SPRING CALM
The Inland Sea at twilight: star by star,
The lamps shine out on islands, near and far. . . .
—SHIKI
A MUSICAL EVENING
The geisha's pose is shadowed on the screen
Beside a willow sapling, fledged with green.
—HÔ-Ô
UNFATHOMED
Without a sound, the white camellia fell
To sound the darkness of the deep stone well.
—BUSON
SPRING DAWN
Up comes the bucket from the well of gloom,
And in it floats—a pink camellia bloom.
—KAKEI
SUDDEN SPRING
With tender impact on the icy air,
The peach-buds burst: their silken petals flare.
—HÔ-Ô
CORRESPONDENCE
Among the peach-tree blossoms—ah, the glow
Of sunrise wakes a cock with scarlet crow!
—KIKAKU
THE MASTER STROKE
A seedling shoulders up some crumbs of ground:
The fields are suddenly green for miles around!
—HÔ-Ô
FIRST PUDDLE
Though spring rain patters on the mud, as yet
The froglets' sallow bellies are not wet.
—BUSON
A SHELTER OF LEAVES
A sparrow, springing on this bamboo-cane,
Chirps at the downward sound of steady rain.
—HÔ-Ô
GARDEN AFTER RAIN
Why, as that single tea-camellia fell,
It spilled bright water from its heavy bell!
—BASHÔ
VIEWPOINT
When I climb the pagoda, five floors high,
There, on that fir-top, sits a butterfly!
—KASO
FROM A HILLSIDE
The rice-fields spread their flooded terracing
Of mirrors: segments in a beetle's wing.
—HÔ-Ô
SPRING SNOWFLAKE
A white-queued egret, balanced on the breeze,
Sails through the dark-green cryptomeria trees.
—RAIZAN
AT NARA
There sat the great bronze Buddha. From his hollow
Nostril suddenly darted out—a swallow!
—ISSA
BOUNDLESS COMPASSION
Oh, weak and skinny frog, though death is near,
Fight on and dont give in: Issa is here!
—ISSA
THE SILENT REBUKE
Angrily I returned; awaiting me
Within my court—the tranquil willow-tree.
—RYÔTA
A FLOWERING BIRD
The pheasant's eyes are gold, hut ringed with red:
Two tea-camellias flowering in his head.
—HÔ-Ô
IN A TEMPLE GARDEN
The old green pond is silent; here the hop
Of a frog plumbs the evening stillness: plop!1
—BASHÔ
THE LIKENESS OF WIND
The flurried willow paints the breeze's rush
Without the need for paper, ink, or brush.
—SARYÛ
THE EXECUTIONERS
A red camellia drops to the garden bed,
Where scurrying rats drag off its severed head.
—SHICHIKU
SENSITIVE
The butterfly, lifted on the spring wind's billow,
Alights elsewhere upon the swaying willow.
—BASHÔ
ONE NOTE OF ZEN
A frog had plucked his slack-stringed samisen:
The pond was quieter at nightfall, then.
—HÔ-Ô
DISCOVERY
Again the cherry-buds are bursting through:
Horses have four legs! Birds have only two!
—ONITSURA
WONDER
