Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa

I remember morning
Peeping through the curtains' awning
As I just lay there
With my gal just begging for it bare.

Every Texan city
Where I've dropped my pants
Ain't so ******* pretty
Without love and romance.

I'll ne'er forget Amarillo
Every night I'd grease her *****
I dream dreams of Amarillo
And the girl who ****** me there.

Is this the way to Amarillo?
Where I kissed an armadillo
Crying over her huge *****
And sweet Edna's ***** hair.

Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
And the girl who ****** me there.

There's a church bell ringing
Welcoming the KY-gel I'm bringing
Though I may be poor
I'm the guy who's coming to do her.

Just beyond the highway
There's an open door
And I can't stop running
To **** that little *****.

I can't forget Amarillo
And Edna's mighty *****
I dream dreams of Amarillo
And the girl who ****** me there.

Which is the way to Amarillo?
I've been weeping on my pillow
Clutching to her huge great *****
And sweet Edna's public hair.

Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
And sweet Edna's ***** hair

Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Wah wa wa wa wa wa
Lovely Edna's ***** hair

THE RAT AND THE PREGNANT WOMAN


A story poem

BY

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)



Dedicated to;
My mother Neddy Nabisino Mayende Kuloba Makhakara
And her mother Maritini Nabengele Nasenya Mulemia Namugugu Ilungu wa Wenwa.
The story telling power of these two ladies is the primary source of my passion and love for humorous and peace bettling stories. I owe them all the recognitions.







OPENING SONG
How do I start telling this story that I got from my
Grandmothers when sited around the fire yard in the evening?
I don’t know how to start surely,
For to day I am very shy; all of your eyes
Are on me, looking at me like ocean of looking organs
But let me embolden my self with the belt
Of a story teller that my grand father gave me
And commanded me to preach peace
Through story telling in every place I go
So my spiritual service to humanity is telling stories
Is to soothe and heal wounds of humanity
By softly telling peaceful stories
Let me then cough to clear my voice and start;

Long time ago, but not very long time
Some where between the centuries of twelve hundred
And seventeen hundred after the death of the other Jewish
Story teller who died without a wife, who died on the cross
But others say he died on the stake, his name was Jesus,
There existed only two kingdoms in land which is known today
As Bukusu land found in the present east Africa or Indian Ocean coastal Africa,
The first occupants of this vast land is the sons and daughters of Babukusu
Or the ones who like selling ironsmith products
And hence the name the people of Bukusu; the people who sell,
The two kingdoms were the Kingdom of muntu and the kingdom of manani
The citizens in the kingdom of muntu were short men and short women
Handsome and beautiful, slender and not assertive in their physical disposition
But the citizens of the kingdom of manani were all cyclopic,
In their everything; the manner of walking, talking farting, micturating
Farming, breathing, snoring, smiling, singing, whispering
Their whisper was a noisy as the tropical thunderclap
They were tall men and tall women, very tall
Their young person was as short as the tallest
Person in the kingdom of muntu,
When one of the citizen of manani snores
All the citizens of Muntu along together with,
Their king Walumoli wa Muntu had no option
But remain awake throughout the night,
Because the cacophony of a snore from
The sleeping courts of Manani was not bearable,

On many occasions Walumoli wa Muntu
The conscientious king of the muntu kingdom
Had arranged to talk to Silinki wa Namunguba
The ostensible king of the Manani Kingdom
About the cacophonous sleep robbing
Snores of daughters and sons in neighbour kingdom of Manani
Only to cow and chicken away in a feat of prudence
Lest Silinki wa Namunguba will suspect him for being
A night runner or a thief of *** perhaps
Who roams his compound during the wee of the night
In hunt of any of Namunguba’s wife maybe
Perchance having gone out for a mid-night *******,
This is how legendary snores of the sons and daughters
Of Silinki wa Namunguba the king of Manani
Has remained unchecked for ever till today,

One time an ugly passer by happened to be seen
Traversing the kingdom of muntu
In the early afternoon some two
Hours after Walumoli the king
Had just cleared the last plate
Of the mid day meal from
His last wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
He always eats her food last in the afternoon
Because it comes on the table steaming youthfulness
He loves his Khatembete wife, the wife of his old age
The wife he married by use and show of the royal regalia
The powers and dignity of the king of muntu
He married her when he his a king, the scepter in his hand,

