Читать книгу Net of Fireflies - Harold Stewart - Страница 10

THE RECLUSE

In my ten-foot bamboo hut this spring,

There is nothing: there is everything.

—SODÔ

REBIRTH

Ah, for the heart whose winter knew no doubt,

The white plum-blossoms, first to venture out!

—MOKUIN

THE ENTRANCE OF SPRING

The scene is almost set for spring to come:

A hazy moon and blossoms on the plum. . . .

—BASHÔ

UNCONVENTIONAL DEBUT

The little nightingale of buff and brown

Singing its first spring quaver—upside down!

—KEKAKU

ON THE ROAD TO NARA

Because of early spring, this nameless hill

Is knee-deep in the gauze of morning still.

—BASHÔ

THE GESTURE

"Be careful not to break my flowering tree!"

He warned; and broke a branch of plum for me.

—TAIGI

ONE SENSE OF BEAUTY

On white plum-petals that were pure and sweet,

The nightingale now wipes its muddy feet.

—ISSA

MORE THAN FORGIVEN

Plum-blossoms give their fragrance still to him

Whose thoughtless hand has broken off their limb.

—CHIYO

AFTER THE FISHING-BOATS DEPART

The tall white sails emerge above the bay's

Low and level veils of morning haze.

—GAKOKU

THE SPRING SEA

All day, with gently undulating swell,

The spring sea rose and fell, and rose and fell. . . .

—BUSON

SPRING CALM

The Inland Sea at twilight: star by star,

The lamps shine out on islands, near and far. . . .

—SHIKI

A MUSICAL EVENING

The geisha's pose is shadowed on the screen

Beside a willow sapling, fledged with green.

—HÔ-Ô

UNFATHOMED

Without a sound, the white camellia fell

To sound the darkness of the deep stone well.

—BUSON

SPRING DAWN

Up comes the bucket from the well of gloom,

And in it floats—a pink camellia bloom.

—KAKEI

SUDDEN SPRING

With tender impact on the icy air,

The peach-buds burst: their silken petals flare.

—HÔ-Ô

CORRESPONDENCE

Among the peach-tree blossoms—ah, the glow

Of sunrise wakes a cock with scarlet crow!

—KIKAKU

THE MASTER STROKE

A seedling shoulders up some crumbs of ground:

The fields are suddenly green for miles around!

—HÔ-Ô

FIRST PUDDLE

Though spring rain patters on the mud, as yet

The froglets' sallow bellies are not wet.

—BUSON

A SHELTER OF LEAVES

A sparrow, springing on this bamboo-cane,

Chirps at the downward sound of steady rain.

—HÔ-Ô

GARDEN AFTER RAIN

Why, as that single tea-camellia fell,

It spilled bright water from its heavy bell!

—BASHÔ

VIEWPOINT

When I climb the pagoda, five floors high,

There, on that fir-top, sits a butterfly!

—KASO

FROM A HILLSIDE

The rice-fields spread their flooded terracing

Of mirrors: segments in a beetle's wing.

—HÔ-Ô

SPRING SNOWFLAKE

A white-queued egret, balanced on the breeze,

Sails through the dark-green cryptomeria trees.

—RAIZAN

AT NARA

There sat the great bronze Buddha. From his hollow

Nostril suddenly darted out—a swallow!

—ISSA

BOUNDLESS COMPASSION

Oh, weak and skinny frog, though death is near,

Fight on and dont give in: Issa is here!

—ISSA

THE SILENT REBUKE

Angrily I returned; awaiting me

Within my court—the tranquil willow-tree.

—RYÔTA

A FLOWERING BIRD

The pheasant's eyes are gold, hut ringed with red:

Two tea-camellias flowering in his head.

—HÔ-Ô

IN A TEMPLE GARDEN

The old green pond is silent; here the hop

Of a frog plumbs the evening stillness: plop!¹

—BASHÔ

THE LIKENESS OF WIND

The flurried willow paints the breeze's rush

Without the need for paper, ink, or brush.

—SARYÛ

THE EXECUTIONERS

A red camellia drops to the garden bed,

Where scurrying rats drag off its severed head.

—SHICHIKU

SENSITIVE

The butterfly, lifted on the spring wind's billow,

Alights elsewhere upon the swaying willow.

—BASHÔ

ONE NOTE OF ZEN

A frog had plucked his slack-stringed samisen:

The pond was quieter at nightfall, then.

—HÔ-Ô

DISCOVERY

Again the cherry-buds are bursting through:

Horses have four legs! Birds have only two!

—ONITSURA

WONDER

I saw afar a vast white cloud—but no!

That was Yoshino's mount of flowering snow.

—TEISHITSU

THE DEVOTEE

My shanks grow thin? As long as they can climb,

Expect me, Yoshino, in blossom time.

—BASHÔ

THE POET

I came to praise the cherry-blossom: "Oh! . . .

Oh! . . That's all, upon Mount Yoshino.

—TEISHITSU

THE DAIMYO

The noble lord gets off his horse. And who

Makes him dismount? The cherry-blossoms do.

—ISSA

THE SAMURAI

No friends today—Oh, let me meet no friends

Until my leave for blossom-viewing ends!

—KYORAI

GOING HOME

White cherry-blossoms in the sunset blaze:

I stand, my breast against my staff, and gaze. . . .

—SÔ-A

SLIGHT INTERRUPTION

Ah, nightingale, with half your song expressed,

I leave for the next world—to hear the rest!

