…some haiku and kambun on ‘the Way’, the road, the path…

…spring rain…
…in a gap between the trees you can see
a trail that goes to the sea…

– – – Otsuji

    • *

Seeing a temple
at the turn in the trail
and all those wild crysanthemums!

– – – Shiki

    • *

The moon shines in my little cabin
…books are scattered all about…
and in the midst of them… sleeping

Outside, next day,
for healing leaves and flowers
amongst grasses and herbs I go…

Bucking and rearing as they meet…
these Nambu horses
do not like my village horse

But over that river,
a castle rises above the trail…

– – – Etsujin, Ransetsu ,  from ‘Fresh Sake‘ from Wastelands

    • *

This is a road that no-one travels…
…it’s Autumn,
and night is falling

– – – Basho

    • *

The Autumn mountain’s
yellow leaves
are grown so thick
that I am lost, and my sweet sister
wandered away…
along a mountain trail I cannot see…

– – – Kakimoto Hitomaru

    • *

Swirling around – more and more –
just look at the snow coming down…
… – – – in the darkness – covering the trail – – –

– – – Kito

    • *

…lighting candles before the portrait of Fujiwara no Teika…

The old, old songs,
and the trails of the heart…
stopping my horse
at the wide stretch of snow at the ford at Sano,
this clean sheet of paper is all I can see…

– – – Shotetsu

    • *

Snow swirling down
deep and thick over the moors
at Kano – but you can make out the tracks
of that big wagon,
that’s set out at daybreak…

– – – Shotetsu

    • *

And if you come looking,
there isn’t a trail –
and nobody knows it…
…here in my heart
you are now…
and I come and I go…

– – – Princess Shikishi

    • *

Pink and white bindweed
by the roadside… all the way…
thirty long miles…

– – – Buson

    • *

The twittering of birds and the voices of insects –
completely communicate the secrets of the mind:
the intelligence of flowers and the color of grasses
are none other than studying books of the Way…
a learned man perceives the essence clearly
and his heart hears the bright-jeweled sound:
whatever he touches, his heart can handle…

– – – from the Saikontan

    • *

And I keep walking
through the grove – – –
the deserted market with the broken-down stalls
there’s not a soul – – –
an evening crow cries,
and under these trees: the trail

– – – Shotetsu

    • *

Dusk hangs from this willow-tree – – –
its shadow spreading
over the deserted road

– – – Buson

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