Going back to the ugly passer by
It was never known where he came from
Not from the east where the Indian Ocean is
Not from the west where the vastness of the land
Of black people of Baganda and Bacongo
Baigbo and Bayoruba or Bafulana of Nigeria
Or the sons of Madiokor Ngoni Diop in the Senegal,
Not from the south from shaka the Zulu and Mandella the wise one
Not from north in the land of Dinka and Nuer, Ethiopian Jewish and the Egyptians,
The passerby was ugly and from no where, in a dress and
A very ***** dress that fumed out a malodorously stenching reek
He was a man in attires of a woman; this was a taboo in the land of muntu
He was left handed and a heavy weight stammerer, with an appalling
Protuberation of   a hunched back, an enormous hunchback
Enmassing entired of his masculine shoulders,
When the wind blew his loose dress followed it
Leaving the man’s thighs and then bossom naked,
Leading bystanders to a strange discovery; he was not circumcised
He was old like any other father, he had beards
But not yet circumcised, his ***** ends in corkscrew of a sheath,
This was a taboo in the land of muntu, in the kingdom of muntu
Which Walumoli wa Muntu the son of Mukitang’a Mutukuika ruled
For the spirits, gods and ancestors as well as foremen of the kingdom
Behooved that all male offsprings of the kingdom of muntu
Whether born in marriage or out of the wedlock
Born the blood or born as a ******* must and must be
Circumcised in the early teen hood
They must be circumcised before they grow the hairs
On the face, on the chest, in the scapula and on the areas
Surrounding the testicles, the **** and the endings of the backbone,
The man again had six fingers on the legs and on the hands
He walks slowly like a porcupine, his dress was in tartars
He was violent to every one he met
Insulting old people and old women with words
Of bad manners not used in the kingdom of muntu,
He terrified and beat young children, including the royal children
And grand children of Walumoli the king of muntu
He again had to beat and chase nine young virgins
Who had come from the palace of Walumoli the king of Muntu
Away from the forest when they picking fire wood
As well as playing a game of hide and seek with other palace lads,
The ugly passer by then chased to get hold of the
Nalukosi the first born daughter of
Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
The beloved last wife of the king of Muntu
All other virgins ran home, but Nalukosi remained behind
In the inextricable grip of the ugly passer by
She screamed with hysteria of a hypochondriac
She screamed and kicked with her wholesome mighty
The stubborn passer by never left her alone
She gnawed the ugly passer by with
Her girlish claws of her fingernails
But is like the passer by was mentally disordered
He was a ******* of some time
He derived some pleasure and instead
Enjoyed the girlish scratches of his captive,
Before the eight running virgins reached the palace
Together with their companions, the playmate lads
The shrilling scream of the captive Nalukosi
Was sharply heard at the palace, first by King Walumoli
Who called his wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
To come out of the hut, the kitchen and help to listen,
Immediately Mukisu wa Mujonji the palace keeper surfaced
His face displayed genuine askance of an adept military man
Whose martial arts have rusted for a week without usage
He confirmed to the king that the cry from the forest
Is of the one from this royal home of your majesty the king
And none other than the ****** princes Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The pride of her father, the eye of the palace,
Without hesitation the king permitted the wallabying Mukisu ,
Permission to run in a military dint and find out whatever that
Was eating Nalukosi Mukoyonjo the familial heart of the king,
Mukisu wa Mujonji who was clearly known in the kingdom of muntu,
For his swift running like a desert kite, he already twice chased
And gotten single handedly two male gazelles,
Without aid of a dog nor aid of fellow hunters
And delivered them to the king as a present to the palace
Which he achieved because of the speed of his legs,
On this royal permission he unsheathed his matchette
And went away like any arrow from the bow
His shirt trailing behind him like mare’s tail
Or like the flag on the post on a windy day,
Not a lot of time passed.
Mukisu wa Mujonji is at the spot of struggle,
Between Nalukosi and the Ugly passerby
There was no question or talking,
The first thing was Mukisu to sink the Matchette
With all of his mighty into the tummy of the ugly stranger
The bowels of the ugly stranger opened puffwiiii!
He breathed and gasped twice then succumbed to death.
His grip still strong on the leg of Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The ugly passer by reached the rigor Mortis
When Nalukosi was still strongly gripped in his
Beastly hand, Mukisu wa Mujonji with all the skills
Used a Sharp matchette again; chopped of the hand
Of the ugly dead passer by off, from its torso
At the point of the muscular elbow,
Now Nalukosi was extricated, but not fully
From the grip of the dead ugly stranger,
The chopped off hand is still knotted at her leg
Around her leg, the dead hand also grips.
Nalukosi jumped here and there to throw away
The leg and the dead hand, but it was not easy to throw
The hand still stubbornly gripped around her angle,
*** time passed, each and every one of the kingdom came
Including the king Walumoli wa Muntu himself
And his nine wives, Khatembete Khobwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
Came last, as she was energyless due to rudely shocking tidings
Which the escaping virgins and lads had given her
That the ugly passer by had turned into the ogre
And had swallowed her daughter Nalukosi
That he had swallowed her piecemeal without chewing,
People of muntu came and found the ugly passerby dead
The left had chopped off its torso
But still hanging loosely on the leg of Nalukosi
Nalukosi jumping, kicking, screaming
Screaming away the dead hand from the grip of leg
But nothing had forthcame her way,
Walumoli wa Muntu could not afford to see
The hand on the leg of her beloved daughter
What could he tell his wife, is your all know
Dear reader and audience to this song;
Even the mighty and the wise ones
Generously bend when under the pressure of love,
Out of this dint, even before Mukisu wa Mujonji
Could display his next military card
Walumoli wa Muntu grapped the dead hand
That stuck of the leg of her daughter
And pulled it with another force that
No man born of woman has
Never used since the creation of the earth
By the gods and spirits of Muntu,
The hand come off, he throw it
On the cadaver of the ugly stranger,
He clicked and clicked and hissed
With anger like a wild turkey
In the African thorny forest,
He ordered the dead one to be buried
Their without haste, nor ceremony
Mukisu wa Mujonji buried the body
Quickly in a brief moment with precision
As if he was taking notes
From the lines of the poem
OF Pablo Neruda on how
To bury a dog behind the house
This time burying an ugly stranger
Behind the forts of the kingdom,
After all these women, children and men
Of muntu plus their king Walumoli
Went back to their houses hilariously
Broken into a song and a wild *** dance;
Makoe eehe! Makoe !
Nifwe Talangi Makoe !
Talangi!
Khwaula embogo sitella
Nifwe Talangi!
They sang up to midnight before
They all retired to their beds
Respective beds with panting thoraces
From heavy singing and dancing.

There is connection and disconexion between
The living and the dead, the living fear the dead
And dead loves the living,
The dead want the company of the living
For the living to accompany in the land of the dead,
When the ugly stranger was killed
And buried uncircumcised with the hunch
Not plucked out of his back
The gods and the livings dead
In the realm of the ancestors
Of the kingdom of Muntu were not happy,
They never wanted uncircumcised old man
With a hunch back to join them
And worse enough with the six fingers,
The gods and ancestors really god annoyed
That Walumoli wa Muntu has done them bad
He is only caring for the living, the pre-mortals
Especially his last wife and the daughter
But he has neglected the ancestors,
Why trash to ancestors a stark humanity,
They communed among themselves
And resolved to sent Namaroro
The god of dreams, dreams as messages
From the ancestors and dreams from the gods
Namaroro visited Namunyu Lubunda the palace
Prophet in the Kingdom of Muntu to pass
The message vesseling unhappiness of the ancestors
And gods in a blend of gloomy read to execute
A vendetta;
This is when in the wee of the night that Namunyu Lubunda
Dreamed and had a vision of a old man from
The east is warning of the coming long spell of starvation
That will befall the kingdom of Muntu for ten years
                                      That Namaroro told Namunyu Lubunda
As for ten seasons of foodlessness
Behold a begging kingdom
Behold a starving throne,
The scepter of Muntu is a disgrace
To the holder
Then Namunyu Lubunda set forth by dawn
To the Palace to meet Walumoli wa Muntu
In his, palace before any other royal chores come up,
Both good and bad luck combined
Only to have Namunyu Lubunda to get the king at the palace
He got him fresh and relaxed chewing the cup of fortune
In his full ego, all his wives had submitted to the morning dishes
To his dining hall in the palace, he moved his hands from
One plate of food to the other.
Namunyu Lubunda entered with a submissive salutation
To the royal, He bowed and declared the glory of the king
In typical standards of the ethnic composition of the house of Muntu
Walumoli wa Muntu Mukitang’a Mutukuika
Majave Kutusi Mbirira Omwene esimbo ya
Kumukasa,
Walumoli responded with a feat of dignity to Namunyu Lubunda
The palace prophet, as he roared to him; come in
Come in son of Lubunda son of our people,
He did mention the name of Namunyu Lubunda father
As he fears his words may escape with the power
Of his kingdom the scepter of Muntu
To other insignificant families in the kingdom,
Let me announce what brings me here; intoned Namunyu
Go ahead and announce my holiness
s the prophet of this kingdom; responded Walumoli,
Misfortune is awaiting the kingdom
It will eat this kingdom away
Like a ravenous hyena on the ewe’s tail
The ancestors and the spirits of this land
This kingdom of yours the son of Muntu
Are immensely offended with your recent behaviour
In which you commandeered all villages
In your kingdom; from east and west
The **** the innocent passer by
With your owner hands that handle the scepter
You killed and lay to rest the foreigner
A pure omurende to the kingdom of muntu
You buried him uncircumcised without contrite
In the cemeteries of our foremen who asleep and circumcised
Why did you lower the dignity of our forefathers
Who never share a roof with uncircumcised person
To share the ancestral realm; our emagombe
With hunchback foreigner not circumcised?
This kingdom is condemned to all spell of curse of death
Ceaseless hunger famines and starvation
Women dwindle in their reproductive capacity
Rarely will you come across a pregnant woman
Food will be difficulty to put on the table
Even the sweat of your brow will go to naught,
You will not be buried with insignia
Like a pauper you killed will you be buried
The house of your wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo
Khakhalikha no bwoya is a house of no consequences
For even your daughter Nalukosi stands cursed
She will not mature to be wedded into a marriage
She will hover the earth under heavy agonies of hunger,
My assignment is done and over
With or without your permission let me go.









