Along this road
Goes no one,
This autumn eve
Sick on a journey,
my dreams wander
the withered fields
Under the same roof
Prostitutes were sleeping—
The moon and clover
I am one
Who eats his breakfast,
Gazing at morning glories.
Sad nodes
we're all the bamboo's children
in the end
What luck!
The southern valley
Make snow fragrant.
A autumn wind
More white
Than the rocks in the rocky mountain.
Another year is gone
A traveller's shade on my head,
Straw sandals at my feet
From all directions
Winds bring petals of cherry
Into the grebe lake.
Even a wild boar
With all other things
Blew in this storm.
The crescent lights
The misty ground.
Buckwheat flowers.
Bush clover in blossom waves
Without spilling
A drop of dew.
The wind from Mt. Fuji
I put it on the fan.
Here, the souvenir from Edo.
*Edo: the old name of Tokyo..
Sleep on horseback,
The far moon in a continuing dream,
Steam of roasting tea.
Spring departs.
Birds cry
Fishes' eyes are filled with tears
Summer zashiki
Make move and enter
The mountain and the garden.
*zashiki: Japanese-style room covered with tatamis and open to the garden.
now then, let's go out
to enjoy the snow... until
I slip and fall!
Sweet-smelling rice fields!
To our right as we push through,
The
Deep autumn—
my neighbor,
how does he live, I wonder?
Though I would move the grave,
my teary cry
was lost in the autumn wind.
Matsuo Basho
