Poems

Evening wind Evening wind: water laps the heron’s legs. Translated by Robert Hass

Harvest moon Harvest moon– called at his house, he was digging potatoes. Translated by Robert Hass

He’s on the porch He’s on the porch, to escape the wife and kids– how hot it is! Translated by Robert Hass

His Holiness the Abbot His Holiness the Abbot is shitting in the withered fields. Translated by Robert Hass

Hokku Poems in Four Seasons Spring The year’s first poem done, with smug self confidence a haikai poet. Longer has become the daytime; a pheasant is […]

Lighting one candle Lighting one candle with another candle– spring evening. Translated by Robert Hass

Listening to the moon Listening to the moon, gazing at the croaking of frogs in a field of ripe rice.

My arm for a pillow My arm for a pillow, I really like myself under the hazy moon. Translated by Robert Hass

Not quite dark yet Not quite dark yet and the stars shining above the withered fields.

Old well Old well, a fish leaps– dark sound. Translated by Robert Hass