visit

There was a night, too,
When a robber visited my home —
The year end.

Matsuo Bashō

sweeping snow

While sweeping the garden
It forgets about the snow:
The broom.

Matsuo Bashō

rest

On a journey, ailing —
My dreams roam about
Over a withered moor.

Matsuo Bashō

pure whiteness

A white chrysanthemum —
However intently I gaze.
Not a speck of dust.

Matsuo Bashō

autumn scene

Under the crescent moon
The earth looms hazily —
Buckwheat flowers.

Matsuo Bashō

isolation

Autumn deepens —
The man next door, what
Does he do for a living?

Matsuo Bashō

solitude

The road here—
No traveler comes along
This autumn evening.

Matsuo Bashō

aki

Whenever I speak out
My lips are chilled—
Autumnal wind.

Matsuo Bashō

light

Firefly viewing—
The steersman is drunk
And how unsteady the boat!

Matsuo Bashō

dusk

Weary from travel
I seek a lodging for the night—
Wistaria flowers.

Matsuo Bashō