Over-ripe sushi,

bent like a sickle.Translated by Robert Hass

with smug self confidencea haikai poet.Longer has become the daytime;a pheasant is flutteringdown onto the bridge.Yearning for the BygonesLengthening days,accumulating, and recallingthe days of distant past.Slowly passing days,with an echo heard here in acorner of Kyoto.The white elbowof a priest, dozing,in the dusk of spring.Into a nobleman,a fox has changed himselfearly evening of spring.The light…

in a field of ripe rice.Translated by Robert Hass

in the sleety snow.Translated by Robert Hass

in the east.Translated by Robert Hass

has disappeared