THE FIRST SONG
Our song continues dear brethren
Come join me in arms we sing
Joyous singing of these songs of peace
Telling the world peaceful stories
As we enjoy sitting together around my grandmothers fire yard
Warming our selves to her lovely fire inherent in her good stories,
These songs will sing the glory and success of the king of Manani
It is an irregular Ode to Silinki wa Namunguba the son of Mwangani,
The son of Tunduli, the son of Wajala Njovu, the son of Welikhe, the son
Of manyorori, the son of Chumbe, the son of Kajo, the Son of Mabati, the son of welotia,
The son of sikele sia mulia, the son of Toywa,the son of siruju, the son of Mango, the son of Mulwoni sinyanya Bakhasi, the son of Mbakara , the son of Makhakara wa Nambuya, the son of Mukoye mulala kukhalikha w0nga, the son of Zumba the son of God.
Silinki

Karapatang Ari 2016
WMSU MABUHAY ESU
DONWARD CAÑETE GOMEZ BUGHAW


Kung isa-isahin ang nangakaraan
Simula no'ng ika'y aking niligawan
Hanggang sa dumating ating hiwalayan,
Maikuk'wento ko ng walang alangan.

Unang kita palang, napaibig ako
Sa isang babae at Nimfang tulad mo;
Puso ko'y nahulog ng di napagtanto,
Siguro'y pakana ito ni Kupido.

Iyong itinanong, "Ikaw ba si Donward?"
Ako'y napatigil nang dahil sa gulat
Ako ay lumingo't ikaw ay hinarap,
Aking itinugon isang tango't kindat.

Nang ako'y lumabas na sa isang silid
Hindi ko mawari't ikaw ay nawaglit;
Ako ay nalumbay sa nasahing pilit
Ano't ang tadhana ay nagmamalupit.

Gusto ko pa namang ika'y makilala
Paanong nangyari't agad kang nawala,
Hindi tuloy kita natanong o sinta
Sa iyong pangalan na pang-engkantada.

Aking inusisa ang aking sarili:
"May pag-asa pa bang makita kang muli?
May tadhana kayang magtatagpo uli
Sa ating dalawa kahit na sandali?"

Hanggang isang araw, nang aking makita
Iyong kaibigang naglakad mag-isa
Agad kong tinanong kung ika'y nagsimba
Marahan n'yang sagot nasa tuluyan ka.

Pagkatapos niyon tinanong ko na s'ya
Sa iyong pangalan na may pagkad'yosa
Agaran niyang sagot, "Devina Mindaña,
Ang buong pangalan ng aking kasama.

Nagpatuloy kami sa pagkuk'wentuhan
Habang naglalakad sa tabi ng daan
Hanggang sa dumating ang aming usapan
Sa punto na ako ay kanyang mabuk'han.

Diretsahang tanong ay 'may gusto ka ba,
Sa kaibigan kong nanuot sa ganda?'
Sagot ko'y mistula isang tugong parsa,
Naging dahilan ko'y, 'Naku, wala! Wala!'

Imbis na makuha, siya ay natawa
At nang tanungin ko'y naging sagot niya:
"Subukan mo nalang ang ligawan siya
At baka maantig, batong puso niya.

Ni minsan ay hindi siya nagkaroon
ng isang siyota, pagkat umaambon
ang pangarap niyang gustong maisulong
ang makapagtapos at ang makaahon."

Pagkasabi niyon, ako ay nangusap:
"Diyata't parehas kami ng pangarap,
Kapwa puso namin ay nangangagliyab
Sa iisang nais na para sa bukas."

Nagpatuloy kami sa aming usapan
Hanggang sa tuluyang siya'y namaalam.
"Ako'y ikumusta sa 'yong kaibigan,"
Wika ko nang siya'y tumawid sa daan.

Nagpatuloy ako sa aking paglakad
Hanggang sa marating ang nagliliwanag
nating pamantasang nagtatahang huwad
ng dunong at puring nanahanang likas.

Nagdaan ang gabi't umaga na naman
Pagsulat ng tula'y aking sinimulan,
Yaong tulang handog sayo kamahalan
Nitong si Balagtas, Donward ang pangalan.

Ang iyong pangalan ang naiititik
Niyong aking plumang espadang matulis;
Ang tinta ay dugong may hinalong pawis
Nitong aking huli't wagas na pag-ibig.

Ngunit sa kabila, niyong aking katha
Aking nalimutan ang lahat ng bigla
Maging pangalan mo, sintang minumutya
Kung kaya't nagtanong uli ang makata.

"Siya ang babaeng aking naibigan,"
Pagkukuwento ko kay Jesang huwaran
Nang ika'y nakitang naglakad sa daan
Kasama ang dal'wa mo pang kaibigan.

At nang naguluha'y aking itinuro,
Pagkatapos niyo'y siyang aking sugo;
Si Jesang huwaran ay parang kabayo,
Ika'y sinalubong ng lakarang-takbo.

Agad kang tinanong sa iyong pangalan
Katulad ng aking naging kautusan.
Nang ika'y tawagin -- o kay saklap naman
Di mo man lang ako nagawang balingan.

Nang aking tanungin si Jesang huwaran,
Nang siya'y nagbalik sa pinanggalingan,
Kung ano ang iyong tunay na pangalan:
"Devina Mindaña," kanyang kasagutan.

Hindi lumalao't hindi nakayanan
Ng puso kong ito, ang manahimik lang;
Kaya't nagsimulang ikaw ay sabayan,
Kahit hindi pa man kilalang lubusan.

