The Bridge at Sakanoye

Perhaps one year the river rose
and never fell, or else the storm
had been so furious
the current on either side
tore out the steps and the rail
and carried way the beams.

Pushed back by the river,
on one side Hitomaro,
on the other Basho.

The bridge remained;
but now we stoop
to roll our pantlegs up
above our knees, where once
its two sides met
the opposite banks.

Your shoulder baskets full of
dried fish and shrimp,
you hurry on to the other side.

For a moment I stand
where I touch
neither earth nor sky.