Haiga Archive

Whiter, whiter than
the stones of Stone Mountain—
the autumnal wind

Alas for mortality!
underneath the helmet
a grasshopper

What a charming name!
The wind blows through little pines,
Clover and susuki

Redly, redly
The sun shines heartlessly, but
the wind is autumnal

The cool of autumn—
every hand start peeling
melons and eggplants!

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.