We present this work in honor of Greenery Day.

When spring escapes
freed from being huddled in winter’s sleep,
the birds that had been stilled
burst into song.
The buds that had been hidden
burst into flower.
The mountains are so thickly forested
that we cannot reach the flowers
and the flowers are so tangled with vines
that we cannot pick them.
When the maple leaves turn scarlet
on the autumn hills,
it is easy to gather them
and enjoy them.
We sigh over the green leaves
but leave them as they are.
That is my only regret–
so I prefer the autumn hills.

Translation by Kenneth Rexroth and Ikuko Atsumi

We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Mountain Day.

To speed my brother
Parting for Yamato,
In the deep of night I stood
Till wet with the dew of dawn.
The lonely autumn mountains
Are hard to pass over
Even when two go together-
How does my brother cross them all alone!

We present this work in honor of the 1,320th anniversary of the poet’s death.

Oh, the autumn foliage
Of the hill of Kamioka!
My good Lord and Sovereign
Would see it in the evening
And ask of it in the morning.
On that very hill from afar
I gaze, wondering
If he sees it today,
Or asks of it tomorrow.
Sadness I feel at eve,
And heart-rending grief at morn –
The sleeves of my coarse-cloth robe
Are never for a moment dry.

We present this work in honor of Autumnal Equinox Day.

From Nigitatsu
Would we set sail, and
Did await the moon, but
With the tides against us
Now must we go a’rowing!

Translation by Thomas McAuley