Sōmokutō · 701 poems

• the pines all droop their branches — namu kanzeon
• in the pine wind ringing the bell at dawn and dusk
• sweeping for the first time in a while — the hedge flowers are in bloom
• going in deeper / and deeper still / the green mountains
• soaked through — and this is a stone that marks the way
• the blazing sky borne on my head I go begging
• a crow caws and I too am alone
• in the midst of life and death the snow falls without end
• leaves falling I keep on walking
• treading my way through — bush clover, pampas grass
• this journey, this endless journey — a cicada crying
• drifting and drifting I savor the water
• watching the moon go down and I am alone
• alone getting bitten by mosquitoes
• flung out my legs still in the sun
• come from deep in the mountains carrying cocoons
• walking with a dragonfly perched on my hat
• walking on and on the red spider lilies blooming on and on
• the road runs straight and I am lonely
• in silence I put on today's straw sandals
• gently tipsy the leaves come fluttering down
• cold rain falling and I am not yet dead
• inside the freshly papered shoji one person
• casting a shadow on the water I am a traveler
• snow falling falling and I am watching the snow
• cold rain falling and into the rained-on mountains I walk
• having been given just enough to eat and now it turns to rain
• buds on the trees buds in the grass I keep on walking
• scratching this body that survived
• having parted and walked on a cicada crying
• the mountain I'll never see again draws away
• nothing but crickets crying at me
• crystalline the waterbirds pair off
• a shrike cries and there is nowhere to lay this body down
• this hopeless self of mine walking along
• crossing a river run completely dry
• the snake gourds hanging there are two
• the light off the pampas grass nothing to block it
• pushing in — the sound of water
• slipping and falling and the mountain hushed
• the sasanqua in the rain not even falling
• coming down without cease the big leaves
• this morning too a fine day one star
• withered right through and turned to beans
• onto my tired leg a dragonfly settled
• on the withered mountain there is water enough to drink
• the weight of the baggage I can't cast off before me behind me
• my robe torn to this and burrs of grass
• rewriting my traveler's farewell note
• in the lee of the rock water truly welling up
• wet with the rain that cloud let fall
• shaving off my white hair here and leaving
• sitting down on weeds gone autumn
• water this delicious overflowing
• grown old I long for home a cicada crying
• rock setting thistle to bloom on rock
• that's fine as it is sweeping the fallen leaves
• came down to the village along with the sound of water
• savoring it deeply rice that is only rice
• not a single cloud I take off my hat
• the graves in a row and up to them the waves press in
• drunk I'd been sleeping with the crickets
• met again the sasanqua too in bloom
• even the sound of the raindrops has grown old
• a shabby shadow, I think — and leaves fall
• I long to see you — the slag heap has come into view
• holding out its branches the winter tree
• no more houses to beg from and clouds on the mountains
• or else I quit begging and stand watching the mountains
• has my hat too begun to leak
• on a frosty night there'll be a bed somewhere
• cheap cheap cold cold snow snow
• this back of mine going off into the cold rain
• into the begging bowl too the hail
• how long will the traveling go on — cutting my nails
• the morning calm sets down two islands
• up the stone steps in the winter rain Santa Maria
• a tooth that dropped out easily enough
• cold clouds hurrying by
• home is far away and the buds on the trees
• out of a fine bath into a fine moon
• in a tree already budding a bird is crying
• onto my hat with a soft plop — a camellia
• the road turns quiet and the buds of dokudami
• bracken already for sale
• toward the noise since morning a long bridge is thrown
• settling here the grass sprouting
• having received enough I set down my one pair of chopsticks
• treading firm on the drizzle-wet earth i go on
• in the autumn wind i pick up a stone
• on today's road a dandelion has bloomed

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• in my home village where the rain falls i walk barefoot
• all the way to the kitchen the moonlight, and i alone
• toward the plume grass the plume grass swaying
• just moved in and the red spider lilies at the height of bloom
• red dawn sky, rain falling — i'll sow the radishes
• the dew on the grass seed, trying to settle
• from the evening sky i receive a single yuzu
• the tea flowers, i let them just keep falling as they fall
• somehow it has grown light — tea flowers
• winter has come — scraps of wood, scraps of bamboo
• the moon rises and i wait for nothing
• my lone fire blazing up higher and higher
• the New Year's crows caw and caw
• among the fallen leaves — a narcissus shoot, is it?
