I lie in listless sleep,
yet my mind soars,
and though I cannot weep
within I roar
with restless grief, that lief
existence brief
transcends this dreary dream
to drift about this broken world unseen.

Observe the trav'lling wind's
perpetual mourn,
grey clouds of joyless kind
by it are drawn
so that the sun conspires
against desire
to hide his healing flame
that I may dwell within his shade and shame.

In Sommersby of Lincolnshire,
On sixth of August, in the year
Of eighteen O nine, there appear'd,
To be in history rever'd,
A gift to poetry's bouquet.
To English middle-class was born
The future Baron Tennyson,
Who was to flower, and become
The poet Laureate.

A gem of Japan
from Matsuyama City,
shining in Tokyo
rejected in politics,
triumphant as a writer

Each year when summer heat abates
and frost turns forests red and gold
I know a familiar friend awaits,
a white haired guy who's beyond old.

He often joins me in some task,
like feeding cows or cutting wood,
he's there regardless if I ask.
Sometimes we walk the woods and brood.

Or we might sit before a warm hearth fire
and talk about the simple life,
the peace which all just men desire,
the precious love of a good wife.

STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

original

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
I love not hollowed cheek or faded eye:
Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!
Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live;
Ask me no more.

The original

The Bright Moon

The silver moon stands,
alone in the night sky
as clouds drift away

-------------------------------------------------------------

Original :-

The bright moon
I wonder where the clouds
are flying off to

Masaoka Shiki