Short Poems

( NOV. 22, 1875, MIDNIGHT—SATURN AND MARS IN CONJUNCTION )
After an interval, reading, here in the midnight,
With the great stars looking on—all the stars of Orion looking,
And the silent Pleiades—and the duo looking of Saturn and ruddy Mars;
Pondering, reading my own songs, after a long interval, (sorrow and death familiar now,)
Ere closing the book, what pride! what joy! to find them,
Standing so well the test of death and night!
And the duo of Saturn and Mars!

Hair washed,
she wrings it out
like a wad of pickled greens

Gray gray of frosty grasses, insects chirp-chirping;
south of the village, north of the village, no sign of travelers.
Alone I go out in front of the gate, gazing over the fields;
in the bright moonlight, buckwheat blossoms like snow.

The gaudy leaves of autumn
won't let the temple
be temple-like

Ferry service suspended,
he polishes the wording
in his travel diary

The servant:
The gourd of wine
he buys and
brings home from the market —
it never warms
his chilly night

Dew on it,
the mountain trail will be cold —
before you head home
how about a last drink of sake?

By your leave,
O world —
for leave I must —
and may a whiff of incense
waft me on my way

Begging food, I went to the city,
on the road met a wise old man.
He asked me, " Master, what are you doing
living there among those white-clouded peaks? "
I asked him, " Sir, what are you doing
growing old in the middle of this red city dust? "
We were about to answer, but neither had spoken
when fifth-watch bells shattered my dream.

All through the night
in my grass hut
burning brushwood,
how we talked on and on —
when will I forget it?