beauty of snow

Men of the city!
I’ll sell you my bamboo-hat,
A snow umbrella.

Matsuo Bashō



In the front of the garden
it has whitely blossomed —
the camellia.

Uejima Onitsura

crossing the mountains

Going a mountain road
Something or other charmed me:
The wild violets.

Matsuo Bashō


Sleeping on a journey –
Is some dog being rained on too?
The voices of night.

Matsuo Bashō

on the road to Nara

The spring has come!
Over nameless mountains
The morning mist.

Matsuo Bashō

clear spring

The dew falls drip-drop:
Would I could dip myself here
And wash away the world.

Matsuo Bashō


A coagulation
Of coolness – is that what it is?
The moon at midnight.

Matsunaga Teitoku