The dictionary is the play of reflections without origin, in which a word can only be defined by other words. We go to it seeking the "meaning" of words, and it refers us to other words, over which it also claims mastery while simultaneously performing the chaos lying beneath that claim of mastery. Occasionally this anarchy—this an-archy, lack of origin—strikes us, and we catch a glimpse of something in or about words that can't be mastered by a dictionary, nor by us, something that is—sit down—not a meaning. Something outside of concepts. According to Roland Barthes, this is as close as a Westerner can get to understanding the essence of Haiku. It is not meant to have meaning, nor to be interpreted. This does not 'mean' it says 'nothing.' As Basho wrote:

How admirable he is
Who does not think "Life is ephemeral"
when he sees a flash of lightning

Felix Culpa