Caught in a sudden shower, spring sobs,
while flowers fall everywhere–
even in my heart.
Watch, as the clouds drift high over the budding branches
until dusk descends with nightfall.
The sweet, sad rain falls endlessly
as do my tears on the carpet of flowers.

translated by Jaihiun Kim & Ronald B. Hatch

I am a peach tree blossoming in a deep pit.
Who is there I may turn to and smile?
You are the moon up in the far sky;
Passing, you looked down on me an hour; then went on forever.

A sword with the keenest edge,
Could not cut the stream of water in twain
So that it would cease to flow.
My thought is like the stream; and flows and follows you on forever.

translated by Shigeyoshi Obata

I suppose my thinking
lately
is less muddled
than before
a good sign
no doubt
of future plans
or at least
of planning
for the future
and though there are things
familiar now
in an unfamiliar world
which will be lost
or actually replaced
by other things
which will in turn
become familiar, too
a sort of nostalgia
set in
as I walked my neighborhood
today
and it being slightly overcast
added to this semi-gloom
but here is where
I have set up camp
and all my ships
were burned long ago
home isn’t always
where your heart is
but sometimes your heart
is where you settle down
to rest

they descend
their voices loud shrill
the whole world needs
to hear
their trival chatter
the peace shattered
in this garden
gone the way of
the lowest common denominator
and self-absorption

a garden
she says
for flowers plants
tomatoes perhaps
like the Italians had
when growing up
though she is not Italian
not that that matters
gardens know no nationality
flowers plants
tomatoes even
understand caring hands
like hers
there in the center
of war
a dream
of a garden
flowers plants
tomatoes possibly
and love
when it comes
will grow there
too

How pleasant, oh dear God, how pleasant
To journey on the blue sea
To cast off from shore
Aimless as thought.

I would set sail to the wind
And wander from sea to sea
To find myself one morning
In some deserted bay.

In a harbor large and clean
A harbor in coral isles
Where in the wake of clouds
A golden summer trails.

The languid scent of oleasters
Would fill me there
And the taste of sorrow
Never find that place.

Sparrows would nest in the flowered
Eaves of my dream castle
The evenings would unravel with colors
The days pass in pomengrate gardens.

translated by Ozcan Yalim, William Fielder, and Dionis Coffin Riggs