On New Year’s Day
the morning in town
comes irregularly.
Anonymous
First winter kimono—
may you quickly grow to
a naughty age.
Issa
To my cat
a New Year’s card
from its vet.
Yorie
Unable to wrap it
and dropping the moon—
the winter rain.
Tokoku
Year after year
The monkey’s face
Is a monkey’s face.
Bashō
Cold moon—
the gateless temple’s
endless sky.
Buson
Heaven knows,
earth knows, every neighbor knows—
parents don’t know.
Shishōshi
First snow—
just enough to bend
the narcissus leaves.
Bashō
In the eyes of the hawk
over the withered fields
sits the winter storm.
Jōsō
Frozen together,
what are they dreaming?
sea slugs.
Seisei
Coming to the sea
the winter wind has no place
to return.
Seishi
When I finally die—
weeds
falling rain.
Santōka
How warm—
the shadows of withered trees
stretching out their arms.
Tei-jo
Even a horse
arrests my eyes— on this
snowy morrow.
Bashō
The rough sea
stretching out towards Sado,
and the Milky Way.
Bashō
Now then, let’s go out
to enjoy the snow ... until
I slip and fall!
Bashō
On the mandarin duck’s wings
a dust of snow—
such stillness!
Shiki
How amusing,
it may change into snow—
the winter rain.
Bashō
In the abandoned boat
dashing and sliding—
hail.
Shiki
There’s nothing
he doesn’t know—
the cat on the stove.
Fūsei
Snow has melted—
the village is full
of children.
Issa
On a mandarin duck
its beauty is exhausted—
winter grove.
Buson
Are my youthful dreams
still unfinished?
this morning’s frost.
Anonymous
Crescent moon warped
coldness
keen and clear.
Issa
Without a companion,
abandoned in the fields
winter moon.
Roseki
Cold moon—
among the withered trees
three stalks of bamboo.
Buson
Its saddle taken off
how cold it looks—
the horse’s rump.
Hekigodō
The sea grows dark
the voice of the duck
faintly whitens.
Bashō
Flowing down
ice crushes
ice.
Gomei
Red berries—
just one has fallen
frosty garden.
Shiki
Trampling on clouds,
inhaling the mist,
the skylark soars.
Shiki
Shallow river
twisting west and twisting east—
young leaves.
Buson
Winter seclusion—
from my wife and children
I too play hide-and-seek.
Buson
As lightning flashes
he strokes his head—
the toad.
Issa
Snow
falls on snow—
and remains silent.
Santōka
The winter storm
hides in the bamboo
and becomes silent.
Bashō
Wolves
are keening in harmony—
snowy evening.
Jōsō
If it had no voice
the heron might disappear—
this morning’s snow.
Chiyo-jo
Dawn—
the storm is buried
in snow.
Shirō
Withered by winter
one-colored world—
the sound of wind.
Bashō
The winter moon
trailing its white glow
leaves the mountain.
Dakotsu
The snake flees—
but the eyes that peered at me
remain in the weeds.
Kyoshi
Having children,
you understand—
but too late.
Anonymous
Wintry blasts—
blown off into the ocean
the evening sun.
Sōseki
The salted sea bream’s
teeth are also chilly—
fish-market shelf.
Bashō
Blistering wind—
splintered by rocks
the voice of the water.
Buson
Today is also ending—
at the bottom of the snowstorm
a gigantic sun.
Arō
Sad stories
whispered to the jellyfish
by the sea slug.
Shōha
Winter rain—
I’m not dead yet
Santōka
Bleakly, bleakly
the sun enters into the rocks—
a withered field.
Buson
Sharing one umbrella—
the person more in love
gets wet.
Keisanjin
Catching up
and looking at her—
nothing special.
Anonymous
Hearing footsteps
splitting in two
the shadow.
Anonymous
Waving umbrellas
“goodbye” . . . “goodbye” . . .
gossamer haze.
Issa
Rustling, rustling,
the lotus leaves sway—
a tortoise in the pond.
Onitsura
A whole family
all gray-haired with canes
visits graves.
Bashō
Owning nothing—
such peace,
such coolness!
Issa
These useless dreams, alas!
Over fields of wilted grass
winds whisper as they pass.
Onitsura
The warbler
sings upside-down
his first note.
Kikaku
“I’d never lose
in a sumo match”—
pillow talk.
