It was one day in March. I met him for the first time at age 20 in front of the gate of university. I had sent him my writings beforehand. He replied to me with full of joy as if he were excited to find a young talented poet ie me.. He was then 50. It was just three years after he became an assistant professor of French language. We went to the coffee shop near the university. He glared at me once in his big glasses.
He said we must admit your talent in writing. You wrote a very theoretical one. I was amazed to read your text and my works remain in history though many others disappear.
It was one day in September. At age 30 I saw him at his study in the university. He was 60 just before the retirement. He said it has not yet decided which university he would teach. He was about to leave the university soon. He said it is very unusual for me to find a person like me in that I am very cheerful while I must have had a devastating event. At that time I was totally devastated by hearing the news of her marriage. He said he has two types of guests, one who went to the extreme and ..I forgot the another one.
This became the last time we saw.
Probably I had oppotunities to see him around he was 70. He was still teaching at another university.
Few days ago I knew he had been dead in January last year -2007. I lost already two doctors who recognised me in literary world, but he was the best teacher I ever had who understood me correctly.
I knew his wife was a granddaughter of the famous Akiko Yosano, tanka poet for the first time in Wiki. I was talking with her ordinarily.
Yoshio Abe died at age 74 in 2007. He was the only teacher who understood me. His word appears again and again after I knew his death. Word is immortal.