Yosa Buson Poems

Coolness--
the sound of the bell
as it leaves the bell.
...

Dawn--
fish the cormorants haven't caught
swimming in the shallows.
...

Spring

The year's first poem done,
with smug self confidence
...

Blow of an ax,
pine scent,
the winter woods.
...

Early summer rain--
houses facing the river,
two of them.
...

Before the white chrysanthemum
the scissors hesitate
a moment.
...

A bat flits
in moonlight
above the plum blossoms.
...

Not quite dark yet
and the stars shining
above the withered fields.
...

Buying leeks
and walking home
under the bare trees.
...

Calligraphy of geese
against the sky--
the moon seals it.
...