Spring
rainy days
make the monk Ryōkan
feel sad.
Summer
the moon in my window
is all the thief left behind.
Autumn
an autumn wind
chills the dangling persimmons,
and my testicles.
Winter
little birds have
gathered in the brushwood
on a snowy morn.
SPRING
Despite the storm,
Spring's herald makes it through:
Scent of plum blossom.
SUMMER
Abundant fireflies
This year, but this morning
None are to be seen.
AUTUMN
Autumn sea:
A boat moves, leaf-like,
In the floating world.
WINTER
Winter rains
Cross the mountains
On rising clouds.
SPRING
on wet feet,
the sparrows hop
down the hall.
SUMMER
the owl naps,
and dreams of a
summer grove.
AUTUMN
sunny autumn day:
smoke from something burning
rises skyward.
WINTER
a snowy night;
the sound of bamboo
rustling.
SPRING*
The spring sea;
gently, quietly,
all day long.
SUMMER
what a joy!
wading through summer rivers,
sandals in hand.
AUTUMN
vacant teahouse,
atop the mountain:
a harvest moon.
WINTER
neighbors detest me
for my whistling kettle:
a cold winter night.
* Translation by: Wilson, William Scott. 2023. A Beginner’s Guide to Japanese Haiku. Tuttle Publishing: North Clarendon, VT.
Hojoki: A Buddhist Reflection on Solitude: Imperfection and Transcendence – Bilingual English and Japanese Texts with Free Online Audio Recordings by Kamo no Chōmei
muddy clogs
beside each gate;
Spring is here.
"don't swat!"
the fly rubs its hands,
then rubs its feet.
autumn rain,
a small sumo wrestler
pushes through.
sleeping in a row,
the Shinano mountains:
under snow blanket.
In Japanese:
門門の下駄の泥より春立ちぬ
やれ打つな蠅が手を摺り足をする
秋の雨小さき角力通りけり
寝ならぶやしなのの山も夜の雪
From: Wilson, William Scott. 2023. A Beginners Guide to Japanese Haiku. North Clarendon, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 224pp.
Have you never felt a sort of fear in the face of the ageless, a fear that in that room you might lose all consciousness of the passage of time, that untold years might pass and upon emerging you should find you had grown old and gray?
But our thoughts do not travel to what we cannot see. The unseen for us does not exist.
This was the genius of our ancestors, that by cutting off the light from this empty space they imparted to the world of shadows that formed there a quality of mystery and depth superior to that of any wall painting or ornament.
I wonder if my readers know the color of that ‘darkness seen by candlelight.’ It was different in quality from darkness on the road at night. It was a repletion, a pregnancy of tiny particles like fire ashes, each particle luminous as a rainbow.
Whenever I see the alcove of a tastefully built Japanese room, I marvel at our comprehension of the secrets of shadows, our sensitive use of light and shadow.
In Praise of Shadows by Jun’ichirō Tanizaki
in Summer grass, resides the remnants of warrior dreams.
Japanese: 夏草や兵共がゆめの跡; natsugusa ya // tsuwamonodomo ga // yume no ato
MONKEY New Writing from Japan: Volume 4: MUSIC by Ted Goossen
Tiger Riding for Beginners 