Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The Spring of My Life: And Selected Haiku by Kobayashi Issa
Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.
The man pulling radishes
pointed my way
with a radish.
Napping at midday
I hear the song of rice planters
and feel ashamed of myself.
******* in the snow
outside my door--
it makes a very straight hole.
Writing **** about new snow
for the rich
is not art.
What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.
Summer night--
even the stars
are whispering to each other.
The pheasant cries
as if it just noticed
the mountain.
In this world
we walk on the roof of hell,
gazing at flowers.
In spring rain
a pretty girl
    yawning.
A cuckoo sings
to me, to the mountain,
    to me, to the mountain.
All the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes.
4.8k
The crow
The crow
walks along there
as if it were tilling the field.
4.8k
That wren
That wren--
looking here, looking there.
You lose something?
New Year's morning:
the ducks on the pond
quack and quack.
Napped half the day;
no one
punished me!
Children imitating cormorants
are even more wonderful
than cormorants.
His death poem:

        A bath when you're born,
        a bath when you die,
        how stupid.
The moon tonight--
I even miss
her grumbling.
This moth saw brightness
in a woman's chamber--
burnt to a crisp.
With my father
I would watch dawn
over green fields.
A huge frog and I,
staring at each other,
neither of us moves.
Having slept, the cat gets up,
yawns, goes out
to make love.
Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.
The snow is melting
and the village is flooded
with children.
Blossoms at night,
and the faces of people
moved by music.
That pretty girl--
munching and rustling
the wrapped-up rice cake.
These sea slugs,
they just don't seem
Japanese.
The toad! It looks like
it could belch
a cloud.
Approaching my village:

        Don't know about the people,
        but all the scarecrows
        are crooked.
Hey, sparrow!
out of the way,
    Horse is coming.
Not knowing
it's a tub they're in
the fish cooling at the gate.
New Year's Day--
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.
Asked how old he was,
the boy in the new kimono
stretched out all five fingers.
Under my house
an inchworm
measuring the joists.
Even with insects--
some can sing,
some can't.
No doubt about it,
the mountain cuckoo
is a crybaby.
Ducks bobbing on the water--
are they also, tonight,
hoping to get lucky?
I'm going out,
flies, so relax,
make love.
Visiting the graves,
the old dog
leads the way.
Last time, I think,
I'll brush the flies
from my father's face.
Even on the smallest islands,
they are tilling the fields,
skylarks singing.
2.7k
Windy fall
At my daughter's grave, thirty days
after her death:

        Windy fall--
        these are the scarlet flowers
        she liked to pick.
It once happened
that a child was spared punishment
through earnest solicitation.
2.6k
Seen
Seen
through a telescope:
ten cents worth of fog.
In these latter-day,
Degenerate times,
   Cherry-blossoms everywhere!
Not very anxious
to bloom,
my plum tree.
Under the image of Buddha
all these spring flowers
seem a little tiresome.
2.5k
How much
How much
are you enjoying yourself,
tiger moth?
In the thicket's shade
a woman by herself
singing the rice-planting song.

— The End —