—AN ANONYMOUS PRISONER

CONDEMNED TO DEATH

FROM MY WINDOW AT TWILIGHT

A cloud of flowers. A booming temple-bell.

Ueno's or Asakusa's? Who can tell?

—BASHÔ

ATMOSPHERE

How still it is! The belfry's vibrant boom

Does not so much as stir the cherry-bloom.

—FUHAKU

AT THE FERRY

Through the spring rain a ferryboat is oared,

Paper umbrellas, high and low, aboard.

—SHIKI

THE EIGHT FAMOUS VIEWS OF ÔMI

Mist hid the other seven views. Ah well,

I heard the Mit Temple's evening bell!²

—BASHÔ

ON A JOURNEY

Wearied, and seeking shelter for the night—

Ah, these wistaria flowers refresh the sight!

—BASHÔ

LETTER AND SPIRIT

My ears had found the sermon dull and stale;

But in the woods outside—the nightingale!

—SHIKI

ON THE DEATH OF HIS CHILD

His life: a dream in spring, as brief as sad. . . .

Oh, pity me that I have not gone mad!

—RAIZAN

A STREET IN EDO

Through this shower in spring, at dusk dispersing,

A raincoat and umbrella stroll, conversing. . . .

—BUSON

BEFORE NIGHTFALL

With willows drooping overhead, they light

The lamps upon the palace gates tonight.

—SHIKI

THE SPRING FESTIVAL

What pains I took to hang my lantern on

The branch of cherry-blossom, where it shone!

—SHIKI

ROMANCE

Evening in spring: the fox's phantom played

A young and gallant prince in masquerade,³

—BUSON

BY STARLIGHT

How the racemes of white wistaria sway,

As though the night wind blew the Milky Way!

—HAJIN

THE CATCH

I shook my net where whitebait seemed to thresh:

A shoal of moonbeams slithered through the mesh.

—ÔTÔ

EXCAVATIONS BY NIGHT

At dawn my violets grew aslant: a hole

Was tunnelled underneath them by a mole.

—BONCHÔ

ON A HIGH PASS

Above the mountain's snow-white vapour floats

An airy voice: the skylark's rising notes.

—KYOROKU

NATURALLY

How heart-appealing, on the mountain-pass,

Are wild violets hidden in the grass!

—BASHÔ

AT NISHIGÔ RAPIDS

Has the cascade shaken with rushing sound

These yellow kerria petals toward the ground?

—BASHÔ

TRANSPARENT PRESENCE

A veering school of lancelets was inferred

Only because the water's clearness stirred.

—RAIZAN

VIEW OF KÔRIYAMA

Roof upon roof the white-walled castle towers

Above a plain of rape with golden flowers.

—KYOROKU

RETURN OF THE DISPOSSESSED

The same old village: here where I was born,

Every flower I touch—a hidden thorn.

—ISSA

THE ORPHANS

Oh, ragged sparrow without any mother,

When we are lonely, let's play with each other!

—ISSA (aged 6)

SUNSHOWER

Warm sunshine through a clearing after showers;

And for a while, the scent of hawthorn flowers.

—KYOSHI

STILL UNION

Single butterflies dancing through the air

Until they meet: how motionless a pair!

—BASHÔ

BONDAGE

The caged bird gazes at the butterflies

Beyond the bars with longing—watch its eyes!

—ISSA

LIBERATION

The skylark's song above the meadow-flowers

Would last for longer than the day has hours.

—BASHÔ

IN THE MEADOW

Oh who, untouched by tenderness, can pass

Small white daisies scattered in the grass?

—HÔ-Ô

FAIR WARNING

Young sparrows, ruffled in a dust-bath, fly

Out of the way! My horse is plodding by.

—ISSA

UNDERCURRENT

A cumbersome waggon rumbled down the hill

Under its load: my peonies tremble still.

—BUSON

SOWN WITH GOLD

How far these fields of rape in blossom run:

East to the moonrise, west to the setting sun!

—BUSON

TRANSMIGRATION

Lighting one candle with another's flame

At dusk in spring—the same, yet not the same.

—BUSON

EPITOME OF SPRING

Glimpsed through a crevice in the garden fence,

One white flower is spring s impermanence.

—BUSON

AND SO

And so the spring buds burst, and so I gaze,

And so the blossoms fall, and so my days. . . .

—ONITSURA

BURNT OUT

Onto the ashes where my cottage burned,

The cherry-blossoms scatter, unconcerned.

—HOKUSHI

ONE SPRING DAY

How fragile, how ephemeral in flight

This life—for instance: butterfly, alight!

—SÔIN

DOWN THE AVENUE

The curtain of the daimyo's palanquin

Was lifted. Cherry-petals drifted in.

—MÔGAN

THE DELICATE TOUCH

Violets in retirement near its trail

Are touched in passing by the pheasant's tail.

—SHÛSHIKI

RAPE OF SPRING

The cherry-petals' loosely fluttering swarm

Is put to flight; in dark pursuit—the storm!

—SADAIE

THE MIDDLE WAY

A white swan swimming to the shore beyond

Parts with his breast the cherry-pet ailed pond.

—RÔKA

ILLUSION

The fallen blossoms which I saw arise,

Returning toward the bough, were butterflies.

—MORITAKE

A RAIN-SPOILT SPRING

The end of spring has turned the scattered bloom

To torn waste paper for the bamboo broom.

—BUSON