| spring
rain---
all things on earth
become beautiful
waterweed
floating away, despite
the butterfly’s weight on it
a dandelion
now and then interrupting
the butterfly’s dream
moonlit night---
out on the stone
a cricket singing
loneliness
lies within the listener---
a cuckoo’s call
The passing year
--
irritating things
are also flowing water.
cool clear water
and fireflies that vanish
that is all there is...
moon flowers!
when a woman’s skin
is revealed
fragrance of the
orchid -
even to the grass
far away
on her day off
the prostitute wakes up alone
the night's chill
morning glory -
the truth is
the flower hates people
stars' meeting
which one
speaks first
over the flowing
water
chasing its shadow -
the dragonfly
I wonder in what
fields today
He chases dragonflies in play
My little boy who ran away
Chasing dragon flies
Today what place is it
he has strayed off to?
green leaves or fallen
leaves
become one---
in the flowering snow
each sound of
the temple bell is different
in the wind
one must bend
in the floating world -
snow on the bamboo
staring
at my snow-white reflection
in the water
tea flowers---
their blooming
delays the dusk
offering daffodils---
my eyes can't tell
which are flowers, which is snow
leaves like bird
shadows
desolate---
the winter moon
mistaking birds
for leaves--- lonely
a winters moon
on moor and mountain
nothing stirs
this morn of snow
it’s play for the
cranes
flying up to the clouds
the year’s first sunrise
|
to
tangle or untangle
the willow---
it's up to the wind
rouged lips
forgotten---
clear spring water
evening temple bell
stopped in the sky
by cherry blossoms
the moon's shadow
also pauses -
cherry blossom dawn
on the ebb tide beach
everything we pick up
is alive
rain clouds ---
the frog
puffs his belly out!
fishing rod
its line brushed
by the summer moon
Grazing
my fishing line --
the summer moon
again the women
come to the fields
with unkempt hair
morning glories
---
awakened
in the middle of a dream
purple cloud
isn't it the same color
as the iris?
moonflowers ---
the beauty
of hidden things
the coolness ---
on the bottom of her kimono
in the bamboo grove
To the one breaking
it ---
the fragrance
of the plum.
Since morning glories
hold my well-bucket hostage,
I beg for water
The morning glory!
It has taken the well bucket,
I must seek elsewhere for water. .
only in the river
darkness flows:
fireflies
green grass---
between the blades
the colour of water
squatting
the frog observes
the clouds
dawn’s separation
unknown
to dolls
Airing out kimonos
as well as her heart
is never enough.
Just for today
using men
for rice-planting
A hundred different
gourds
From the mind
Of one vine
From the mind
of a single, long vine
one hundred opening lives
(death haiku)
I saw the moon as well
and now world
"truly yours..."
I’ve seen the moon
I sign my letter to the world
-- Respectfully yours-- |
