Michael Burch Poet Haiku

Issa translations 5

The dragonfly
works the late shift:
night fishing.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Having peeled off your skin,
snake,
are you any cooler?
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Left in Buddha’s lap,
a snake’s
discarded garment.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

From the great bronze Buddha’s
nose
morning mist emerges.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

On the great bronze Buddha’s
solemn nose,
a fart bug.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Chestnuts falling:
even the stone Buddha
needs an umbrella hat!
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A sparrow chirps
in his lap:
the snowbound Buddha.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Boars and bears
my only neighbors:
winter seclusion.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My sinful dog
my sole companion:
winter seclusion.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

No good deeds
but unable to sin:
winter seclusion.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The winter houseguest
I spared, a little fly,
my cat murdered.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eyeing the potato
baking on the banked fire,
a criminal crow.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Even the bullfrog
gapes
at brilliant fireflies.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why do you
play with fire,
tiger moth?
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mosquitoes 
so thick
I exhale them.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Do you also
mourn your mother,
cicada?
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Even the insects
huddle at the window:
a cold night.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My evicted fleas
have re-made me their landlord:
autumn rain.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Autumn cacophony:
the cicadas’ grumblings
grow louder.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

“It’s cold,”
the cicadas’ complaints
have begun.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How cold?
My only hand towel
frozen stiff.
—Kobayashi Issa, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

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