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.