clearness

There’s no moon—
last night, I came here
driving a horse.

Ranran

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lightness

Under the tree
the soup and the fish salad,
or cherry blossoms?

Matsuo Bashō

autumn moonlight

As if blossoms have
fallen from the harvest moon—
the cotton field.

Matsuo Bashō

the style of the unchanging

The harvest moon
and the fog at the mountain foot—
mists over the field.

Matsuo Bashō

the fundamental principle

It doesn’t look like
they will die in a short time —
the sounds of cicadas.

Matsuo Bashō

brief dream

Let me stay for now
where there is a pasania tree —
the summer grove.

Matsuo Bashō

perfect beauty and happiness

Quietly, the water flows in its vastness.
Drifting, my cypress boat now floats, now loafs.
The faint sound of my whistling is carried away by the clean breeze;
I bend to the oars, and the boat rocks.
Putting down the oars and picking up the fishing rod —
I’d end my year in carefree wandering.

Ji Kang