We present this work in honor of the Vernal Equinox.

Japanese
1149 – 1201
Deep within the mountains
That Spring has come remains unknown;
On my pinewood door,
Slowly strike
Droplets of snowmelt.
We present this work in honor of the Vernal Equinox.

Deep within the mountains
That Spring has come remains unknown;
On my pinewood door,
Slowly strike
Droplets of snowmelt.
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, National Foundation Day.

skylark in the heavens…
what do you think
of the boundless sky?
We present this work in honor of the poet’s 155th birthday.

Over the wintry
forest, winds howl in rage
with no leaves to blow.
We present this work in honor of the 1,320th anniversary of the poet’s death.

From tomorrow ever
Shall I regard as brother
The twin-peaked mountain of Futagami-
I, daughter of man!
I would break off the branch
Of the flowering staggerbush
Growing on the rocky shore;
But no one says he lives
To whom I would show it!
We present this work in honor of the poet’s 90th birthday.

Mother,
Why is the river laughing?
Why, because the sun is tickling the river
Mother,
Why is the river singing?
Because the skylark praised the river’s voice
Mother,
Why is the river cold?
It remembers being once loved by the snow.
Mother,
How old is the river?
It’s the same age as the forever young
springtime.
Mother,
Why does the river never rest?
Well, you see it’s because the mother sea
Is waiting for the river to come home.

On his way to leave the world, a man
Comes to rest
Beneath the trees
But he finds no shade
For every Autumn leaf has fallen.
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Labor Thanksgiving Day.

In the thicket’s shade
a woman by herself
singing the rice-planting song.
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Culture Day.

Chilling autumn rains
curtain Mount Fuji, then make it
more beautiful to see
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Autumnal Equinox Day.

without stopping my breath
producing haikai poems
so many poem arrows!

The spring has passed
And the summer come again
For the silk-white robes
So they say, are spread to dry
On Mount Kaguyama