• this and that to eat, and a whole day of wind
• the sound of water — truly i have settled down
• the tea shrubs too, hermitage-like, open then scatter
• the sky clouds as if someone might come — loquat blossoms
• leaves falling — deep within i behold the buddha
• under a snow-heavy sky i pluck the last one
• snow falling on gochū, and i as one man tend a fire
• a warm day, and there is still something to eat
• i come back down the middle of the moonlight
• onto snow snow falling, and i am in the stillness
• snow falling — one by one they go
• fallen leaves gone warm — spearflower berries
• ringed round by tea shrubs, a life of no particular anything
• moonlit night — so the gift he brought was rice
• when i walk, butterbur buds
• a camellia opens and there is a grave
• utterly hushed, the shepherd's purse at the height of bloom
• one single camellia, one single flower
• that sound since morning — a bird come to eat the berries?
• pull and pull and still i pull the grass's clinging
• already dusk — the fire flaring up
• as if someone had come — only a loquat leaf falling
• today, picking butterbur and eating butterbur
• wanting to do something — though the grass blades sway
• sparrows dancing! dandelions scattering!
• day about to break, i open the window — green leaves
• a long hair — and it's white
• my heart guileless, the rice has boiled over
• a butterfly from behind to the front flutter flutter
• after all being alone is best — weeds
• today again all day no one came — a firefly
• onto my bare skin a dragonfly means to land, does it
• a rustle, a scrape — a voiceless insect has come

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• the pine wind cool — a man eats, a horse eats
• today again all day i have walked the wind
• what on earth is what — everything is in bloom
• walking buttercups, sitting buttercups
• thistles bright and vivid — a morning after rain
• head bowed, only pebbles
• with the drops from the young leaves, with the drops from my hat
• firefly come, come — i've reached my home village
• the temple's bamboo shoot has become a bamboo
• pine wind, pine shade, lying down
• day breaking, i whet the sickle
• alone i listen — a woodpecker
• under the leaning moon, being an owl
• wild roses — let me become the soil of this place
• waiting — the cherries are ripening
• in the bosom of the mountain i become naked
• the mountain path already has the bush clover blooming
• here once again the wild roses are scattering
• from the morning earth i pick it up
• a stone enshrined where the water wells up
• hurrying home — kanakana kanakana
• a day in the mountains — the ants are walking too
• the clouds hurry off and make it a fine moon
• the morning is cool — young myōga shoots
• always alone — a red dragonfly
• until my travel robe dries, wind through the weeds
• today is farewell — a loofah dangling
• soaked as soaked can be, i've come — buttercups
• it moved — so it was a bagworm
• in the shade of the fig leaves i have a lunch box
• across the water the lights of the women's houses begin to flicker
• hazed and layered, the mountains are my home village
• in the spring wind a single begging bowl
• on a willful, as-i-please journey, i go on getting wet in the rain
• back after so long — bamboo shoots springing up and up
• soaked to the skin the horse puddling the paddy is scolded and scolded
• clearing, then raining — it's become a green paddy
• the grass grows thick — there they burn the dead
• morning dew, gently damp — i go where i want to go
• cuckoo — tomorrow i'll cross that mountain over there
• taking off my sedge hat, and quietly, deeply, getting wet

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• blazing sky, nowhere to hide, and water comes flowing
• in the blaze of noon the jizō's face all smiles
• not waiting, not not-waiting — moonlight on the weeds
• in the wind, gathering dead branches, walking on
• sunflowers — in the blaze of noon the machines set to rest
• the moon straight and full into the mosquito net — as if someone might come
• the loofah dangling has reached the ground
• picking the eggplant the evening shower has washed
• cricket — at least tomorrow's rice, i have that
• sure enough — on the first day of the equinox, spider lilies
• within reach, the fig ripening
• memory is the tide coming in at the home-village ferry landing
• in the soft steady rain i draw water
• i'll pick one, then make my meal
• suddenly thinking of my child — a shrike cries
• seeing the sun off beyond the mountains, then to my meal
• even at midday, a quiet fly knows the flyswatter
