The summer grasses
All that remains
Of brave soldiers dreams

What fish feel,
birds feel, I don't know--
    the year ending.

Blowing stones
along the road on Mount Asama,
    the autumn wind.

Forgive me if my pain has touched you in ways my hands never have
You’ve got wounds I should have kissed gently and fire beneath your skin

Instead I bought you flowers you’re allergic to and wrote poems about your tears

Some days I tend to over-romanticise your bleeding lips that you never stop biting
Other days I can’t stand the way your lips curve when you laugh and the freckles on your hands

I’m a mess but believe me when I say my hands are clean
I’m just trying to love you
Even if it’s the wrong way

Fana no iro Fa
uturi ni keri na
itadura ni
waga mi yo ni Furu
nagame sesi ma ni


The colour of this flower
Has already faded away,
While in idle thoughts
My life goes by,
As I watch the long rains fall.

omo Fitutu
nureba ya Fito no
mieturan
yume to siriseba
samezaramasi wo

Was I lost in thoughts of love
When I closed my eyes? He
Appeared, and
Had I known it for a dream
I would not have awakened.

A catfish laughs.
It thinks of other catfishes
In other ponds.

Like the little stream
Making its way
Through the mossy crevices
I, too, quietly
Turn clear and transparent.

Down in the village
the din of
flute and drum,
here deep in the mountain
everywhere the sound of the pines.

at dusk
i often climb
to the peak of kugami.
deer bellow,
their voices
soaked up by
piles of maple leaves
lying undisturbed at
the foot of the mountain.