Buson
Opening their hearts
ice and water become
friends again.
Teishitsu
The spring sun
shows its power
between snowfalls.
Shigeyori
Domestic ducks
stretch their necks
hoping to see the world.
Kōji
The tiny child—
shown even a flower
opens its mouth.
Seifu-jo
Spring rains—
a child teaches the cat
a dance.
Issa
Spring river—
a tiny wooden clog
floats by.
Haritsu
Each plum blossom
brings a single blossom’s
warmth.
Bashō
Without a word
the guest, the host,
white chrysanthemums.
Ryōta
The morning breeze
ripples the fur
of the caterpillar.
Buson
As the lake breeze
cools his bottom
the cicada cries.
Issa
Alone, silently—
the bamboo shoot
becomes a bamboo.
Santōka
Spring rain—
blown onto the bush
a discarded letter.
Issa
How delightful
walking on dewy grasses—
straw sandals.
Haritsu
Planting my buttocks
on a huge taro leaf—
moon-viewing.
Haritsu
Both partners
sport whiskers—
cats’ love.
Raizan
Flea bites—
while counting them, she nurses
her baby.
Issa
Worse than tears—
the smile of the
abandoned child.
Anonymous
Forsythia—
and radiant spring’s
melancholy.
Mantarō
The kimono for flower-viewing—
disrobing, I’m entwined in
a myriad of sashes.
Hisa-jo
The old pond—
a frog leaps in.
Sound of the water.
Bashō
Pear blossoms—
a woman reads a letter
by moonlight.
Buson
Spring sun
in every pool of water—
lingering.
Issa
Daybreak—
the whitefish whiten
only one inch.
Bashō
White plum blossoms
return to the withered tree—
moonlit night.
Buson
The child on my lap
begins to point at
plum blossoms.
Issa
The warbler
wipes its muddy feet
on plum blossoms.
Issa
In daytime “darken the day”
at night “brighten the night”
frogs chant.
Buson
Overflowing with love
the cat as coquettish
as a courtesan.
Saimaro
Spring moon—
if I touch it, it would
drip.
Issa
Spring chill—
above the rice paddies
rootless clouds.
Hekigodō
Joyful at night
tranquil during the day—
spring rain.
Chora
Motionless
in a crevice of an old wall—
a pregnant spider.
Shiki
Is the dawn, too,
still embraced by
hazy moon?
Chōsui
Lead him slowly!
the horse is carrying
the spring moon.
Watsujin
While I ponder
a snail
passes me by.
Anonymous
Spring rain—
I gave my yawn
to the dog at the gate.
Issa
The bright moon—
out from the sleeve
of the scarecrow.
Issa
A camellia falls
spilling out
yesterday’s rain.
Buson
With each falling petal
they grow older—
plum branches.
Buson
On the surface
of petal-covered water—
frogs’ eyes.
Fōsei
The trout leaps up—
and below him in a stream
clouds float by.
Onitsura
Come out!
you can almost touch
the spring moon.
Tei-jo
Squeaking in response
to baby sparrows—
a nest of mice.
Bashō
One sneeze—
and I lost sight of
the skylark.
Yayū
Skeletons
covered with adornment—
flower viewing.
Onitsura
Flower petals
set the mountain in motion—
cherry blossoms.
Hōitsu
Not in a hurry
to blossom—
plum tree at my gate.
Issa
The tree frog
riding the plantain leaf
sways.
Kikaku
Plum blossoms—
“Steal this one here!”
points the moon.
Issa
Spring passing—
looking at the sea,
a baby crow.
Shokyō
Only Fuji
remains unburied—
young leaves.
Buson
Mountain ant—
seen so clearly
on the white peony.
Buson
Spring rain—
just enough to wet tiny shells
on the tiny beach.
Buson
The cuckoo calls—
and the waters of the lake
cloud over a little.
Jōsō
On the hydrangeas
the weight of the morning sun,
the evening sun.
Otsuyū
Spring is passing.
The birds cry, the fishes’ eyes fill
with tears.
Bashō
The retreating shapes
of the passing spring—
wisteria.
Kana-jo
A child on my back
I picked a bracken shoot
and let him hold it.
Kyōtai
Under the trees
into the salad, into the soup—
cherry blossoms.
Bashō
The auspiciousness
is just about medium—
my spring.
Issa
Highlighting the blossoms,
clouded by blossoms—
the moon.
