Matsuo Bashōselected HaikuSicking on journey, My dream run about A desolate field. Spring is passing. The birds cry, and the fishes’ eyes are With tears. The summer grasses. All that remains Of warriors’ dreams. The early summer rain Fall and fall yet Leave untouched Hikari-do Hall. When you say something, The lip feel cold. The Autumn wind. Autumn moonlight-- a worm digs silently into the chestnut. An empty road lonelier than abandonment: this autumn evening Autumn darkness descends on this road I travel alone This darkening autumn: my neighbor, how does he continue? A snowy morning-- by myself, chewing on dried salmon. Now then, let's go out to enjoy the snow ... until I slip and fall! The first soft snow: leaves of the awed jonquil bow low Lightning shatters the darkness― the night heron's shriek The old pond A frog leaps in. Sound of the water. Does my soul abide in heaven, or hell? Only the sea gull in his high, lonely circuits, may tell. Let us arrange these lovely flowers in the bowl since there's no rice An ancient pond, the frog leaps: the silver plop and gurgle of water another year is gone a traveler's shade on my head, straw sandals at my feet falling sick on a journey my dream goes wandering over a field of dried grass [1694] |
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