• the misery of no longer getting drunk — a cricket cries
• naked, being hit by the naked child
• truly good — the sound of the evening shower's water here and there
• at last the post has come, and after that only ripe persimmons falling
• falling — the persimmon leaves; blooming — the tea flowers at their height
• gathering the fruit that ripens and falls
• seeing someone off, coming home alone through the mud
• moonlit night — i rinse all the rice i have
• the sky's depth is water with sunken leaves
• where there's a stone, where there's grass, it's withered
• the moon to the jizō — it's turned cold now, hasn't it
• the sound of water never ceasing — briar berries
• the moon casting my shadow from behind, i cross the water
• sowing into the drizzle-wet earth
• he comes treading through fallen leaves, saying he's met his sweetheart
• snapping clean, a bamboo leans among the bamboo
• when the moon comes round the back, the thicket's shade
• on the roof of a meager life the snow melts and drips
• an unwilling parting — the day darkening early, the tenth-night moon
• the town in the twelfth month — the greengrocer's onions have sprouted
• this year too, only for tonight, it's turned to sleet
• what a gentle sky — two or three citrons
• a winter night, that leaves me here just so
• enough dead wood gathered for the fire — the mountain is clear
• when i fall ill, the flycatcher comes right up close
• called to, i turned around — a grove of fallen leaves
• into the snow, my footprints too press firmly on
• drinking sake, the mountain is withered
• quietly the snow falls — the small birds' affection
• the snow on the far mountains, and the one i've parted from too
• the brightness of snow — a stillness that fills the whole house
• the spearflower too — a lonesome one, its berry a single dot
• all withered now — the bush clover and the pampas grass, both soaked
• the camellia falls, the water flows
• waking, snow falling — not that i feel lonely, but
• as if someone might come, snow scattering here and there
• the owl in its way and i in mine, unable to sleep
• the train's rumble seems like daybreak too — the oak leaves rustling
• even when the moon comes round the back, the tree's shade
• when sun strikes the withered pampas grass, as if someone might come
• everything, made into gruel, warm
• even the bagworm dripping — spring has come, you know
• grasses and trees, come back alive and grown thick
• ill and alone, morning turning into evening — green leaves
• under a sky where the young persimmon leaves shine, i go on not dying
• bees and butterflies and grasses, blooming without end
• this morning even the water's sound seems like good news
• i'm a dog always chained, with nothing to do but bark
• truly quiet — the grass springs up and blooms
• the happiness of springing up, growing, blooming
• the paper screen closed on my solitude, an insect comes and taps
• the shadows too, sharp and clear — young leaves
• pop, out of the hole — a lizard, is it
• no one comes to visit — i simmer butterbur in soy
• cocks and cunts too, in the welling, overflowing bath
• glad things too, sad things too — the grass grows thick
• alone and hushed, the bamboo shoot becomes bamboo
• mountain peers out past mountain — the rainy season clears
• naked since morning, a dragonfly alights
• there's something to eat, something to get drunk on too — rain on the weeds
• under the blazing sky, endlessly, a line of ants
• the spider spins its web, i affirm myself
• able to die anytime — the grass blooming, bearing fruit
• in the blaze of noon, a single leaf falls
• the sky clears — butterflies, now two, now three
• the blue sky intimate, utterly still
• here am i, and the cicada crying, one whole day
• when the lilies bloom, for the jizō too a lily
• a wind has risen over the grass too — the tofu must be cool by now
• the wind blows through so cool — the bees too, the dragonflies too
• drinking the water of home bathing in the water of home
• I make this my place to die grass thick and still thicker
• who shall I give it to — drawing off the loofah water
• at the equinox I offer the equinox flowers to the Buddha
• spider lilies bloom and my home village is only graves now
• in the autumn wind, a praying mantis working itself into a rage
• taking its time the persimmons too ripen
• shouldering a heavy load and blind
• a cicada crying too close a cicada
• the moon rises from beyond the persimmon tree to above it
• sun reaches my bed persimmon leaves, plumes of susuki grass
• something is missing leaves keep falling
