BUSON

(1715–1783)

PRIESTLY poverty—

he carves a wooden Buddha

through a long cold night

[S.H.]

CLINGING to the bell,

he dozes so peacefully,

this new butterfly

[S.H.]

THE camellia tips,

the remains of last night’s rain

splashing out

[S.H.]

WITH no underrobes,

bare butt suddenly exposed—

a gust of spring wind

[S.H.]

SWEET springtime showers,

and no words can express

how sad it all is

[S.H.]

HEAD pillowed on arm,

such affection for myself!

and this smoky moon

[S.H.]

THE late evening crow

of deep autumn longing

suddenly cries out

[S.H.]

IN a bitter wind

a solitary monk bends

to words cut in stone

[S.H.]

THIS cold winter night,

that old wooden-head Buddha

would make a nice fire

[S.H.]

UTTER aloneness—

another great pleasure

in autumn twilight

[S.H.]

NOBLY, the great priest

deposits his daily stool

in bleak winter fields

[S.H.]