Washing the hoe
Washing the hoe--
ripples on the water;
far off, wild ducks.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson

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Ducks bobbing on the water
Ducks bobbing on the water--
are they also, tonight,
hoping to get lucky?
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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New Year's morning
New Year's morning:
the ducks on the pond
quack and quack.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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Awake at night
Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho

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Evening wind
Evening wind:
water laps
the heron's legs.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson

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Cold night: the wild duck
Cold night: the wild duck,
sick, falls from the sky
and sleeps awhile.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho

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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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These sea slugs
These sea slugs,
they just don't seem
Japanese.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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That wren
That wren--
looking here, looking there.
You lose something?
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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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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Hey, sparrow!
Hey, sparrow!
out of the way,
Horse is coming.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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Visiting the graves
Visiting the graves,
the old dog
leads the way.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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How much
How much
are you enjying yourself,
tiger moth?
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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Napped half the day
Napped half the day;
no one
punished me!
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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They end their flight
They end their flight
one by one---
crows at dusk.
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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Seen
Seen
through a telescope:
ten cents worth of fog.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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First day of spring
First day of spring--
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho

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The toad! It looks like
The toad! It looks like
it could belch
a cloud.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa

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A bat flits
A bat flits
in moonlight
above the plum blossoms.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson

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The end of spring
The end of spring--
the poet is brooding
about editors.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Yosa Buson

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