|
***
***
Fallen sick on a joyrey,
In dreams I run wildly
Over a withered moor.
***
An old poun!
A frog jumps in
The sound of water.
***
The first soft snow!
Enough to bend the leaves
Off the jonguil low.
***
In the cicada`s cry
No sign can foretel
How soon it must die.
***
Covered with the flowers,
Instantly I`d like to die
In his drem of ours.
***
No sky
No earth- but still
Snow flakes fall.
***
In my old home
which I forsock,the cherries
are in bloom.
***
For love and for hate
I swat a fly and offer it
to an ant.
***
Nigh,and the moon!
My neighbor,playing on his flyte
out of tune!
***
|
