in my new robe
this morning
someone else.
if i'd the knack
i'd sing like
cherry flakes falling.
yellow rose petals
thunder
a waterfall.
faceless bones
scattered in the field,
wind cuts my flesh.
first winter rain
i plod on,
traveller, my name.
fields,
mountains of hubaku
nine days spring.
spring rain
under trees
a crystal stream.
do not forget the plum,
blooming
in the thicket.
pretending to drink
sake from my fan,
sprinkled with cherry petals.
under the cherry
blossom soup,
blossom salad.
drizzly june
long hair, face
sickly white.
winter downpour
even the monkey
needs a raincoat.
poet grieving over shivering monkeys,
what of this child
cast out in autumn wind?
poor boy leaves
moon viewing
for rice grinding.
violets
how precious
on a mountain path.
bright moon:
stroll around the pond
hey, dawn has come.
moon daubed bush
lover in the next room
snoring prostitutes.
spring through
morning mist,
what mountains there?
now darkness falls,
quail chirps,
what use hawk eyes?
cormorant fishing:
how stirring,
how saddening. | summer moon
clapping hands,
i herald dawn.
rainy days
silkworms droop
on mulberries.
old pond,
leap-splash
a frog.
buddhas death-day
old hands
clicking rosaries.
autumn even
birds and clouds
look old.
insect song over
winter's garden
moon's hair-thin.
pommelling hail
like the old oak,
i never change.
such fragrance
from where,
which tree?
while moon sets
atop the trees,
leaves cling to rain.
girl cat,
so thin
on love and barley.
awaiting snow,
poets in their cups
see lightening flash
year's end, all
corners of this floating world,
swept.
loneliness
caged cricket dangling
from the wall.
spider, are you
crying or
he autumn wind?
mirroring each other:
white narcissi,
paper screen.
how i long to see
amongst dawn flower,
the face of god.
coldest days
dried salmon,
giant pilgrim.
new year
the basho tosei
hermitage abuzz with haiku.
now cats done mewing,
bedroom's
touched by moonlight.
another haiku?
yet more cherry blossoms
not my face. | samurai talk
tang
of horse radish.
friends part forever
wild geese
lost in cloud.
dying cricket
how full of life,
his song.
south valley
wind brings
a scent of snow.
dewdrops
how better wash away
world's dust?
summer grasses,
all that remains
of soldiers dreams.
you the butterfly
i, chunang tzu's
dreaming hears.
how pleasant
just once not to see
fuji through mist.
what stroke of luck
hawk spied above
irago promontory.
from the heart
of the sweet peony,
a drunken bee.
tomb, bend
to autumn wind
my sobbing.
sick on a journey
over parched fields
dreams wander on.
wake, butterfly its late,
we've miles
to go together.
early autumn rice field,
ocean,
one green.
clouds
a chance to dodge
moonviewing.
bird of time in kyoto,
pining
for kyoto.
noon doze,
wall cool against
my feet.
atop the mushroom
who knows from where
a leaf
snowy morning
one crow
after another.
come, see real
flowers
of this painful world. |
