Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Withered field

Turn this way!
I too feel lonely
late in autumn.

Winter solitude -
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.

Along this way,
no travellers.
Dusk in autumn.

In my new clothing
I feel so different, I must
look like someone else.

The moon is about to appear,
with their hands on their knees.
All present tonight

Clouds now and again
give a soul some respite from
moon - gazing - behold.

A caterpillar,
this deep in fall -
still not a butterfly. 

How admirable!
to see lightning and not think
life is fleeting.

A strange flower
for birds and butterflies
the autumn sky.

A field of cotton -
as if the moon
had flowered. 

On my travels, stricken -
my dreams over the dry land 
go on roving.

Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.

Dark night -
Plover crying
For its nest.

Haiku poems by Matsuo Basho 
1 st. November 2011.

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