The first morning of autumn:
the mirror I investigate
reflects my father’s face
-Shiki Masaoka (loose translation by Michael R. Burch)
The first morning of autumn:
the mirror I investigate
reflects my father’s face
-Shiki Masaoka (loose translation by Michael R. Burch)
Silence. A strangled
telephone has forgotten
that it should ring.
-Michael R. Collings
The speed controller
oscillates unstably-
Mr. Toad’s wild ride.
I glance up
the clouds have changed
configurations
while I read of love
and inconsistent moods.
Losing its name
a river
enters the sea
(Photo courtesy: Axel Leonhardt. Gothenburg harbor.)
One call invites
One hundred comrades;
One smile beckons
Ten thousand admirers.
– Zen Poem by Dogen
In my new clothing
I feel so different, I must
look like someone else
– Basho
Observe:
see how the wild roses bloom
within forbidding fences!
– Shida Yaba (1663-1740), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I want love splashing
To your voice like wet children
Playing in the stream.
Eros harrows my heart:
a wind on desolate mountains
uprooting oaks.