Natsume Soseki
Over the wintry
forest, winds howl in rage
with no leaves to blow.
The crow has flown away
swaying in the evening sun,
a leafless tree.
Bitter winter wind --
blowing now
yet no leaves to drop.
Persimmon leaves:
On each,
Moonlight.
A crow takes off, leaving
The winter tree shaking
In the evening sun.
The moon is up:
Plum blossom shadows
Fall on my pillow
Again I’m alive!
The height of the sky,
A red dragonfly.
Don’t forget, sweet persimmon,
Your younger days when
You were still bitter.
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