The Classic Tradition of Haiku: An Anthology (Dover Thrift Editions: Poetry)

by Faubion Bowers

Despite some snow the base of hills spreads with haze the twilight scene

However low one may be it is in holding oneself in sway that is imperative

If only noiseless they would go, The herons flying by Were but a line of snow Across the sky

A fallen blossom returning to the bough, I thought — But no, a butterfly.

Green willows Paint eyebrows on the face of the cliff

For all alike the cause of noontime napping is the summer moon

My love of night.

No, no, not even the cherry blooms, can equal the moon of tonight.

Friggin' love it.

Do the yellow-rose petals Tremble and fall At the rapid’s roar?