"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. Otaru Port

"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. The author

"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. Otaru City

"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. The gate of Otaru University of Commerce (former Otaru Highschool of Commerce)

"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. View of Yoichi City

"A Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man" written by Sei Ito. Trains run in the central area of Otaru city

Portrait of a Young Man as David

Copy of a Portrait of Ito Jakuchu

Portrait of a Young Woman

Portrait of a Young Woman

Portrait of Young Woman

Portrait of Young Woman

Portrait of a Young Girl, Eaton Place

"Youth" written by Yojiro Ishizaka. Around fishing port

PL.1 Portrait of a Poet [from "And They Called It Hanka (Envoi)"]

Caricatures of the Day: The bourgeois at the Salon: Let's see... What's that?... (reading from his catalogue) "No. 387. Portrait of Mr. B*** stock-broker"... well... well!... oh! how stupid I am... 386 is the portrait of Mr. B***, this is a portrait of a bull by Mr. Bracassat... I'd also say... that the idea of having yourself painted with horns as big as that... after that, you can't refuse a stock-broker anything

Ancient History 31: The fall of Icarus. As the sun roasted his wings, / His old scoundrel of a father, inventor of this contrivance, / Said, watching him fall through the eternal vaults: / Assuredly, this is no good (A poet who travels only by carriage)

Ancient History 18: Today's witticism. What is Diogenes doing with a lantern? / Said the elegantly turnd-out Dandies to themselves. / Sirs, I am looking for a man, and with my slow, dim eye. / I can't see him; said he: those words really annoyed them (Attempt at poetry by Mr. de Rambuteau)

(Left) The little village on the far mountainside was already out of sight, and spring was coming around again. The grape trees were like large ailing snakes creeping under the coping stones of the wall. A brown light moved about in the tepid air. The void created by the selfsame every day is likely to chop down even the young trees that were left behind. In this everyday life, a thicket of trees protrudes like a boulder. (Right) The village I lived in has never been thought of as so small. The sun showed itself. The tall poplar forest looks like a beach being blown about by the wind. I grow dizzy just watching that seamless succession. If I can manage to get drunk on this succession of unchanging days, I can also grow to feel like I have taken down an elephant or snake. He differentiated things in this way, like a fluttering butterfly