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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
The crowwalks along thereas if it were tilling the field
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
Not very anxiousto bloom,my plum tree
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
Not knowingit's a tub they're inthe fish cooling at the gate
Translated by Robert Hass
Translated by Robert Hass
That pretty girl—munching and rustlingthe wrapped-up rice cake
The man pulling radishespointed my waywith a radish
New Year's Day—everything is in blossom
I feel about average
I feel about average
It once happenedthat a child was spared punishmentthrough earnest solicitation
In the thicket's shadea woman by herselfsinging the rice-planting song
These sea slugs -they just don't
Japanese
Japanese
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