Saturday, April 11, 2015

Haiku Roku


In the cicada's cry
No sign can foretell
How soon it must die.
- Matsuo Basho

Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold.
- Matsuo Basho
A cold winter wind—
it stumbles suddenly
the returning horse.
- Yosa no Buson
Unfolding at the
hand of the glass polisher:
a camellia!
- Yosa no Buson

Don’t weep, insects –
Lovers, stars themselves,
Must part.
- Kobayashi Issa
    All the time I pray to Buddha
    I keep on
    killing mosquitoes.
- Kobayashi Issa

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