Ewan ko kung bakit ako'y tinarayan,
Gusto kong magtanong, pero di na lamang;
Sa sungit mo kasi'y baka lang talikdan
At bago aalis ay iyong duraan.

Subalit, lumipas ilang linggo't buwan
Tayo'y nagkasundo't nagkausap minsan;
Insidenteng iyo'y di ko malimutan,
Malamyos **** tinig, aking napakinggan.

Nang ako'y tanungin sa aking pangalan,
Sa telepono ko'y sagot ay Superman;
At nang mukhang galit, agad sinabihang,
"Huwag kang magalit, ika'y biniro lang."

Agad kong sinabi ang aking pangalan
Baka tuloy ako'y iyong mabulyawan:
"Si Donward po ito," sabi kong marahan,
Pagpapakilala sa 'king katauhan.

Patuloy ang takbo ng ating kuwento,
Ang lahat ng iyo'y aking naging sulo,
Sa papasukin kong isang labirinto;
Sa isang kastilyong nasa iyong puso.

Hanggang isang gabi, mayroong sayawan,
Napuno ng tao ang gitnang bulwagan;
Ang aking sarili'y hindi napigilan
Na ika'y hanapi't maisayaw man lang.

Ngunit ng matunto'y hindi nakaasta,
Ang aking nasahin ay naglahong bigla;
Imbis na lapita't dalhin ka sa gitna,
Ay hindi na lama't ako'y nababakla.

Aking aaminin ang kadahilanan,
Takot na talaga ang pusong iniwan
Na baka lang uli't ito ay masaktan
Tulad ng sa aking naging kasaysayan.

Kaya't hindi ako nagpadalos-dalos
At baka pa tuloy yaon ay mapaltos;
Ang mabulilyaso'y mahirap na unos
Nitong aking pusong may panimding lubos.

Akin pang naitanong sa isang pinsan mo
K'wento ng pag-ibig na tungkol sa iyo
At kung maaaring ikaw ay masuyo,
Naging tugon niya'y: 'Ewan ko! Ewan ko!'

"Huwag ikagalit kung ika'y tanungin,"
Sabi ng pinsan **** maalam tumingin
Di sa kanyang mata na nakakatingin,
(Kung hindi'y sa kanyang talas na loobin).

Aking naging tugon doon sa kausap,
Yaong binibining aking nakaharap:
"Hindi magagalit itong nakatapat
Hangga't ang puso ko'y hindi nagkasugat.

Pagkatapos niyo'y kanya ng sinabi
Ang ibig itanong na nangagsumagi
Sa kanyang isipang lubhang mapanuri,
Ang kanyang hinala ay ibinahagi.

"Ikaw ba'y may gusto sa kanya na lihim?
Huwag **** itago't ng hindi lusawin
Ang laman ng puso at iyong pagtingin
Ng iyong ugaling, pagkasinungaling!"

Pagkatapos niyo'y agad kong sinagot
Tanong niyang sadyang nakakapanubok
At ipinagtapat yaong aking loob
Ng walang alanga't maski pagkatakot.

"Ako nga'y may gusto sa kanya na lihim,
Subalit paanong siya'y maging akin
Gayung tingin pala'y akin ng sapitin,
Ang lumbay, ang hapdi't kabiguan man din?"

"Di ko masasagot ang 'yong katanungan,"
Naging tugon niyong butihin **** pinsan,
"Tanging payo ko lang ay pahalagahan,
Huwag pabayaa't siya ay igalang."

Aking isinunod nang kami'y matapos
Ay ang iyong ateng wari d'yosang Venus;
Agad kong sinabi habang napalunok
Yaong aking pakay at nang s'ya'y masubok.

Imbis na tugunin yaong aking pakay,
Ako'y di pinansin kung kaya't nangalay
Dalawa kong mata sa kanilaynilay
Ako'y nanghihina't puso'y nanlupaypay.

Aking iniisip sa tuwi-tuwina
Ay ang pangalan mo, mahal kong Devina;
At ang hinihiling sa bantay kong tala,
Hihinting pag-asang makapiling kita.

Kaya't hindi ako nakapagpipigil,
Iyong aking loob na nanghihilahil
Aking inihayag sayo aking giliw
Ng walang palaman at maski kasaliw.

Tandang tanda ko pa no'ng makasabay ka
Papuntang simbaha'y sinusuyo kita
Hanggang sa pagpasok ako'y sumasama
Kahit hindi alam ang gagawin sinta.

Bago nagsimula ang misa mahal ko,
Ang aking larawa'y iniabot sayo;
May sulat sa likod, sana'y nabasa mo,
Yaong pangungusap ay mula sa puso.

Di kita nakitang ako ay nilingon,
Sapagkat atens'yo'y naroong natuon
Sa isang lalaking pumasok na roon,
At sayo'y tumabi hanggang sa humapon.

At nang nagsimula'y umalis na ako,
Pagkat ako itong walang sinasanto;
Baka tuloy ako magsasang-demonyo
Sa aking nakitang katuwaan ninyo.

Hindi ko malaman kung bakit sumakit,
Nanibugho ako, ano't iyo'y salik?;
Ano nga ba ito't tila naninikip?
Lintik na pag-ibig, puso ko'y napunit!

Napaisip ako habang naglalakad
Hanggang sa isip ko'y nagkakaliwanag;
'Manibugho sayo'y hindi nararapat,'
Napatungo ako sa sariling habag.

Ilang saglit pa at akin ng pinahid
Luhang sumalimbay sa pisnging makinis
At saka nangusap ng pagkamasakit:
"Wag kang mag-alala't di ko ipipilit."

"Itong pag-ibig kong nagniningas apoy,
Nasisiguro kong hindi magluluoy;
Ngunit, kung hindi mo bayaang tumuloy,
Mas mabuti pa ang puso ko'y itaboy!"

Nang ako'y magbalik doon sa simbahan,
Sa dami ng tao'y di kita nasilayan;
Ngunit, nang tanawin sa kinauup'an,
Naroong Devina't kinaiinisan.

Nanatili ako't hindi na umalis,
Di tulad kaninang lumabas sa inis;
Ako'y umupo na at nakikisiksik,
Kahit patapos na ang misang di ibig.

Hindi ko nga ibig, pagmimisang iyon
At maging pagsamba't gano'ng pagtitipon;
Pagtayo't pagluhod di ko tinutugon,
Pagkat ako itong walang panginoon.

Araw ay lumipas mula ng masuyo,
Ika'y sinubuka't nang hindi malugo
Itong aking pusong namalaging bigo
Sa loob ng dibdib, namugang tibo.

Iyong naging tugon ay nakakapaso,
Masakit isipi't maging ipupuso;
Yaong tumatama'y animoy palaso,
Narok sa dibdib, sugat aking tamo!

