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

I glance up
the clouds have changed
while I read of love
and inconsistent moods.

One call invites
One hundred comrades;
One smile beckons
Ten thousand admirers.
– Zen Poem by Dogen

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.