by Kobayahsi Issa
Don’t weep, insects –
Lovers, stars themselves,
Must part.
Everything I touch
with tenderness, alas,
pricks like a bramble.
What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.
Winter seclusion -
Listening, that evening,
To the rain in the mountain.
In spring rain
a pretty girl
yawning.
O snail
Climb Mount Fuji,
But slowly, slowly!
I'm going out,
flies, so relax,
make love.
Trusting the Buddha, good and bad,
I bid farewell
To the departing year.
Sparrow's child
out of the way, out of the way!
the stallion's coming through
Last time, I think,
I'll brush the flies
from my father's face.
The wren
Earns his living
Noiselessly.
How much
are you enjying yourself,
tiger moth?
A bath when you're born,
a bath when you die,
how stupid.
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