Sa kabila niyo'y di pa rin sumuko,
Tanging ikaw pa rin ang pinipintuho;
Kaya't wag isiping ito'y isang laro,
Pag-ibig kong ito'y hindi isang biro.

Hanggang sa dumating gabing aking asam,
Sa lilim ng mangga, bago ang sayawan
Ay iyong inamin ang nararamdaman,
Ating tagpong iyo'y di malilimutan.

Ipinagtapat mo na ika'y may gusto,
Ngunit di matugon itong aking puso,
Sapagkat ikaw ay mayroon ng nobyo
Di mo kayang iwa't ayaw **** manloko.

Aking naging tugon sa iyong sinabi,
Ay handang maghintay at mamamalagi
Hanggang sa panahong ikaw ay mahuli,
Makita't malamang di na nakatali.

Sa mukha'y nakita, matamis na ngiti
Niyong Mona Lisang, pinta ni Da Vinci;
Ako'y natigilan ilan pang sandali,
Nang aking matanaw, gandang natatangi.

Bago pa nag-umpisa'y pumasok na tayo,
Sa hinaraya kong dakilang palasyo,
At sa lilingkuran tayo ay naupo,
Niyong maliwanag, loob ng himnasyo.

At nang magsimulang musika'y tumugtog,
Ika'y namaalam at para dumulog
doon sa bulwaga't makikitatsulok,
ng sayaw sa indak dulot ng indayog.

Bago pa marating ang gitnang bulwagan,
Ako'y sumunod na't di ka nilubayan
Hangga't di pumayag sa 'king kagustuhan
Na maisayaw ka at makasaliwan.

Lumipas ang gabi't umaga'y sumapit,
Ang araw at linggo'y tila naging saglit;
Ako'y nagtataka't biglang napaisip,
Ano at ang oras ay mukhang bumilis.

Hanggang isang gabi nang aking tanungin,
Sa iyo, o, mahal kung bibigyang pansin;
Hanggang kailan mo pagdudurusahin;
May pag-asa pa bang nadama'y diringgin?

Iyong naging sagot sa katanungan ko:
"Di na magdurusa't ngayo'y maging tayo."
Ang rurok ng saya ay aking natamo,
Lalo pa't sinabing mahal mo rin ako.

Sa kadahilanang gustong masiguro,
Aking naitanong kung iyo'y totoo;
Baka mo lang kasi ako'y binibiro,
At kung maniwala'y sugatan ang puso.

Iyong ibinalik, ating gunitain,
Doon sa manggahan 'sang gabing madilim;
Ipinagtapat mo ang iyong damdamin,
Ngunit, di nagawang puso ko'y tugunin.

Pagkat mayroon kang sintang iniibig,
Iisang lalaking namugad sa dibdib;
Di mo maloloko't iyong inihasik
Sa paso ng puso't bukirin ng isip.

Pagkatapos niyo'y sinabi sa akin,
Na ating pag-ibig, manatiling lihim;
Aking naging tugo'y 'sang tangong lampahin
Pagkat aking isip, gulong-gulo man din.

"Sigurado ka ba sa'yong naging pasya?"
Ang muli kong tanong, bago naniwala
Sayo aking mahal na isang diwata,
Yaong aking ibig at pinapantasya.

Iyong naging tugon sa aking sinabi:
"Kung ayaw mo'y huwag, di ko masisisi;
Ano pa't puso mo'y sadyang madiskarte,
Baka may iba ng pinipintakasi."

Agad kong sinabi sa iyo mahal ko:
"Ano at kay daling ikaw ay magtampo,
Nagtanong lang nama't ako'y naniguro
Baka mo lang kasi, ako'y nilalaro.

Lumipas ang gabi't umaga'y sumapit,
Unang araw natin ay lubhang mapait,
Pagkat di nakayang ako ay lumapit,
Sayo aking sinta't ewan ko kung bakit.

Ilang sandali pa't hindi nakatiis,
Sa pagkakaupo'y tumayo't lumihis
ng landas patungo kay Musa kong ibig,
pagkat aking puso'y lubhang naligalig.

Muli kang tinanong kung pasya'y totoo,
Di na mababawi't di na mababago;
Iyong naging tugon sa katanungan ko,
Pisngi ko'y hinaplos, sabay sabing 'oo.'

Kay sarap marinig, salita **** iyon,
Iisa ang punto at maging ang layon;
Para bang lagaslas ng tubig sa balon,
Ibig kong pakinggan sa buong maghapon.

Matapos ang pasko'y siyang araw natin,
Na kung gunitai'y araw na inamin,
tinugon ang puso at binigyang pansin,
at saka sinabing, ako'y mahal mo rin.

Aking gabing iyo'y narurok ang saya,
Ngiti niyong buwa'y nakakahalina;
Ibig kong isulat ay isang pantasya,
At ikaw Devina, yaong engkantada.

Araw'y nangaglipas, daho'y nangalaglag,
Ano at ang oras tila naging iglap;
Siyang araw natin ay muling lumapag,
Ano at ang panaho'y tila naging lundag.

Iyong regalo mo'y hindi malimutan,
At maging pagbating ibig kong pakinggan,
Sa bawat umagang araw'y sumisilang
At kung maaari'y mapawalang-hanggan.

Ngunit nang magdaan ilang araw't linggo,
Naging malungkuti't di na palakibo;
Puso ko'y mistula isang boteng tibo,
Nabiyak sa dusa nang itatuwa mo.

Sa tuwi-tuwina'y napaisip ako,
Talaga nga kayang tapat ang puso mo?;
Ulo ko'y sasabog, bulkang Pinatubo,
Bakit ba't isip ko'y nagkakaganito?

Ilang araw kitang hindi tinawagan,
Pagkat labis akong nagdusa't nagdamdam;
Malakas kong loob ay di nilubayan
Ng kapighatia't maging kalungkutan.

Tayo nga'y mayroong isang kasunduan,
Di maikaila't sinasang-ayunan
Ngunit, ang itat'wa'y di makatarungan,
Alalahanin **** ako'y nasasaktan.

Ako'y wag itulad sa makinang robot
Na di nakaramdam maski anong kirot;
Ako ay may pusong nakakatilaok,
Pumipintig baga'y putak ng 'sang manok.

Kaya't nang sadyain sa tinutuluyan,
Ika'y kinausap at pinagsabihang:
"Sakaling darating ating hiwalayan,
Huwag magpaloko sa kalalakihan.

At saka-sakaling sayo'y may  manligaw,
Isipin mo muna't wag agad pumataw;
Pasya'y siguruhin bago mo ibitaw,
Ang iyong salita, nang di ka maligaw."

