Classics  
Yosa Buson, or Yosa no Buson (与謝蕪村), was a Japanese poet and painter from the Edo period. Along with Matsuo Bashō and Kobayashi Issa, Buson is considered among the greatest poets of the Edo Period. Buson was born in the village of Kema in Settsu Province (now Kema-chō, Miyakojima Ward ... Read more
Yosa Buson, or Yosa no Buson (与謝蕪村), was a Japanese poet and painter from the Edo period. Along with Matsuo Bashō and Kobayashi Issa, Buson is considered among the greatest poets of the Edo Period. Buson was born in the village of Kema in Settsu Province (now Kema-chō, Miyakojima Ward ... Read more

The old man
cutting barley--
bent like a sickle.

The spring sea rising
and falling, rising
    and falling all day.

White blossoms of the pear
and a woman in moonlight
    reading a letter.

The willow leaves fallen,
the spring gone dry,
    rocks here and there.

The winter river;
down it come floating
flowers offered to Buddha.

Washing the hoe--
ripples on the water;
    far off, wild ducks.

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.

He's on the porch,
to escape the wife and kids--
how hot it is!

Lighting one candle
with another candle--
    spring evening.

Listening to the moon,
gazing at the croaking of frogs
in a field of ripe rice.

Before the white chrysanthemum
the scissors hesitate
    a moment.

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

A bat flits
in moonlight
above the plum blossoms.

Evening wind:
water laps
    the heron's legs.

The behavior of the pigeon
is beyond reproach,
but the mountain cuckoo?

Harvest moon--
called at his house,
he was digging potatoes.

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

My arm for a pillow,
I really like myself
under the hazy moon.

 
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