coriannemerit

Journey's end - still alive, this autumn evening.

Lips too chilled for prattle - autumn wind.

Come, let's go snow-viewing till we're buried.

Come, see real flowers of this painful world.

Skylark sings all day, and day not long enough.

Wake, butterfly - it's late, we've miles to go together.

First winter rain - I plod on, Traveller, my name.

Faceless - bones scattered in the field, wind cuts my flesh.

Darkening waves - cry of wild ducks, faintly white.

Yellow rose petals thunder - a waterfall.

On the dead limb squats a crow - autumn night.

Aged - eating laver, my teeth grind sand.

Cold white azalea - lone nun under thatched roof.

Booze on blossoms - dark rice, white sake.

If I'd the knack I'd sing like cherry flakes falling.

Do not forget the plum, blooming in the thicket.

Monks' feet clomping through icy dark, drawing sweet water.