Masaoka Shiki: In the coolness

Masaoka Shiki
(1867-1902)

In the coolness

In the coolness
of the empty sixth-month sky…
the cuckoo’s cry.

the tree cut,
dawn breaks early
at my little window

scatter layer
by layer, eight-layered
cherry blossoms!

at the full moon’s
rising, the silver-plumed
reeds tremble

entangled with
the scattering cherry blossoms-
the wings of birds!

wheat sowing-
the mulberry trees
lift bunched branches

pine and cypress:
in a withered field,
a shrine to Fudo

in the coolness
gods and Buddhas
dwell as neighbors

I turn my back
on Buddha and face
the cool moon

looking down I see,
cool in the moonlight,
4000 houses

the moon is cool-
frogs’ croaking
wells up

coolness-
a mountain stream splashes out
between houses

fanning out its tail
in the spring breeze,
see-a peacock!

Horyuji
I bite into a persimmon
and a bell resounds-
Horyuji

rice flowers-
fair weather on
Dokanyama

rice reaping-
no smoke rising from
the cremation ground today

old garden-she empties
a hot-water bottle
under the moon

"Before the Garden"
cockscombs…
must be 14,
or 15

again and again
I ask how high
the snow is

snow’s falling!
I see it through a hole
in the shutter…

all I can think of
is being sick in bed
and snowbound…

open the shutter!
I’ll just have a look
at Ueno’s snow!

spring rain:
browsing under an umbrella
at the picture-book store

the nettle nuts are falling…
the little girls next door
don’t visit me these days

it’s drizzling…
devil’s tongue, cold on
my belly button

getting a shave!
on a day when Ueno’s bell
is blurred by haze…

"Sick in Bed Ten Years"
lifting my head,
I look now and then-
the garden clover

how much longer
is my life?
a brief night…

the peony seems
to think itself Yokihi
as she awakes

wisteria plumes
sweep the earth, and soon
the rains will fall

purple unto
blackness:
grapes!

I thought I felt
a dewdrop on me
as I lay in bed

crimson plum blossoms
scattered over the loneliness
of the bed…

fallen petals of
the crimson plum I pluck
from the tatami

the gourd flowers bloom,
but look-here lies
a phlegm-stuffed Buddha!

a quart of phlegm-
even gourd water
couldn’t mop it up

they didn’t gather
gourd water
day before yesterday either

a jumble of
flowers planted-
see, the little garden!

hey!-even snake gourds
become Buddhas-
don’t get caught behind!

Buddha-death:
the moonflower’s face,
the snake gourd’s fart

the wallet
by the bed is my
autumn brocade

chestnut rice-
though a sick man,
still a glutton

I sink my teeth
into a ripe persimmon-
it dribbles down my beard

surprise!
a moonflower fell-
midnight sound

Masaoka Shiki poetry
kempis poetry magazine

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