poems from the japanese

the mists rise over

the still pools at asuka

memory does not

pass away so easily

when i went out

in the spring meadows

to gather violets

i enjoyed myself

so much that i stayed all night

though the purity

of the moonlight has silenced

both nightingale and cricket

the cuckoo alone

sings all the white night

i waited for my lover

until i could hear

in the night the oars of the boat

crossing the river of heaven

in a gust of wind the white dew

on the autumn grass

scatters like a broken necklace