“Employ everyday speech to transcend everyday speech,” wrote Yosa Buson (1716-1784), the Japanese poet and painter who was a disciple of the haiku master Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694), and a striking writer himself. Today, I realized that in the seven years I’ve had this blog, I’ve yet to post the transcendent simplicity of haiku. So let’s amend that. Here are a few Buson haikus from the wonderful Tavern Books collection.
In winter rain
every place
looks like its past.
–
In the haze of the moon
arm my only pillow
this sudden fondness for my life
–
Some stars
although it’s not yet dark shining
over scarred fields
–
Deer in the rain
three cries
then nothing
–
Weary old willows
how long the road will be
when you are lost from sight
_
translated by Franz Wright
live in the layers 