Kikusha-ni

lets all adore
in the same well of clouds
this one moon

There is nothing
like the cool of the wind in this place
blowing down from Mt. Fuji

lost in the woods
only the sound of a leaf
falling on my hat

amidst the deep mountains
only the sounds of falling leaves
on my hat

on some days
not even a cuckoo calls
to this lone traveller

the moon and I
left alone---
cool on the bridge

morning glories
in the evening, they let us
admire their buds

The scarlet leaves of autumn
pale before the sight
of waving green rice fields.

In spirit and in truth
silent prayer--- just
the moon on the road

in the teabowl
this motion of the clouds
of "little spring"

Smiling at each other
Motoyama with a red gate
And I stand face to face

snipe on the wing---
left behind, the murmur
of a little stream

does a dustpan
share in the buddha’s nature?
blossoms’ shade