Unang halik nati'y hindi malimutan,
At kahit na yao'y isang nakaw lamang,
Pangyayaring iyo'y di makaligtaan,
Naging saksi natin ay ang Taguisian.

Tila ba talulot ng isang bulaklak
Labi **** sa akin na nangangagtapat;
Animo'y pabango yaong halimuyak,
Ng iyong hiningang sa halik nangganyak.

Ika-labinlima, araw ng Pebrero,
Hindi malimutan ating naging tagpo;
Sa iyong tuluya'y nagkasama tayo,
Doon sa Kwek Kwekan, nagdiwang ang puso.

Ako'y isang taong lubhang maramdamin,
Ang hapdi at kirot siyang tinitiim;
Puso ko'y tila ba 'sang pagong patpatin,
Sa loob ng dibdib sakit ang kapiling.

Kaya't nang makitang may kasamang iba,
Marahang lumason sa puso ko sinta
Ay ang panibugho't sakit na nadama;
At para maglaho, alak ay tinungga.

Sa ika-tatlumpu, na araw ng Marso,
Akin pang naalala pagbisita sayo,
Sa inyong tahana't mapayapang baryo,
Nagmano pa ako sa ama't ina mo.

Ibig kong ang lahat ay di na magtapos,
Masasayang araw nating lumalagos
Sa isip, sa puso't maging sa malamyos,
Na kantahi't tulang aking inihandog.

Ngunit, nang lumipas ang ika-limang araw
mula nang makita't sa inyo'y madalaw
ay isang mensahe ang lubhang gumunaw
sa aking damdami't marahang tumunaw.

Animo'y balaraw yaong tumatama,
Nang ang mensahe mo ay aking nabasa;
Gusto kong umiyak, gusto kong magwala,
Ngunit, anong saysay gayung wala na nga?

Kung isaulan ko itong aking luha,
Masasayang lama't walang mapapala;
Kaya't kahit ibig, ako ay tumawa,
Wag lamang masadlak yaong pagdurusa.

Kung ang kalayaa'y siyang ibig sinta,
At ang saktan ako'y ikaliligaya
Aba'y payag ako't ikaw na bahala,
Basta lang ang akin ika'y liligaya.

Kay sakit isiping tayo ay hindi na,
Ngunit, kung ito man ang itinadhana,
Aba'y pag-ibig ko't pag-ibig mo sinta,
Di makakahadlang sa ibig sumila.

Mahal ko paalam sa ating pag-ibig,
Mahal ko paalam, kahit na masakit;
Mga alaala'y huwag ng ibalik,
Burahin ng lahat sa puso at isip.


~WAKAS~

Mtu mweusi mweusi, katika mwezi mkali wa moto,
ameketi katika kivuli cha mti wa Baobab.
Majani yaliyomo mara moja
walikuwa kavu na ukame,
waathirika wa upepo wa mabadiliko.

"Wazee, wananiita zamani." Alidhani,
"Majira ya joto ya sabini yanigeuka kijivu,
lakini mti huu wa Baobab ulikua mrefu na wenye nguvu
Wakati majeshi ya Kirumi yalipitia njia hii. "

Mzee huyo alitafuta matunda ya baobab
na akaingia kwenye hali kama hali.
Alikuwa katika hali ya akili;
Sio usingizi, sio macho kabisa.

Aliposikia sauti: "Nina kiu." Ilisema,
Ingawa alikuwa na uhakika alikuwa peke yake.
Ilionekana si sauti ya binadamu:
monotone kavu ya ubongo.

"Kwa vizazi, wanaume kama wewe
Walitaka makazi yangu kutoka kwenye jua,
Lakini sasa imekamilika; nchi imeharibika
Na mimi nina kufa, mdogo. "

Mtu mzee alilia kusikia maneno haya
Kwa maana miti hizi zinapokufa, kama lazima,
Wao huanguka juu ya ardhi yenye ubongo
Hivyo haraka kurudi kwenye Vumbi.

"Dunia imebadilika kwa wewe na mimi,
Upepo ni kavu chini ya jua.
Ninasamehe ulimwengu wa wanadamu
Kwa maana hawajui waliyofanya. "

Mtu mzee aliamka na mwanzo
na akainua na miwa yake.
Alilia kwa kufikiri mti huu utafa

lakini machozi hawezi kuchukua nafasi ya mvua.

Matsuo Basho Translations



My Personal Favorites

The first soft snow:
leaves of the awed jonquil
bow low
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Come, investigate loneliness:
a solitary leaf
clings to the Kiri tree
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The cheerful-chirping cricket
contends gray autumn's gay,
contemptuous of frost
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Whistle on, twilight whippoorwill,
solemn evangelist
of loneliness
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The sea darkening,
the voices of the wild geese:
my mysterious companions!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The first chill rain:
poor monkey, you too could use
a woven cape of straw
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

This snowy morning:
cries of the crow I despise
(ah, but so beautiful!)
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

I wish I could wash
this perishing earth
in its shimmering dew
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Dabbed with morning dew
and splashed with mud,
the melon looks wonderfully cool.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's Butterflies

The butterfly
perfuming its wings
fans the orchid
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Will we remain parted forever?
Here at your grave:
two flowerlike butterflies!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Air ballet:
twin butterflies, twice white,
meet, match & mate.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Ballet in the air! ―
two butterflies, twice white,
meet, mate, unite.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A spring wind
stirs willow leaves
as a butterfly hovers unsteadily.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

As autumn deepens,
a butterfly sips
chrysanthemum dew.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
aki o hete / cho mo nameru ya / kiku no tsuyu

Come, butterfly,
it's late
and we've a long way to go!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Dusk-gliding swallow,
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers!
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's Famous Frog Poem

An ancient pond,
the frog leaps:
the silver plop and gurgle of water
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

An ancient pond sleeps...
untroubled by sound or movement...until...
suddenly a frog leaps!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Explosion!
The frog returns
to its lily pad.
—Michael R. Burch original haiku



Basho's Heron

Lightning
shatters the darkness—
the night heron's shriek
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Lightning―
the night heron's shriek
severs the darkness
― Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A flash of lightning―
the night heron's shriek
splits the void
― Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's Flowers

Let us arrange
these lovely flowers in the bowl
since there's no rice
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Like a heavy fragrance
snowflakes settle:
lilies on rocks
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

High-altitude rose petals
falling
falling
falling:
the melody of a waterfall.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Revered figure!
I bow low
to the rabbit-eared Iris.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Cold white azalea—
a lone nun
in her thatched straw hut.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Glimpsed on this high mountain trail,
delighting my heart—
wild violets
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Disdaining grass,
the firefly nibbles nettles—
this is who I am.
—Takarai Kikaku translation by Michael R. Burch

