As banked clouds
As banked clouds
are swept apart by the wind,
at dawn the sudden cry
of the first wild geese
winging across the mountains.
Unbroken Gloom.
times when unbroken
gloom is over all our world
over which still
sits the ever brilliant moon
sight of it casts me down more
O, how sad
O, how sad!
Why of visitors
Should there be not one?
In melancholy, where I dwell
The wind comes upon the bush-clover leaves.
Having Seen Them Long
Having seen them long,
I hold the flowers so dear
That when they scatter
I find it all the more sad
To bid them my last farewell.
He made no promise
He made no promise, yet
Wondering if he'll come, I wait,
In the early evening;
If only it would stay this way,
Remaining light…
Not Stopping To Mark The Trail
Not stopping to mark the trail,
let me push even deeper
into the mountain!
Perhaps there's a place
where bad news can never reach me!
Thought I was free
Thought I was free
of passion, so this melancholy
comes as surprise:
a woodcock shoots up from the marsh
where autumn's twilight falls.
The Monk Saigyo
Should I blame the moon
For bringing forth this sadness,
As if it pictured grief?
Lifting up my troubled face,
I regard it through my tears
The Monk Saigyo
Should I blame the moon
For bringing forth this sadness,
As if it pictured grief?
Lifting up my troubled face,
I regard it through my tears