Chora
Her mother eats
the bitter parts—
mountain persimmons.
Issa
Today too
mosquito larvae—
and tomorrow again.
Issa
Spring passes—
the last reluctant
cherry blossoms.
Buson
Down a paulownia tree
the rain comes trickling
across a cicada’s belly.
Baishitsu
“Every woman . . .”
he starts to say,
then looks around.
Anonymous
“After you die
they’ll be valuable”
he tells the painter.
Anonymous
Mountains darken—
robbing the scarlet
from maple leaves.
Buson
The moon speeds on—
the treetops
still holding rain.
Bashō
Harvesting radishes,
he points the way
with a radish.
Issa
Shielding an infant
from the wind—
a scarecrow.
Issa
A rock
against the moon
sits big.
Seisensui
A shame to pick it
a shame to leave it—
the violet.
Nao-jo
Workers—
they laugh
in a single color.
Hakushi
Selling ladles,
he shows how to scoop up
nothing at all.
Anonymous
Chanting the Lotus Sutra—
only his lips
are busy.
Anonymous
Frogs grow silent—
noble humans
are passing by.
Rakukyo
Dragonfly on a rock
absorbed in
a daydream.
Santōka
Its face
looks like a horse—
the grasshopper.
Anonymous
Walking the dog
you meet
lots of dogs.
Sōshi
I write, erase, rewrite
Erase again, and then
A poppy blooms.
Hokusai
My Go rival—
how vexing
and how dear.
Anonymous
Very secretly
the medicine peddler
is sick.
Anonymous
Losing,
he straightens in his seat
and loses again.
Anonymous
Having given my opinion
I return home to
my wife’s opinion.
Yachō
Priding himself
on scolding
his beautiful wife.
Anonymous
Taking me along
my shadow comes home
from moon-viewing.
Sodō
Whatever they wear
they become beautiful
moon-viewing.
Chiyo-jo
Flesh getting thin—
these are thick bones
Hōsai
Kittens
playing hide-and-seek
in the bush clover.
Issa
Sudden shower—
riding naked
on a naked horse.
Santōka
As flies retreat
mosquitoes start
their battle cry.
Anonymous
Early summer rains—
lunging at the blue sea
muddy waters.
Buson
The cuckoo
with a single song
has established summer.
Ryōta
Early summer rain—
a letter from home
arrives wet.
Haritsu
Secret night rendezvous—
a mosquito was swatted
and died quietly.
Anonymous
During the day
the Buddha shelters behind
mosquitoes.
Issa
Even in a single blade of grass
the cool breeze
finds a home.
Issa
From the nostril
of the Great Buddha comes
a swallow.
Issa
“Don’t dare break it!”
but he broke off and gave me
a branch of garden plum.
Taigi
Even when chased
it pretends not to hurry—
the butterfly.
Garaku
Swarms of mosquitoes—
but without them,
it’s a little lonely.
Issa
The flute player
bitten by a mosquito
on the edge of his lips.
Kyoriku
Dashing into one another
whispering, parting—
ants.
Anonymous
Inhaling clouds
exhaling clouds—
mountaintop pines.
Anonymous
Even the clams
keep their mouths shut
in this heat.
Bashō
Across a pillar of mosquitoes
hangs the bridge
of dreams.
Kikaku
The dragonfly
cannot come to rest
on the blades of grass.
Bashō
Early summer rains—
even nameless rivers
are fearsome.
Buson
Each time the wind blows
the butterfly sits anew
on the willow.
Bashō
The voice of the cuckoo
slants
over the water.
Bashō
The season’s first melon
clutched in its arms
sleeps the child.
Issa
On blades of grass
frolic and roll on—
pearls of dew.
Ransetsu
A world of dew,
And within every dewdrop
A world of struggle.
Issa
Becoming a cow
would be fine—morning naps
and the evening cool.
Shikō
Dew cooling—
things with shapes
all alive.
Kijō
The stone-carver
cools his chisel
in the clear stream.
Buson
A hoe standing
with no one around—
the heat!
Shiki
The warbler
dropped his hat—
a camellia.
Bashō
On the temple bell
perching and sleeping—
a butterfly.
Buson
Sharing the same blood
but we’re not related—
the hateful mosquito!
Jōsō
Over the violets
a small breeze
passes by.
