Winter garden
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Even with insects
Even with insects--
some can sing,
some can't.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
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Midfield
Midfield,
attached to nothing,
the skylark singing.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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When the winter chrysanthemums go
When the winter chrysanthemums go,
there's nothing to write about
but radishes.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First winter rain
First winter rain--
even the monkey
seems to want a raincoat.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Sparrow singing
Sparrow singing--
its tiny mouth
open.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blow of an ax
Blow of an ax,
pine scent,
the winter woods.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even on the smallest islands
Even on the smallest islands,
they are tilling the fields,
skylarks singing.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
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Ploughing the land
Ploughing the land--
not even a bird singing
in the mountain's shadow.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
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My arm for a pillow
My arm for a pillow,
I really like myself
under the hazy moon.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
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Winter solitude
Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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In the thicket's shade
In the thicket's shade
a woman by herself
singing the rice-planting song.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calligraphy of geese
Calligraphy of geese
against the sky--
the moon seals it.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The moon tonight
The moon tonight--
I even miss
her grumbling.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
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A field of cotton
A field of cotton--
as if the moon
had flowered.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Face of the spring moon
Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
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Harvest moon
Harvest moon--
called at his house,
he was digging potatoes.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
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Staying at an inn
Staying at an inn
where prostitutes are also sleeping--
bush clover and the moon.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Listening to the moon
Listening to the moon,
gazing at the croaking of frogs
in a field of ripe rice.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson
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A bee
A bee
staggers out
of the peony.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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That wren
That wren--
looking here, looking there.
You lose something?
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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