A simple man,
content to breakfast with the morning glories—
this is who I am.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
This is Basho's response to the Takarai Kikaku haiku above
asagao ni / ware wa meshi kû / otoko kana

Ah me,
I waste my meager breakfast
morning glory gazing!
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Morning glories blossom,
reinforcing the old fence gate.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The morning glories, alas,
also turned out
not to embrace me
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Morning glories bloom,
mending chinks
in the old fence
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Morning glories,
however poorly painted,
still engage us
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
asagao wa / heta no kaku sae / aware nari

I too
have been accused
of morning glory gazing...
—original haiku by by Michael R. Burch

Curious flower,
watching us approach:
meet Death, our famished donkey.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's Poems about Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter

Spring has come:
the nameless hill
lies shrouded in mist
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Spring!
A nameless hill
stands shrouded in mist.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The legs of the cranes
have been shortened
by the summer rains.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

These brown summer grasses?
The only remains
of "invincible" warriors...
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

An empty road
lonelier than abandonment:
this autumn evening
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Autumn darkness
descends
on this road I travel alone
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Taming the rage
of an unrelenting sun—
autumn breeze.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
aka aka to / hi wa tsurenaku mo / aki no kaze

The sun sets,
relentlessly red,
yet autumn's in the wind.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
aka aka to / hi wa tsurenaku mo / aki no kaze

As autumn draws near,
so too our hearts
in this small tea room.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
aki chikaki / kokoro no yoru ya / yo jo han

Late autumn:
my neighbor,
how does he continue?
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Winter in the air:
my neighbor,
how does he fare?
― Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Winter solitude:
a world awash in white,
the sound of the wind
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The year's first day...
thoughts come, and with them, loneliness;
dusk approaches.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's Temple Poems

Graven images of long-departed gods,
dry spiritless leaves:
companions of the temple porch
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The temple bells grow silent
but the blossoms provide their incense―
A perfect evening!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

See: whose surviving sons
visit the ancestral graves
white-bearded, with trembling canes?
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Like a glorious shrine—
on these green, budding leaves,
the sun's intense radiance.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
ara toto / aoba wakaba no / hi no hikar



Basho's Birds

A raven settles
on a leafless branch:
autumn nightfall
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A crow has settled
on a naked branch—
autumn nightfall
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A solitary crow
clings to a leafless branch:
autumn twilight
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A solitary crow
clings to a leafless branch:
phantom autumn
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A crow roosts
on a leafless branch:
autumn nightmare
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

NOTE: There has been a debate about the meaning of aki-no kure, which may mean one of the following: autumn evening, autumn dusk, the end of autumn. Or it seems possible that Basho may have intentionally invoked the ideas of both the end of an autumn day and the end of the season as well. In my translations I have tried to create an image of solitary crow clinging to a branch that seems like a harbinger of approaching winter and death. In the first translation I went with the least light possible: autumn twilight. In the second translation, I attempted something more ghostly. Phrases I considered include: spectral autumn, skeletal autumn, autumnal skeleton, phantom autumn, autumn nocturne, autumn nightfall, autumn nightmare, dismal autumn. In the third and fourth translations I focused on the color of the bird and its resemblance to night falling. While literalists will no doubt object, my goal is to create an image and a feeling that convey in English what I take Basho to have been trying to convey in Japanese. Readers will have to decide whether they prefer my translations to the many others that exist, but mine are trying to convey the eeriness of the scene in English.

Except for a woodpecker
tapping at a post,
the house is silent.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Swallow flitting in the dusk,
please spare my small friends
buzzing among the flowers!
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch




Basho's Insects

A bee emerging
from deep within the peony's hairy recesses
flies off heavily, sated
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

That dying cricket,
how he goes on about his life!
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The cicada's cry
contains no hint
of how soon it must die.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Nothing in the cicada's cry
hints that it knows
how soon it must die.
—Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The cicada's cry
contains no hint
of how soon it must die.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch




Basho's Moon and Stars

Pausing between clouds
the moon rests
in the eyes of its beholders
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The moon: glorious its illumination!
Therefore, we give thanks.
Dark clouds cast their shadows on our necks.
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The surging sea crests around Sado...
and above her?
An ocean of stars.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
ara umi ya / Sado ni yokotau / Ama-no-gawa



Basho's Companions

Fire levitating ashes:
my companion's shadow
animates the wall...
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Among the graffiti
one illuminated name:
Yours.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Scrawny tomcat!
Are you starving for fish and mice
or pining away for love?
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



Basho's End of Life and Death Poems

Nothing happened!
Yesterday simply vanished
like the blowfish soup.
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch
ara nantomo na ya / kino wa sugite / fukuto-jiru

Fever-felled mid-path
my dreams resurrect, to trek
into a hollow land
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Sick of its autumn migration
my spirit drifts
over wilted fields...
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Sick of this autumn migration
in dreams I drift
over flowerless fields...
―Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

NOTE: While literalists will no doubt object to "flowerless" in the translation above ― along with other word choices in my other translations ― this is my preferred version. I think Basho's meaning still comes through. But "wilted" is probably closer to what he meant. If only we could consult him, to ask whether he preferred strictly literal prose translations of his poems, or more poetic interpretations! My guess is that most poets would prefer for their poems to remain poetry in the second language. In my opinion the differences are minor and astute readers will grok both Basho's meaning and his emotion.

Too ill to travel,
now only my autumn dreams
survey these withering fields
― Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch



New Haiku Translations, Added 10/6/2020

Air ballet:
twin butterflies, twice white,
meet, match & mate
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Denied transformation
into a butterfly,
autumn worsens for the worm
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dusk-gliding swallow,
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Up and at ’em! The sky goes bright!
Let’***** the road again,
Companion Butterfly!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Higher than a skylark,
resting on the breast of heaven:
mountain pass.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Farewell,
my cloud-parting friend!
Wild goose migrating.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

A crow settles
on a leafless branch:
autumn nightfall.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

An exciting struggle
with such a sad ending:
cormorant fishing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Secretly,
by the light of the moon,
a worm bores into a chestnut.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

This strange flower
investigated by butterflies and birds:
the autumn sky
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Where’s the moon tonight?
Like the temple bell:
lost at sea.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Spring departs;
birds wail;
the pale eyes of fish moisten.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon still appears,
though far from home:
summer vagrant.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Cooling the pitiless sun’s
bright red flames:
autumn wind.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Saying farewell to others
while being told farewell:
departing autumn.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  
Traveling this road alone:
autumn evening.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Thin from its journey
and not yet recovered:
late harvest moon.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Occasional clouds
bless tired eyes with rest
from moon-viewing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The farmboy
rests from husking rice
to reach for the moon.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon aside,
no one here
has such a lovely face.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon having set,
all that remains
are the four corners of his desk.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon so bright
a wandering monk carries it
lightly on his shoulder.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The Festival of Souls
is obscured
by smoke from the crematory.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The Festival of Souls!
Smoke from the crematory?
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Family reunion:
those with white hair and canes
visiting graves.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

