Short Poems

As evening came, I went to the outer shrine [of Ise]. Under the first torii, it was dusky, and with holy lanterns visible here and there, and unsurpassing pine winds from the peaks almost piercing my body, I was deeply moved:
The month's last day, no moon — a storm hugs the cedars of a thousand years

Later, spending some time at Bokusetsu's hut in Otsu:
Putting my feet on the cool, cool wall, I take a nap

On the road to Nara:
It's spring! nameless mountains in morning haze

On the day when we passed the Barrier [Hakone], the entire mountain [Fuji] was hidden in clouds:
In mists and rains, the day I do not see Fuji is fun

In Hatchobori:
Chrysanthemums bloom among masons' stones

On a tour to compose hokku:
In a rape field sparrows look as if out to view the flowers

Having been given some kindling by Jokushi's wife while holing up for the winter:
I'll make a fire tonight to melt the frost on my roof

Early in the ninth month I went back to my birthplace; the day lilies of the north hall had died off in the frost, now with no trace left. Everything had changed from the past; my siblings had white hair on their temples, wrinkles on their brows. We could say no more than, " We are alive. " My brother opened his amulet and said, " Look at mother's white hair. Urashima's comb box — your eyebrows have grown old, too. " He wept for a while:
If taken in hand, autumn frost will melt — the tears are hot

Hozo Pass:
In the sky above the skylarks I rest at a mountaintop pass

Of myself:
Hair grown and face pale in this May rain