Haiga Archive

Shake your tomb, reply!
my voice that weeps for you
is the autumn wind

Sweet-smelling rice fields!
to our right as we push through,
The Ariso Sea.

Under the same roof
prostitutes were sleeping—
the moon and clover.

Turbulent the sea—
across to Sado stretches
The Milky Way.

The seventh month—
even the sixth does not seem,
like a usual night.

Tide-crossing—
the crane’s long legs are wetted
how cool the sea is!

Kisakata—
Seishi sleeping in the rain,
wet mimosa blossoms.