One who is no more
left embroidered clothes
for a summer airing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

What am I doing,
writing haiku on the threshold of death?
Hush, a bird’s song!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Fallen ill on a final tour,
in dreams I go roving
earth’s flowerless moor.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

Stricken ill on a senseless tour,
still in dreams I go roving
earth’s withered moor.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

Stricken ill on a journey,
in dreams I go wandering
withered moors.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch


New Haiku Translations, Added 10/6/2020

Air ballet:
twin butterflies, twice white,
meet, match & mate
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Denied transformation
into a butterfly,
autumn worsens for the worm
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dusk-gliding swallow,
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Up and at ’em! The sky goes bright!
Let’***** the road again,
Companion Butterfly!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Higher than a skylark,
resting on the breast of heaven:
mountain pass.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Farewell,
my cloud-parting friend!
Wild goose migrating.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

A crow settles
on a leafless branch:
autumn nightfall.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

An exciting struggle
with such a sad ending:
cormorant fishing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Secretly,
by the light of the moon,
a worm bores into a chestnut.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

This strange flower
investigated by butterflies and birds:
the autumn sky
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Where’s the moon tonight?
Like the temple bell:
lost at sea.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Spring departs;
birds wail;
the pale eyes of fish moisten.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon still appears,
though far from home:
summer vagrant.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Cooling the pitiless sun’s
bright red flames:
autumn wind.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Saying farewell to others
while being told farewell:
departing autumn.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  
Traveling this road alone:
autumn evening.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Thin from its journey
and not yet recovered:
late harvest moon.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Occasional clouds
bless tired eyes with rest
from moon-viewing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The farmboy
rests from husking rice
to reach for the moon.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon aside,
no one here
has such a lovely face.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon having set,
all that remains
are the four corners of his desk.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The moon so bright
a wandering monk carries it
lightly on his shoulder.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The Festival of Souls
is obscured
by smoke from the crematory.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

The Festival of Souls!
Smoke from the crematory?
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Family reunion:
those with white hair and canes
visiting graves.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

One who is no more
left embroidered clothes
for a summer airing.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

What am I doing,
writing haiku on the threshold of death?
Hush, a bird’s song!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch  

Fallen ill on a final tour,
in dreams I go roving
earth’s flowerless moor.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

Striken ill on a senseless tour,
still in dreams I go roving
earth’s withered moor.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

Stricken ill on a journey,
in dreams I go wandering
withered moors.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

OTHER POETS

Observe:
see how the wild violets bloom
within the forbidden fences!
—Shida Yaba (1663-1740), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When no wind at all
ruffles the Kiri tree
leaves fall of their own free will.
—Nozawa Boncho (1640-1714), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Keywords/Tags: Basho, haiku, translation, Japan, Japanese, Oriental, Orient Occident, nature, season, seasons, waka, tanka, life and death, compassion, empathy, mrbhaiku, mrbbasho

Nakahinumdom ko,
sa una man gyud to
nga kitang duha nagakadungan pa ug baklay
padulong ngadto sa usa ka balay.
Naggunitay sa atong mga kamot
ug ming-ingon nga di gayud
boy-an ang usa’g usa.
Kuntito naman ko, ug gasalig ko
nga ikaw kanunay naa sa akong tapad.
Apan minglabay ang mga oras ug bulan,
paglingi ko usab sa akong kiliran
ikaw napanaw lang ug kalit
ug wa na ko kabawo asa ko ikaw makit-an.
Mingsulay ko ug tagad kay gihuna-huna ko
basin ikaw akong nabiyaan,
paspas biya ko mulakaw ug langay kay ka.
Apan wa man, sa pila na ka adlaw
nakong huwat-huwat, wa gihapon ka,
asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, langay kay ka.
Ug gapadayon na lang ko ug baklay,
pero hinay-hinay lang, para ikaw unta makaapas ra.

Sa paglakaw-lakaw nako,
Nakatagbo ko ug usa ka tawo,
ug mingsulay ko ug pangutana bahin sa imo,
basin ba, ikaw nakalabay na ug nakit-an ka niya.
Grabe, asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, langay kay ka.
Minglabay ang pila ka mga tuig, didto nako nakahuna-huna
basin ako diay gyud ang langay ba,
ug wa nako kaapas sa imoha.
Busa minglakaw napud ko ug paspas kaayo
para ikaw akong maapsan,
dasig lang, magkita ra lagi siguro tang duha.
Apan, ako tawo ra pud biya,
kapuyon ug uhawon pud ug inapas sa imo,
layo na kaya siguro ka ug naabtan.
Asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, gadali ra pud kay ka.
Ug sa dihang nakahapit na hinuon ko
ug laing balay para mupahuway, ug muinom ug tubig,
kapoy biya pud ug pangita nimo sa pila na ka tuig,
siguro, langay lang gyud diay ko,
kay katong tawo nga akong napangutan-an, dugay ko mituo,
nga ikaw pud diay nagtagad kanako,
nga ana pud ka, nga langay ra kaayo ko.
Magkita ra lagi siguro tang duha, hinaot puhon.

Kabalo ba mo nga ang love, pag-ibig,
gugma o unsa bay tawag ninyo ana
kay muabot ra nag iyaha?
Di lang jud nuon magsaba
kay wa man gud siyay baba.

Bitaw, unsa man jud tuod diay ng
TRUE LOVE?
O basin THROWN LOVE na ha?

Ana man gud na oh,
sakto na unta!
Siya na unta!
Eh, shunga-shunga man gud ka,
gibuy-an pa jud nimo siya.

Dayon magdangoyngoy ra ba,
maghinuktok ug muingon nga
"Sayang kaayo!"
Apan wa na jud kay mabuhat pa
para ibalik inyong napakyas nga
LOVE STORY.

Sumo biya usahay paminawon
inyong mga pagmahay!
Wa lang jud mi mabuhat
kay bespren biya mi ninyo!

Sige na lang dayon ug hilaka
ug kadugayan PEANUT BITTER na,
hay naku!

Busa, mao ni akong advice sa inyo...

Ana man gud sila nga...

Ang gugma daw mura ra nag itlog...

Basta hugot ra kaayo ang paggunit,
mabuak...

Apan basta luag ra pud,
mahulog ra ug mabuak japun...
busa kanang sakto ra jud...

Unya ako?
Kay danghag man jud kaayo,
busa naa ra ko diri karun
nagsubo ug nag-inusara...

Busa sa di pa mahuman ni akong balak,
naa lang unta koy ipangutana...




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