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In the thicket's shadea woman by herselfsinging the rice-planting song
Even on the smallest islands,they are tilling the fields,skylarks singing
That pretty girl—munching and rustlingthe wrapped-up rice cake
Summer night—even the starsare whispering to each other
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
The world of dew is, yes,a world of dew,but even so
Not knowingit's a tub they're inthe fish cooling at the gate
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
These sea slugs -they just don't
Japanese
Japanese
The crowwalks along thereas if it were tilling the field
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
No doubt about it,the mountain cuckoois a crybaby
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
The man pulling radishespointed my waywith a radish
It once happenedthat a child was spared punishmentthrough earnest solicitation
My dear old village, every memory of home pierces like a thorn
Last time,
I think,
I'll brush the fliesfrom my father's face
Translated by Robert Hass
I think,
I'll brush the fliesfrom my father's face
Translated by Robert Hass
Not very anxiousto bloom,my plum tree
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
New Year's Day—everything is in blossom
I feel about average
I feel about average
Face of the spring moon—about twelve years old,
I'd say
I'd say
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