Net of Fireflies. Harold Stewart
Oh, pity me that I have not gone mad!
—RAIZAN
A STREET IN EDO
Through this shower in spring, at dusk dispersing,
A raincoat and umbrella stroll, conversing. . . .
—BUSON
BEFORE NIGHTFALL
With willows drooping overhead, they light
The lamps upon the palace gates tonight.
—SHIKI
THE SPRING FESTIVAL
What pains I took to hang my lantern on
The branch of cherry-blossom, where it shone!
—SHIKI
ROMANCE
Evening in spring: the fox's phantom played
A young and gallant prince in masquerade,3
—BUSON
BY STARLIGHT
How the racemes of white wistaria sway,
As though the night wind blew the Milky Way!
—HAJIN
THE CATCH
I shook my net where whitebait seemed to thresh:
A shoal of moonbeams slithered through the mesh.
—ÔTÔ
EXCAVATIONS BY NIGHT
At dawn my violets grew aslant: a hole
Was tunnelled underneath them by a mole.
—BONCHÔ
ON A HIGH PASS
Above the mountain's snow-white vapour floats
An airy voice: the skylark's rising notes.
—KYOROKU
NATURALLY
How heart-appealing, on the mountain-pass,
Are wild violets hidden in the grass!
—BASHÔ
AT NISHIGÔ RAPIDS
Has the cascade shaken with rushing sound
These yellow kerria petals toward the ground?
—BASHÔ
TRANSPARENT PRESENCE
A veering school of lancelets was inferred
Only because the water's clearness stirred.
—RAIZAN
VIEW OF KÔRIYAMA
Roof upon roof the white-walled castle towers
Above a plain of rape with golden flowers.
—KYOROKU
RETURN OF THE DISPOSSESSED
The same old village: here where I was born,
Every flower I touch—a hidden thorn.
—ISSA
THE ORPHANS
Oh, ragged sparrow without any mother,
When we are lonely, let's play with each other!
—ISSA (aged 6)
SUNSHOWER
Warm sunshine through a clearing after showers;
And for a while, the scent of hawthorn flowers.
—KYOSHI
STILL UNION
Single butterflies dancing through the air
Until they meet: how motionless a pair!
—BASHÔ
BONDAGE
The caged bird gazes at the butterflies
Beyond the bars with longing—watch its eyes!
—ISSA
LIBERATION
The skylark's song above the meadow-flowers
Would last for longer than the day has hours.
—BASHÔ
IN THE MEADOW
Oh who, untouched by tenderness, can pass
Small white daisies scattered in the grass?
—HÔ-Ô
FAIR WARNING
Young sparrows, ruffled in a dust-bath, fly
Out of the way! My horse is plodding by.
—ISSA
UNDERCURRENT
A cumbersome waggon rumbled down the hill
Under its load: my peonies tremble still.
—BUSON
SOWN WITH GOLD
How far these fields of rape in blossom run:
East to the moonrise, west to the setting sun!
—BUSON
TRANSMIGRATION
Lighting one candle with another's flame
At dusk in spring—the same, yet not the same.
—BUSON
EPITOME OF SPRING
Glimpsed through a crevice in the garden fence,
One white flower is spring s impermanence.
—BUSON
AND SO
And so the spring buds burst, and so I gaze,
And so the blossoms fall, and so my days. . . .
—ONITSURA
BURNT OUT
Onto the ashes where my cottage burned,
The cherry-blossoms scatter, unconcerned.
—HOKUSHI
ONE SPRING DAY
How fragile, how ephemeral in flight
This life—for instance: butterfly, alight!
—SÔIN
DOWN THE AVENUE
The curtain of the daimyo's palanquin
Was lifted. Cherry-petals drifted in.
—MÔGAN
THE DELICATE TOUCH
Violets in retirement near its trail
Are touched in passing by the pheasant's tail.
—SHÛSHIKI
RAPE OF SPRING
The cherry-petals' loosely fluttering swarm
Is put to flight; in dark pursuit—the storm!
—SADAIE
THE MIDDLE WAY
A white