Michael Burch Poet Haiku

Issa translations 4

From the tip of Buddha’s
honorable nose
an icicle dangles.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Teased by the winter wind,
the pig giggles
in his sleep.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The winter wind
generously
sweeps my gate.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Winter night:
scratching at my window,
a banished cat.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Likewise in no mood
to sweep the snow,
the scarecrow.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My little straw mat:
the cat arrives
with a coat of snowflakes.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The girl hugs
her ragcloth monkey:
winter hailstorm.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Patched
with wastepaper,
my ragged winter coat.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The cricket’s
cozy winter residence:
my quilt.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hey mice,
quit pissing on my new friend’s
domicile!
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Forlorn sight:
from distant fields
a little hut’s light.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The generous wind
sweeps
my sooty hut.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A lonely
plum tree blooms
among pines.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Elegant plum blossoms
giggle
at my rags.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

At the edge
of a reeking well,
elegant plum blossoms.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Are you illuminating
plum blossoms for stealing,
vagrant moon?
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Moonlit gate:
the mosquito-eating bats
make their rounds.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Like the bats
moonlit streetwalkers also
make their slow rounds.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A hot, humid night ...
bats dangle
by the riverbank.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A hot, humid day ...
I engage in a staring contest
with a gargoyle.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Glaring
like he’d devour the winter moon,
the gargoyle.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment