Yosa Buson Translations

Yosa Buson haiku translations On the temple’s great bronze gong a butterfly snoozes. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hard to describe: this light sensation of being pinched by a butterfly! ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Not to worry spiders, I clean house ... sparingly. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Among the fallen leaves, an elderly frog. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch In an ancient well fish leap for mosquitoes, a dark sound. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Flowers with thorns remind me of my hometown ... ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Reaching the white chrysanthemum the scissors hesitate ... ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A kite floats at the same place in the sky where yesterday it floated ... ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Picking autumn plums my wrinkled hands once again grow fragrant ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A silk robe, casually discarded, exudes fragrance into the darkening evening ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Whose delicate clothes still decorate the clothesline? Late autumn wind. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch An evening breeze: water lapping the heron’s legs. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch gills puffing, a hooked fish: the patient ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The stirred morning air ruffles the hair of a caterpillar. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Intruder! This white plum tree was once outside our fence! ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Tender grass forgetful of its roots the willow ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Since I'm left here alone, I'll make friends with the moon. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The hood-wearer in his self-created darkness misses the harvest moon ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch White blossoms of the pear tree? a young woman reading his moonlit letter ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The pear tree flowers whitely: a young woman reading his letter by moonlight ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch On adjacent branches the plum tree blossoms bloom petal by petal?love! ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A misty spring moon ... I entice a woman to pay it our respects ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Courtesans purchasing kimonos: plum trees blossoming ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The spring sea rocks all day long: rising and falling, ebbing and flowing ... ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch As the whale dives its tail gets taller! ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch While tilling the field the motionless cloud vanished. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Even lonelier than last year: this autumn evening. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch My thoughts return to my Mother and Father: late autumn ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Late autumn: my thoughts return to my Mother and Father ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch This roaring winter wind: the cataract grates on its rocks. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch While snow lingers in creases and recesses: flowers of the plum ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Plowing, not a single bird sings in the mountain's shadow ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch In the lingering heat of an abandoned cowbarn only the sound of the mosquitoes is dark. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The red plum's fallen petals seem to ignite horse dung. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Dawn! The brilliant sun illuminates sardine heads. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The abandoned willow shines between bright rains ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Dew-damp grass: the setting sun’s tears ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The dew-damp grass weeps silently in the setting sun ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch White plum blossoms? though the hour grows late, a glimpse of dawn ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The poem above is believed to be Buson's jisei (death poem) and he is said to have died before dawn. Lately the nights dawn plum-blossom white. ?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch In the deepening night I saw by the light of the white plum blossoms ?Yosa Buson, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Our life here on earth: to what shall we compare it? Perhaps to a rowboat departing at daybreak, leaving no trace of us in its wake? —Takaha Shugyo or Yosa Buson, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Yosa Buson (1716-1783) was a Japanese poet and painter of the Edo period. Buson was a master of brief, startlingly clear and concise haiku/hokku. Matsuo Basho, Yosa Buson and Kobayashi Issa have been called the "essential masters" of the Edo Era. Many haiku lovers would add Masaoka Shiki to create the "Great Four" of haiku. Japanese poets like Basho, Buson and Issa influenced many Western poets, including early English/American modernists such as Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot.