completely demoralized and faded out. About a year later, when I had forgotten that I had even opened a homepage, I received an e-mail from a stranger.
I read it and was very moved by one of the tanka poems I had posted on my homepage. I hurried to check the tanka poem on the website. It was a poem about a sparrow shivering in the midwinter cold.
The tanka was, as I said myself, not at all interesting, nor was it well written, just an ordinary tanka.
However, I had never been praised by others for my own works, and I was so happy that I immediately replied to the person in question with an e-mail thanking him for his kindness. Then, I resumed the website.
However, the person did not reply to my e-mail, and the count on my homepage did not increase at all.
I wondered, “What was that all about? Was it just a case of being left out? Gradually, I began to think, “What was that all about?
Eventually, perhaps because of this disappointment, I quit writing tanka poems altogether. If the correspondence with that person had continued and the count on my homepage had increased, I think I would still be writing tanka poems in small pieces.
I wonder if I really had a talent for tanka or not. Do I really like tanka or not? In the end, I am not sure. This experience made me think that being praised half-heartedly has a bad influence. I guess that’s what it means.
See you soon.
