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.
Chirp of an early cricket. Silence.
The lamp dies then flares up again.
Night must be raining outside the window:
plink, plink on the banana leaves.
Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.
On winding pool with willows dim,
At narrow strait the lovebirds swim.
Green duckweeds float,
Barring the lotus-picking boat.
Nor butterflies nor bees
Love fragrance from the withered trees.
When her red petals fall apart,
The lotus bloom 's bitter at heart.
The setting sun greets rising tide,
The floating clouds bring rain.
The swaying lotus seems to confide,
Her sorrow to the poet in vain.
Then she would not be wed to vernal breeze.
What could she do now autumn drives away wild geese?
Translation: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, p.226.
Wavelet on wavelet glimmers by the shore;
Cloud on cloud dimly appears in the sky.
Unsaddled is my white-jadelike horse;
Drunk, asleep in the sweet grass I'll lie.
My horse's hoofs may break, I'm afraid,
The breeze-rippled brook paved by moonlit jade.
I tether my horse to a bough of green willow.
Near the bridge where I pillow
My head on arms and sleep till the cuckoo's song awakes
A spring daybreak.
Translation: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, p. 238
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.
Who are you, reader, reading my poems my poems an hundred years hence?
I cannot send you one single flower from this wealth of the spring,
one single streak of gold from yonder clouds.
Open your doors and look abroad.
From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories
of the vanished flowers of an hundred years before.
In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang one spring morning,
sending its glad voice across an hundred years.
Hojoki: A Buddhist Reflection on Solitude: Imperfection and Transcendence – Bilingual English and Japanese Texts with Free Online Audio Recordings by Kamo no Chōmei
庭院深深：最美的宋詞英譯新詮 by 吳俁陽（賞析）
Silk Dragon: Translations from the Chinese by Arthur Sze
White clouds engird the mountain.
Stone steps climb to nothingness.
Alone, the poet leans on his staff,
gazing into the expanse,
and accompanies the stream:
bamboo flute joining murmurs
of unseen flowing water.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 