Ontei
Garden butterfly—
as the baby crawls, it flies
crawls—flies—
Issa
Dragonflies
quiet their mad darting—
crescent moon.
Kikaku
Rocks and trees
glisten in my eyes—
such heat.
Kyorai
The bat
circling the moon
would not leave it.
Kyōtai
Being hit
the gong spits out
a noontime mosquito.
Sōseki
Summer cool—
in the green rice fields
a single pine.
Shiki
The beggar
wears heaven and earth
as summer clothes.
Kikaku
Give me back my dream!
a crow has wakened me
to misty moonlight.
Onitsura
One person
and one fly
in the large room.
Issa
On my shoulder
is it longing for a companion?
a red dragonfly.
Sōseki
Mosquito larvae,
dancing a Buddhist chant
in the water by the grave.
Issa
Crazed by flowers
surprised by the moon—
a butterfly.
Chora
Burning so easily,
extinguishing so easily—
the firefly.
Chine-jo
Blazing sun—
whose barefoot child
is running free?
Kōyō
Dried grasses—
and just a few heat waves
rising an inch or two.
Bashō
The nurseryman
left behind
a butterfly.
Ryōta
Stillness—
seeping into the rocks
the cicada’s voice.
Bashō
How beautifully
the cow has slimmed down
in the summer fields.
Bonchō
In the morning dew
soiled and cooled—
dirt on the melon.
Bashō
Summer coolness—
lantern out,
the sound of water.
Shiki
At the sound of the sea
the sunflowers open
their black eyes.
Yūji
Octopus pot—
evanescent dreams
of the summer moon.
Bashō
Summer rains—
secretly one evening
moon in the pines.
Ryōta
After my sneeze
all is quiet—
summer mountains.
Yasui
Only the moon and I
remain on the bridge
cooling off.
Kikusha
Short summer night—
flowing through reeds
bubbles from crabs.
Buson
Summer rains—
leaves of the plum
the color of cold wind.
Saimaro
The cuckoo—
flies and insects,
listen well!
Issa
Pursued,
it hides in the moon—
the firefly.
Sano ryōta
White camellias—
only the sound of their falling
moonlit night.
Rankō
The fly on the porch
while rubbing its hands—
swat!
Issa
Each time
I swat a fly, I chant
“Namu Amida Butsu”
Issa
In my hand
its fleeting light vanishes—
the firefly.
Kyorai
Two old bent backs
sitting close, wrapped in
a shower of cicada songs.
Anonymous
They live long—
the flies, fleas, and mosquitoes
in this poor village.
Issa
Could they be sutras?
in the temple well
frogs chant.
Kansetsu
Recited on and on,
the poems of the frogs
have too many syllables.
Eiji
Where there are people
there are flies, and
there are Buddhas.
Issa
Oh, tranquility!
Penetrating the very rock,
a cicada’s voice.
Bashō
A sudden shower
drums down upon
the heads of the carp.
Shiki
Lightning—
yesterday to the east
today to the west.
Kikaku
Heat in waves—
in the stones
angry reverberations.
Kyōtai
How interesting—
running errands right and left
fireflies.
Kaiga
In the shimmering haze
the cat mumbles something
in its sleep.
Issa
Again and again
stitching the rows of barley—
a butterfly.
Sora
Evening glories—
the cat chewing the flower
has its mind elsewhere.
Buson
The fish
not knowing they’re in a bucket
cool by the gate.
Issa
Sudden shower—
and rising from the heat,
the broken-down horse.
Kitō
A pheasant’s tail
very gently brushes
the violets.
Shūshiki-jo
Walking along the river
with no bridge to cross—
the day is long.
Shiki
Trout fishing—
more fishermen
than trout.
Kenjin
“It’s much too long a day,”
opening its mouth
a crow.
Issa
An old well—
falling into its darkness
a camellia.
Buson
The summer grasses—
all that remains
of warriors’ dreams.
Bashō
The coming of autumn
determined
by a red dragonfly.
Shirao
My rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves,
her other hand holds
her hair.
Bashō
Morning glories—
blown to the ground
bloom as they are.
Issa
Tired heart—
mountains and ocean
too much beauty.
Santōka
Wanting to be logical
he tries so hard—
the drunkard.
Meitei
“Let’s pull them all”
says the dentist
generously.
Anonymous
She lowers
her eloquent lap
onto his silent lap.