• he brings the mail eats a ripe persimmon and goes
• a shrike cries out and those leaves fall
• he came round the back way covered in grass burrs
• somehow I am still kept alive here among the weeds

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• the road I parted from runs straight on
• the moon too on the water's floor there is a travelling sky
• there's a willow so it's called the Willow Inn — a cool wind
• everyone in good health — the pumpkin flowers too
• no sooner does the shower clear than mountain crabs come out to play
• from here green rice fields and just the right heat of the bath
• waking from a nap mountains whichever way I look
• the journey somehow autumnal even the mist that hangs on the mountains
• a good inn mountains on both sides and a sake shop out front
• when I sit there is wind autumn weeds
• I'll sleep here grass seeds spilling
• bush clover, susuki grass — today's road
• just four or five trees out back and a cicada singing
• the road gives out and the trees are about to shed their leaves
• leaves fall and fall into my begging bowl too
• willow leaves fall and there I begin my begging
• a good road to a good building — it's the crematorium
• I'm taking the picture now — the maple leaves are falling
• walk and there are grass seeds sit and there are grass seeds
• spring has come — following the water's sound as far as it will go
• winterberry red and cheerful — white-eyes and buntings
• spring cold — the girl of the pleasure house came out with a coin for me
• now then, which way shall I go — the wind blows
• there is only this road spring snow falling
• today only this far — I take off my straw sandals
• the friendliness of a grassy hill — a warbler too is singing
• somewhere along the way the cherries bloomed — we meet and we part
• the old days of our teacher too — maple buds
• a tree has fallen I sit down on it
• waterfowl of our parting bobbing up and sinking down
• swallows darting to and fro — from journey to journey I lace my sandals
• we won't meet again — the cloudiness of budding trees
• walking and begging the sound of water goes on and on
• the water I wanted to drink was running with a sound
• deep in the mountains the butterbur shoots at least are in bloom
• the mountain being so still I take off my hat
• truly mountain country nothing but mountains and the moon's
• tomorrow I'll go home cherry blossoms fall keep falling down on me

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• the persimmons red — a house grows livable when you live in it, and this its tree
• heavy with young and stumbling — a cricket, is it?
• sunlight becomes at some point moonlight — the tree's shadow
• the two or three left behind turn to ripe persimmons — clouds coming and going
• everyone at work the reaped fields wide and wide
• no one comes and the chili peppers turn red
• falling ill the redness of a pickled plum
• however much I think on it it comes to the same thing — treading fallen leaves as I walk
• drawing water deep among fallen leaves how clear the water is
• lying down, getting up leaves keep falling
• waking clear-headed I feel the moon right overhead
• the moon is bright I draw and set aside some water
• waiting for you the fire burns like flame
• a little teahouse and chrysanthemums set in an empty bottle
• the sun peeks in a sleeping face at peace
• on a heart full of regret the sun shines and a small bird comes to sing
• treading the fallen leaves the tofu man came, so — tofu
• at the beauty of the withering grass I sit down
• winter comes again and another tooth falls out
• the taste I chew out of it too with teeth about to fall out
• the goodness of the bamboo — dripping in the morning wind
• cleared skies and New Year's Day the water brimming full
• moored here for the New Year, prows lined up in a row
• a crow on a bare tree — the New Year is over too
• from somewhere or other they come scattering down — the sentiment of leaves
• while the cold rain drizzles beautiful grass all around me
• living quietly and a wren comes
• dangling there in the falling snow a bagworm
• threatening snow that won't turn to snow the smoke of the factory district
• when it turns warm shadows of trees, shadows of people
• grown used to living here the wild camellia blooms on and on
• just as I am as a weed I put out buds
• walking in the warmth — camellias fall plop plop
• the wind just right and spring-like — thicket after thicket
• a slight bitterness too — the butterbur shoots of my old home
• swaying — the treetops seem to have swelled too
• white flowers from the mountain onto my desk
• some days even the longing for people — buds on the trees, buds on the grass
• voices drawing near — the tree buds bright
• rather than growing tall it blooms
• when the grass sways I somehow wait for someone
• tilling alone I find myself singing
• from the blossom-hazy window one chimney
• blooming quietly and falling
• a loquat withers a loquat sprouts — living alone
• bleats in the sun bleats in the clouds — one goat
• toward the sky young bamboo untroubled
• all around me nothing but grass and it's all in bloom
• flopping down flat on my back — blue sky
• seeking what do I go on into the wind
• letting the grass bloom and then letting the butterflies play
• deep into the green leaves a path still — and a grave
• that too will do — grass is blooming
• when the moon grows bright before you know it — katydids
• in the tree's shade there's a breeze — fellow travelers
• sunlight flickering — lizard and its shadow
• the brightness of the moon front and back — katydids
• the wind-chime of the season you seem about to come
• under the blazing sky pulling barnyard grass
• butterflies tangling together shade and sun
• already withering the blades of grass in the rain
• the crumbling house crumbling in secret — an evening cicada
• once I'm dead — weeds, rain falling
• with death before me a cool wind
• even the ringing of the wind-chime — death creeping near
• nothing left to regret — the taro leaves at evening flutter, flutter
• the wound healing it blows as an autumn-like wind
• autumn wind the sound of water polishing the stone
• bush clover spilling onto the path and now and then a visitor comes
• toward the moon the way the pampas plumes rise
• on the journey a telegraph pole in the evening light — a tsukutsukubōshi
• coming to the end of the road an autumn-touched sea brimming

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• in the water even the cloud-shadows leave something unsettled
• warmly the grass has withered away
• on the journey even the sasa swaying on Sasa-yama
• the spring-tide streamers snap and still they wave their hands
• my old home — the snow on that range of mountains shining
• spring snow falling the women are truly beautiful
• on an aimless journey the sleeve-grass has gathered this much
• standing still the wind crossing the sky far, far off
• even the drift of clouds — after the glory the water shines
• in the spring wind the doors open — namu amida butsu
• let's strike the bell on this lovely day
• what is holy — the pure-white rooster
• today I've come this far — withered reeds everywhere
• the ears of barley — it's not that I have no memories
• on the spring sea from somewhere or other a boat comes rowing
• Kamakura is fine — the moon has risen through the pines
• Izu is warm and good for sleeping outdoors the sound of waves too
• again shedding one layer journey after journey
• with relief there's the moon I've come to Tokyo
• flowers turning to leaves — Tokyo, farewell
• overtaken by nightfall — how good the water is around here
• pissing at my leisure among nothing but grass shoots
• walk — a cuckoo; hurry — a cuckoo
• larch needles fallen — dozing off, a dream of home
• Asama full in front of me — lunch out on the grass
• the depths of the mountain all budding
• pushing through green leaves — Ryōkan-sama must have gone this way too
• my heart empty the wild waves rush in and draw back
• crouched on the dune today too Sado is not to be seen
• flinging my legs out toward the wild sea — before and after the journey
• the clouds at the water's bottom too — early-summer rain of the northern sky
• meeting and parting the early-summer rain falls on
• the sound of water far and near walks me along
• the grass grows thick — foundation stones, here and there pooled water
• having come this far I drink the water and go
• the sound of water never ceasing I am here with the Buddha
• a butterfly fluttering has crossed the roof-tiles
• everyone has a house to return to — the coming and going of evening
• as the night deepens a cool moon from between the buildings
• today's footsteps the earliest come crossing the bridge
• once again here the grass grown thick and left that way
• the only sounds are mine alone
• the wind of a hangover blows sadly through
• even if the crow caws no one will come
• the goat sounds sad the grass is green
• tsukutsukubōshi crying tsukutsukubōshi
• when it rains there's the sound of water — how the grass thrives
• when the heart settles the sound of water
• fluttering butterfly cannot sing
• wet through little butterfly where are you going
