H
A I K U S P
I R I T
Chyio-ni
Galloping horse
sniffing their hocks ~
scent of violets
The thread of the fishing rod
reaches
the summer moon!
Fireflies fireflies!
into the river
darkness is sinking
Water becomes crystal
fireflies fade out ~
there is nothing
But for their shrills
white herons would not be seen ~
snowy morning
This pure water ~
there's no front
nor back
Squatting
the frog watching out
for the clouds
If morning glories close up
in the morning
it's that they hate mankind!
Above the stream
running after its reflection
a dragonfly
From the purple clouds
to the mauve iris
my thoughts wander
Translation: Gilles Fabre