Yosa Buson Poems

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

Spring

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

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

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

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

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

Blown from the west,
fallen leaves gather
in the east.
...

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

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

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