• the sky clears wide open two radish leaves
• thinking of nothing the persimmon leaves fall and fall
• the faint scent of yuzu distant mountain ranges
• cheerfully they are picking persimmons
• naked the talk flows freely
• nothing left to cling to the vine withers
• where I wash the rice mizosoba has bloomed unnoticed
• the graveyard warm a butterfly
• in the fold of the hills here again this year gentians
• this morning cool I take my rice gruel
• may they bloom together white patrinia and golden
• someone far away parted from me the tsukudani I simmer
• whetting the sickle the sunset calm
• how much longer will I live the spider lilies have opened
• when the day's wind settles in the thicket a crescent moon
• that I was born as me and autumn deepens this me
• nothing to do but walk covered in seeds nothing to do but return
• there is warm white rice
• a shadow suddenly grazed past the wind
• following the light and dark of the wind
• when I stop the road runs toward the sound of water
• faintly blooming and mirrored in the water
• the grasses in bloom the dew spilling down
• the autumn wind blowing through and letting it blow through
• at last it opened and it was a white flower
• the fallen leaves shining wet persimmon leaves
• the heart full of regret spider lilies ablaze
• from deep in the soil of home a bell cricket
• down from the moon a flutter a persimmon leaf
• what am I waiting for day by day the fallen leaves grow deep
• the way the drying water clears
• as the grasses wither so you've come little wren
• thinking of Sumita the persimmon leaves fall and fall
• the wind is the loneliest thing I think plumes of pampas grass
• have you died right after laying your eggs mantis
• today one postcard in the wintry wind
• the beauty of the grasses hushed in the drizzle
• washed the radish grows whiter still
• the drizzling earth I break up and sow
• my shadow too chewing away late at night I am eating
• the bare winter tree in moonlight I'll go to sleep
• a taro happened to be lying there so I make taro gruel
• the drizzle washed the graves like a friend and passed on
• deep autumn I fetch water and return
• I make a fire for one
• given a live and quiet winter carp
• the grasses their beautiful way of withering
• straw stack after straw stack how warm
• those footsteps coming through the leaves I know them
• after all being alone is lonely withered grass
• the leaves fallen the neighbor's lamp grown closer
• out of the wind caw caw a crow
• the leaves fallen no leaves left to fall the sun
• nothing happening bare tree snow falling
• this year too draws to a close I blow the fire-tube
• the New Year comes I bought a bucket and it's full of water
• from today the new calendar's rising-sun flag
• dressed in rags bundled up wearing an auspicious face
• gathered together making a New Year's bonfire
• snow falls there is food to eat snow falls
• a sleety morning it burns well so I heap wood on wood
• keenly I feel I am being let live as I mend a tear
• the butterbur sprout that always comes up has come up
• still alive after all these tree buds and grass buds
• when it snows I buy sake and the price of sake has gone up too
• no sooner open than dripping the crimson camellia
• butterfly in the soft light will you climb to heaven
• one is enough I wash the rice in the pot

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• in the blazing heat a thousand-stitch belt one stitch at a time
• this bright moon what place is it bombing now
• autumn deepening further the rising-sun flags stream out
• treading firm the soil he may never tread again he marches to war
• drizzle falling the clouds tearing away I think of China
• utterly hushed the fatsia flowers bloom
• drizzle falling and how quietly six hundred fifty souls
• silent in the falling drizzle before a white box
• the warm foot of the hills here I will lay you to rest
• wintry wind two rising-sun flags this house sent two men off
• winter peony a brave letter came what relief
• onto snow snow falls they say the fighting is only beginning
• we must win the whole earth about to burst into bud all at once
• both valiant and sorrowful the white box
• the town in festival so you've come home as bones
• sweat drips down and down onto the pure-white box
• the ashes voiceless go across the water
• one fragment of it will become the soil of home autumn
• they all march off to war — the green of the mountains greener still
• the horse too called up — an old man and an old woman
• sound upon sound — rising-sun flags rattling
