Best Husking Poems

Matsuo Basho New Haiku Translations

Air ballet:
twin butterflies, twice white,
meet, match & mate
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 

Denied transformation
into a butterfly,
autumn worsens for the worm
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 

Dusk-gliding swallow,
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers!
—Matsuo Basho, loose...

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I live in bliss, Ising with thee
In faith and hope I sing and pray
When day comes with dew on the lea
In faith and hope I sing and pray

Oft in prayers I lift my palms
In winter`s cold or summer`s heat
Under shades I lift my voice in...

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in meadows more verdant than evergreen
there is but an Orphic lyre that tingles
in dream’s delight,
haunting, husking, heaving
the songs my soul cannot reach
except in interludes of moonlight’s chant,

as the nearness of grasses twirl my hair
dancing with inner wolves
in velvet chorus...not of moaning trespasses
but for now,
if only...

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They crept in howling darkness,

With guns, machetes and 
bombs,

Bringing down our walls,

Our gate, the center could not 
hold.



They whispered in thundering 
tones,

Spraying their bullets at will,

First on our mai guard,

and then, on the little dog that 
barked.



Fears rained on our roofs,

We were awakened from a...

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I see brown leaves drooping, burn marks in the bark,
the populated gala, ignorant in the park.
...With obliviousness, boots are crushing-
the dreaming leaves that died before.

Wild roots, a strewn abroad,
rot from tip to base, a sad sad song.
...And the core
it's weeping, a noise severe that ears...

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The sun's rise,
The bird's chirp so precise.
The cock's clarion,
The drowsy puppies union.
The rustling of the trees,
The humming of the bees.
The tinkle of the bells.
The morning of the shell
The husking of the corn,
The cry of the new born,
The joy of the flowers,
The dew drops showers.
The fluttering...

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ZEN DEATH HAIKU VI

These are my modern English translations of Japanese Zen Death Haiku.

Both victor and vanquished are dewdrops:
flashes of light
briefly illuminating the void.
—Ouchi Yoaka, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

Cooling the pitiless sun's
bright red flames: 
autumn wind.
—Matsuo Basho, loose...

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I use to hike through Flankers’ un-cobbled street
                       With easel and canvas hawking my mind

Sketching the apiary’s tenement
 Dull gray boxes densely scattered

...

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You might be from a small midwestern town
If you know what husking corn means
You might be from Iowa
If your town was full of relatives

You might be from Nebraska
If you have heard the term huskers
You might be from Illinois
If you know a dairy cow from other...

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