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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.55

Lips too chilled for prattle - autumn wind.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.52

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.48

Come, see real flowers of this painful world.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.47

Skylark sings all day, and day not long enough.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.45

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.38

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.34

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.31

Darkening waves - cry of wild ducks, faintly white.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.30

Yellow rose petals thunder - a waterfall.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.28

On the dead limb squats a crow - autumn night.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.26

Aged - eating laver, my teeth grind sand.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.25

Cold white azalea - lone nun under thatched roof.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.22

Booze on blossoms - dark rice, white sake.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.19

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.17

Do not forget the plum, blooming in the thicket.

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.13

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

Matsuo Bashō, Lips too chilled, p.7

coriannemerit