• eating this last bowl of Japanese rice — sweat
• eyes fixed, biting into eyes — eyes
• even the scarecrow gamely waving the rising-sun flag
• legs and hands left behind in China — back to Japan again

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• one bird playing in silence among the blossoms
• in the spring wind the bagworm pokes out its head
• poking out its head the bagworm does not sing
• carrying home the water I was given — warm, and spilling
• clack-clack clack-clack — what are they weaving — a fine spring day
• the sunny spot is glad — birds that sing and birds that don't
• all around me the grasses bloom as they please
• the greenness of the grass — coming home barefoot
• over grass left to bloom as it will — butterflies
• from thicket to pot — one bamboo shoot
• lined up, the bamboo shoots turning into bamboo
• close to my window the shoots become bamboo, day after day
• in the wind walking on, blaming myself
• the wind rises and sets me quietly thinking of myself
• waking to thunder close overhead I sit up straight
• gacha gacha gacha gacha — nothing to do but cry out
• waiting for whom — this evening the bush clover keeps falling
• the voices — surely people working this moonlit night
• the more the rain falls the brighter the leopard-plant flowers
• the sowing done a good rain comes — the color of the mountains
• vaguely, here and there, like leaves scattering
• an evening of quiet ease — mother spider, baby spider
• truly I cannot settle — the grass withering, withering
• cold rain falling — the last of the rice cooked up well
• at the crematory a puddle mirrors the clouds — cold
• death is a chill sky — far off the clouds move on
• death pressing close — chili peppers, deep scarlet
• the stillness of death — clear sky, a tree with no leaves
• there I set the moon before death
• somehow the dust on the desk turns wintry
• grass seeds on my sleeves, on my hem — warm
• withered pampas grass, withered utterly — the snow piling down
• set loose in the water the winter carp all swimming
• find one and there are butterburs — two, three
• butterbur buds — this year too, here, butterbur buds
• since we parted it snows every single day
• I set out udon — mother, I too will eat
• in Gochū one man, always one man — the grass sprouting
• snapping dead branches, thinking of nothing
• one smooth peel — the whiteness of the leek
• the flycatcher, alone again, cries and cries
• walking with no aim between grave and grave
• shut into itself the wild camellia blooms and drops
• spring has come — quick, an insect has arrived
• crying, two or three — spring crows
• the coughing won't stop — no hand to pat my back
• opening the window — a windowful of spring
• stillness — the bamboo shoots have all become bamboo
• living alone the grass grows green and green
• dawn glow, dusk glow — nothing to eat
• my first grandchild born, they say — a wind-bell ringing
• catching the rain a pailful of beautiful water
• leaping, one red frog
• the cranesbill blooms as its own quiet flower
• another day ending, a little sunset glow
• sitting in the grass eating plain rice, plain rice, savoring it
• sitting in the grass — plain rice, plain rice

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• reed plumes go where the wind wants to go
• close to my body the water comes flowing
• from nowhere in particular clouds appear — autumn clouds
• the good taste of the rice — the blue, blue sky
• flopped down in the grass — my loincloth has dried
• the pleasure quarter — night not yet broken — a row of leafy willows
• autumn wind — going where I want to go, as far as I can go
• through a gap between buildings the mountains show — that blueness
• the morning rain just enough to dampen the stones
• the frost white — someone lies dead, just like that
• spreading the grass we share a boxed lunch, then right and left
• sowing into the morning light, then setting out
• a quick lift across the ferry — early-spring ripples
• how everything looks good enough to eat — the shop window
• water on the stones — making it a spring night
• that storehouse just as it was — aucuba berries
• hushed, a butterbur bud — let me rest here
• since I stopped meeting people — mountain butterflies
• suddenly thoughts of home — the sansho buds
• a body that can die anywhere — spring wind
• brimming, becoming spring water, it overflows
• across the water a man and a woman talk without end
• traveler that I am, let me dig clams with you a while
• in the soft spring sun a butterfly lies dead
• cherries in full bloom — and the prison
