“When the winter chrysanthemums go, / there’s nothing to write about / but radishes” —Matsuo Bashō

Haiku brush
Painting old Edo
Tokyo

“The dragonfly
can’t quite land
on that blade of grass”
―Matsuo Bashō

The Gweilo
In a red-eye rush
Brushes up

“Wrapping the rice cakes,
with one hand
she fingers back her hair”
―Matsuo Bashō

Noble robe
Silkworm’s carapace
Kimono

“Staying at an inn
where prostitutes are also sleeping –
bush clover and the moon”
―Matsuo Bashō

Fireflies
Kindled appetites
The night lights

“The squid seller’s call
mingles with the voice
of the cuckoo”
―Matsuo Bashō

Detoxed fish
Harpooned-whale-fin steaks
Wokked songbirds

“Bush warbler:
shits on the rice cakes
on the porch rail”
―Matsuo Bashō

Temple gongs
Monastic chanting
Silent noise

“A cicada shell;
it sang itself
utterly away”
―Matsuo Bashō

Paper walls
Cloying incense coils
Straw mattress

“Fleas, lice,
a horse peeing
near my pillow”
—Matsuo Bashō

Jet to catch
Executive class
Red-eye rush

“A bee
staggers out
of the peony”
―Matsuo Bashō

Eyes resting
Prized winter blossoms
Enter dreams

“A monk sips morning tea,
it’s quiet,
the chrysanthemum’s flowering”
―Matsuo Bashō

Afterglow
Floating on a pond
Volcanic

“Seek on high bare trails
Sky-reflecting violets…
Mountain-top jewels”
―Matsuo Bashō

New Old Edo rekindles an affair with Tokyo, a flame fanned with the fondness of absense, glossed with a haiku brush.

Quoted translations of Matsuo Bashō poetry sourced from MyPoeticSide.com and GoodReads.com

Previous posts