Japanese Miles
He goes at walking pace,
travels Japanese miles,
one of which equals
two British miles
Through mists
ice and snow of the high altitude
he climbs Mount Gisson
with a sacred rope
of white paper noosed round his neck
At the summit
he sleeps
on a bed of bamboo leaves
At Support-yourself-on-a-stick Pass
he wishes he had a horse
At Yoshima
Basho is so overwhelmed
by the beauty of the cherry blossom
and the famous cherry blossom haiku
of earlier poets
he cannot write one line,
scribe to the world though he is
How shall a poet write?
In an instant,
like a woodcutter felling a tree
Following no itinerary
he crosses the ruins
of an ancient dog-shooting ground
On the road to Senju
he tells the band of concubines
who asks him for alms
Trust in the Lord Buddha
gives them zilch cash
Moon-pilgrim,
he walks for over a thousand miles
uplands and lowlands
villages and shrines
mountains north of Edo
along the shores of the Sea of Japan
in all weathers
gathering up tomorrow’s sky to keep it safe
and talking to ghosts of many poets
(the walk is a kind of séance)
First cold Winter Rain
even the monkey seems to want
a tiny raincoat