• the white peach buds i tossed in — open, open, quickly now
• the peach has set its fruit and you are already gone
• in the soft spring light a slag heap is only a slag heap
• big bridge little bridge — fireflies, fireflies
• no way but to follow this road though the grass grows deep
• i happened to call and that magnolia was in bloom
• deciding to stay the night — my hometown's onion flowers
• home is where the lettuce-and-miso tastes good — being home
• the house i was born in not a trace left — fireflies
• the morning-after goldfish floats up dead
• at last i find the house — the evening cicadas

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• how good the water is — the frogs are croaking
• letting the moon into my bed i settle down to sleep
• sprung up in the graveyard, blooming, how beautiful
• sultry heat — living things within living things
• this is water that trickles down from the mountain
• a whirligig quiet on water welling up and brimming over
• in a corner the flower of the mitsuba
• even the blackness of the rice reassuring as i wash it
• my navel has gathered a little sweat
• looks like rain — the neighbor too is sowing radishes
• a daughter and her mother come carrying lotus flowers
• thunder crashes and fragrant the flower pure white
• going to beg for rice in the wind
• sun into the mountain, moon out of the mountain, persimmons heavy on the bough
• the bush clover blooms and sure enough a mantis is there
• the katydid sings — so it is alive after all
• making this my grave — the red spider lilies blaze
• all around me day by day the grasses i love come into bloom
• work and work and still the plumes of pampas grass
• not so much reaping, not so much digging — sowing
• dewy indeed the flower of the dayflower
• air-raid warning — piled up and red the persimmons
• under the blackout a fine child is born — a boy
• burn it all and only this much ash — the wind blows
• the hand that cannot die shakes the bell, shakes it
• far off, close by, somewhere deep it is calling
• the wall crumbles and out of it a vine
• that is a butterfly's dance before death
• the moon unseen — moonlit water brimming full
• one bird comes and it is a bird that does not sing
• become a fly at autumn's end i go crawling along
• the evening water ruffles a little
• a fire burning and burning, beautifully
• the hand i grip hard, a hand of chapped and cracking skin
• a convict's grave, and secretly the grass springs green
• at last a household of their own — a brand-new bucket
• buds on the trees buds on the grass — from here on
• always in the red and somehow, somehow — a butterbur shoot
• one bloom on my desk opening at its leisure
• the journey too — tadpoles are already swimming
• down from the spring mountain rolling, rolling, little stones
• the crow crying, the crow flying, nowhere to settle
• the wind blows through from the sea — onion flowers
• come all this long way — alone on the rocky point
• round the bend a wind — the sea is near — a field of peas
• the holy mountain deep in silence dripping — truly real, not false
• blossom-clouded sky — the piano lesson has begun
• the road through the middle of the water runs straight
• sitting down on a stone — so it was a grave
• where the water stands full a toad swims
• the sound of water — today too i travel alone
• the mountain's stillness is a white flower
• sure enough the moon of Shinano has come out
• the moon of a travel night slowly, slowly waning
• this water that water the sound of water becoming the Tenryū
• where the streams meet here — the sound, the mountain cherries
• this road how many years — the great horse chestnut buds
• cannot get comfortable, the quilt heavy, i lie down to sleep
• how deeply, quietly the dust on my desk
• heaving up the morning earth in puffs — a mole
• dried up, dried right out — stones rolling everywhere
• a fire — let it rain, it blazes up praying
• no water anywhere — sweating over the withered field they work
• naked every day — butterflies and dragonflies
• under the blazing sky the rails run straight
• the water i begged and carry back spills — how cool
• you bell-ringing cricket — striking your bell, where are you
• the brightness of the moon — a traveling couple's murmured talk
• a bird far, far off enters the clouds — i see it off
• today's heat — the tobacco shop has no tobacco
• the moon shines perfectly clear right over the prison
• a crow goes flying — let me cross the water

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• muddy water flowing on grows clear

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