I do not call his transformation to some sort of symbolism from romanticism an advance to a higher poetical plane–it is simply his line of evolution. And I see a delightful change in Iwano of to-day. But somehow I suspect that in his idea and poetry he is lusting after strange gods and kneeling to them in too free adoration. I even declare that he offends sometimes, but without any bad intention against good taste and discretion; and I espy that he appears quite glad in his own action. It is not a rebellion in his case by any means, but a revolution. But what is the saddest thing with this Iwano is that he has lately stopped singing; he is squandering his own talent and passion on novel-writing and criticism. It is not alone myself that wishes his return to poetry.
There are other names who have helped to make this new-styled poems or Shintaishi a strong literary force and brought it to the present development–for instance, Hakusei Hiraki, who grasps a large subject and executes with a rigid construction and handsome but passionless rhetoric; Tetsukan Yosano, whose life-long training in Uta-writing made his poems terse, and whose experience of life flashes sharp; Suimei Kawai, whose calm rhythm and tender beauty of feeling might suggest a Longfellow; Kagai Kodama, whose Byronic fire and surprise cannot be overlooked; and Gekko Takayasu, who is the singer
