It is unreasonable to ask my tears
to bear the sorrow of autumn,
as the light changes
the color even of the cinnamon tree in the moon
to red and yellow.
~Shunzei’s Daughter*
*cited:
The Burning Heart
K Rexroth & I Atsumi
art
weekly photo challenge: transition
The sprouting grass waiting for spring,
and the grass that begins to wither, were once the same
wild grass of the moor.
Sooner or later
they surely meet with autumn
and end in the season of weariness.
~Gio
join in the fun of Jen’s photo challenge: Transition
depth of the ravine
Who knows
that in the depth of the ravine
of the mountain of my hidden heart
a firefly of my love is aflame.
~Abutsu-Ni*
*cited:
Women Poets of Japan
K Rexroth & I Atsumi
weekly photo challenge: trio
Last autumn
The three of us tossed acorns
To the scattering carp.
Now in the cold morning wind off the pond
He and I stand hand in chilling hand.
~Yosano Akiko*
Visit Cheri’s photo challenge to view additional images of: Trio
*cited:
Women Poets of Japan
K Rexroth & I Atsumi
autumn freckles
Going through the gate,
I am also a wanderer
this twilight in autumn.
~Buson*
selected images available through Turning Art
*cited:
Haiku Master Buson
Y Sawa & E Shiffert
autumn dusk
being alone
may also be pleasant –
autumn dusk
~Buson*
*cited:
Haiku Master Buson
Y Sawa & E Shiffert
myopia
in seasonal rain
along a nameless river
fear too has no name
~Buson
myopia
selected images available through Turning Art
autumn berries
This dark autumn
old age settles down on me
like heavy clouds or birds
~Basho*
selected prints available through Turning Art
*cited:
The Sound of Water
S. Hamill
lit by setting sun
the thunderstorm breaks up,
one tree lit by setting sun,
a cicada cry
~Shiki*
selected prints available through Turning Art
*cited:
The Sound of Water
S Hamill
a single leaf
Street Performer
Out breath
and in breath-
know that they are
proof that the world
is inexhaustible.
~Ryokan*
street performer…Boulder, CO
*cited:
Sky Above, Great Wind
K Tanahashi
five of seven…wired
On a quiet evening in my thatch-roofed hut,
alone I play a lute with no strings.
It’s melody enters wind and cloud,
mingles deeply with a flowing stream,
fills out the dark valley,
blows through the vast forest, then disappears.
Other than those who hear emptiness,
who will capture this rare sound?
~Ryokan*
*cited:
Sky Above, Great Wind
K Tanahashi
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