Anonymous
Just asking them to fight,
he saved tons of money
and died.
Hakuchō
AUTUMN
September, October, November
The stars
have already opened
their autumn eyes.
Kōyō
Dearly, dearly
embracing the sun—
the fallen garden leaves.
Ritō
When I show my delight
they fall down faster—
acorns.
Fūsei
Early autumn—
the evening shower becomes
a night of rain.
Taigi
Early autumn—
peering through willows
the morning sun.
Seibi
Autumn begins—
ocean and fields
all one green.
Bashō
Dusk—
while the earth and I talk
leaves fall.
Issa
A grasshopper
chirps in the sleeve
of the scarecrow.
Chigetsu
All of a sudden
my first fallen tooth—
autumn wind.
Sanpū
Autumn of my years—
the moon is perfect
and yet—
Issa
The first goose
seeking its own sky
in the dusk.
Shirō
The fields have withered—
no need for the crane
to stretch out its neck.
Shikō
When they fall,
just as they fall—
garden grasses.
Ryōkan
This autumn
no child in my lap—
moon-viewing.
Onitsura
Loneliness
also has its pleasure—
autumn dusk.
Buson
Fallen leaves
fall on each other—
rain beats on the rain.
Kyōtai
A man raking—
the leaves keep
calling him back.
Anonymous
Before the white mums
hesitating for a while—
the scissors.
Buson
Dyeing his body
autumn—
the dragonfly.
Bakusui
Truly the autumn has come—
I was convinced
by my sneeze.
Buson
Wild geese muttering, muttering—
are they spreading
rumors about me?
Issa
Distant mountains
reflecting in its eyes—
a dragonfly.
Issa
The harvest moon—
“Get it for me!”
cries the child.
Issa
“It’s this big!”
forming a peony with her arms—
a child.
Issa
Today too!
today too! kites caught
by the nettle tree.
Issa
Autumn wind—
in my heart, how many
mountains and rivers.
Kyoshi
A floating sandal—
an object of scorn
to the plovers.
Anonymous
Out from the gate,
I too become a traveler—
autumn dusk.
Buson
Blown from the west
collecting in the east—
falling leaves.
Buson
More than last year
it is lonely—
the autumn dusk.
Buson
Deep in the mountains—
falling into my heart
autumn streams.
Shinkei
The old pond’s
frog also growing old—
fallen leaves.
Buson
The pine wind
circling around the eaves—
autumn deepens.
Bashō
The warbler
amid the bamboo shoots
sings of old age.
Bashō
Among the ears of barley
are you hiding your tail?
old fox.
Tesshi
Cool breeze
filling the empty sky—
pine voices.
Onitsura
To the mountain quietude
the quiet
rain.
Santōka
A triangle—
is the lizard’s head getting
a little longer?
Kyoshi
In my dwelling
friendly with the mice—
fireflies.
Issa
White dew
on brambles and thorns—
one drop each.
Buson
In the harvest moonlight
standing nonchalantly—
the scarecrow.
Issa
The bitter persimmons
spending their autumn
quietly.
Ritō
Garden gate
slamming and thwacking—
autumn wind.
Haritsu
Its hat fallen off
and embarrassed—
the scarecrow.
Buson
A rinse of vermilion poured
from the setting sun, and then
autumn dusk.
Taigi
Bracing his feet
and offering up a song—
the frog.
Sōkan
The bat’s
secret home—
a tattered hat.
Buson
Autumn rains—
a spider encased in
a clump of fallen grass.
Sekitei
On a withered branch
lingers the evanescent memory
of a cicada’s voice.
Kagai
Singing as it goes,
an insect floats down the stream
on a broken bough.
Issa
Coldly, coldly
the sun slips into my sleeve—
autumn mountains.
Issa
Killing the spider
then so lonesome—
evening cold.
Shiki
Just like people
the monkey clasps its hands—
autumn wind.
Shadō
“The eyes of the hawks
are now dimmed,”
quails sing.
Bashō
Crouching,
studying the clouds—
a frog.
Chiyo-jo
For me leaving
for you staying
two autumns.
Shiki
Getting old—
I slip on a watermelon rind
as I dance.
Sōchō
Falling sick on a journey,
my dreams wander
over a field of dried grass.
Bashō
Upon the road
not another travelling soul
this autumn evening.
Bashō
When I speak
my lips are chilled—
Autumnal wind.
Bashō
With the power of non-attachment
floating on the water—
a frog.
Jōsō
Love in my old age—
as I try to forget,
late autumn rain.
Buson
A hedge of thorns—
how skillfully the dog
wriggled under it!
Issa
As dew drips
gently, gently, the dove
murmurs its chant.
Issa
Typhoons ended,
the rat swims across
flowing waters.
Buson
The autumn wind
at the sliding door—
a piercing voice.
Bashō
Seeing that I’m old
even the mosquito whispers
closer to my ear.
Issa
An autumn mosquito
determined to die
bites me.
Shiki
Grasses and trees all
waiting for the moon—
dewy evening.
Sōgi
Lightning!
fleeing up the wall,
the legs of a spider.
Kichō
Sudden shower—
clutching the blades of grass
a flock of sparrows.
Buson
Sunlight
passes through a butterfly
asleep.
Rankō
Misty grasses—
water without voices
in the dusk.
Buson
So honoured—
my tears stain
the falling leaves with scarlet.
Bashō
Out from the darkness
back into the darkness—
affairs of the cat.
Issa
A single guest
visits a single host—
autumn evening.
Buson
Sweeping
and then not sweeping
the fallen leaves.
Taigi
Misty day—
they might be gossiping
horses in the field.
Issa
Very squarely
setting its buttocks down—
the pumpkin.
Sōseki
The autumn wind
takes the shape
of pampas grass.
Kigin
On the brushwood gate
in place of a lock—
one snail.
Issa
To passing autumn
the pampas grass waves
goodbye goodbye.
Shirao
All in calmness—
the earth with half-opened eyes
moves into winter.
Dakotsu
Crossing the sea
into a net of mist—
the setting sun.
Buson
Whiter than
the stones of Stone Mountain—
the autumn wind.
Bashō
The convalescent—
indulging in his mother’s care
has become a habit.
Anonymous
With both hands
thrust up mightily—
my yawn.
Anonymous
Even grandma
goes out drinking—
moonlit night.
Issa
Don’t cry, wild geese,
it’s the same everywhere—
this floating world.
Issa
Charcoal fire—
my years dwindle down
just like that.
Issa
New garden
stones settling down—
first winter rain.
Shadō
A garden in winter:
thin moon above—
a mosquito’s lonely cry.
Bashō
Piercing cold—
I dropped my broom
under the pines.
Taigi
Winter sun—
frozen on horseback
is my shadow.
Bashō
At the ticket window
our child becomes
one year younger.
Seiun
One edge
hanging over the mountain—
the Milky Way.
Shiki
Evening fog—
my horse has learned
the holes on the bridge.
Issa
My nose running
I play a solitary Go-game—
night chill.
Buson
Cold moon—
feeling the pebbles
under my shoes.
Buson
The huge setting sun—
little remains of
its power.
Kyoshi
Taking a nap
I hide within myself—
winter seclusion.
Buson
Left to live on
left to live on and on—
this cold.
Issa
The moon in the water
turns somersaults
and flows away.
Sano Ryōta
The sound
of the raindrops
also grown older.
Santōka
Calling three times,
then no more to be heard—
the deer in the rain.
Buson
The old dog
is leading the way—
visiting family graves.
Issa
Running across the shelf
hoisting a chrysanthemum—
a temple mouse.
Takamasa
The youngest child
visiting family graves
carries the broom.
Buson
First love—
coming close to a lantern
face-to-face.
Taigi
Camphor-tree roots
silently soak in
the early winter rain.
Buson
How quiet—
at the bottom of the lake
peaks of clouds.
Issa
Peaceful, peaceful
chilly, chilly
snow, snow.
Santōka
No talents
also no sins—
winter seclusion.
Issa
Visitors
kindly create a path
through the snow at my gate.
Issa
From the nose
of the Buddha in the fields—
icicles.
Issa
Colder than snow
on my white hair—
the winter moon.
Jōsō
A hundred miles of frost—
in a boat, I own
the moon.
Buson
The black dog
becomes a lantern—
snowy road.
Anonymous
Feeling my bones
on the quilting—
frosty night.
Buson
“Coming, coming,”
but someone still knocks—
snowy gate.
Kyorai
Another year is gone.
A traveler’s shade on my head,
straw sandals at my feet.
Bashō
The first dream of the year —
I keep it a secret
and smile to myself.
Sho-u