ag ól tae
gan siúcra -
níl puinn difríochta ann
cacann an gealbhan
bunoscionn -
uch! m'inchinn is uibheacha
ag breathnú thar mo ghualainn dom
mo thiarpa clúdaithe
le bláthanna silíní
ní heol dom ainmneacha
na mbláthanna - anois
agus an gairdín imithe
boiseog don mhuiscít
níor aimsíos í
cad a thug orm é sin a dhéanamh?
ag léamh haiku
táim buartha
ag tnúth leis an ní Gan Ainm
ar an bpóirse
is gan orm ach mo bhrístín
soilse cairteacha faoin mbáisteach
bliain eile
imithe - an domhan
mar a bhí
an chéad rud a lorgaíos
im sheanghairdín -
an crann silíní
mo sheandeasc:
an chéad rud a lorgaíos
sa tigh
luath-dhialann liom:
an chéad rud a d'aimsíos
im sheandeasc
taibhse mo mháthar:
an chéad rud a dtáinig mé air
sa seomra suite
stopas dom bhearradh féin
d'fhan na súile sin a d'fhéach orm
sa scáthán
gealt
ag teacht amach as scannánlann:
an tsráid am lóin
im luí ar mo thaobh
san fholús:
an anáil im shrón
ar an gcúigiú hurlár déag
cognaíonn gadhar cnámh -
scréach na dtacsaithe
Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
No difference.
The sparrow shits
upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs
Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.Y.
Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.
Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.
I slapped the mosquito
and missed.
What made me do that?
Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.
A frog floating
in the drugstore jar:
summer rain on grey pavements.
(after Shiki)
On the porch
in my shorts;
auto lights in the rain.
Another year
has past-the world
is no different.
The first thing I looked for
in my old garden was
The Cherry Tree.
My old desk:
the first thing I looked for
in my house.
My early journal:
the first thing I found
in my old desk.
My mother's ghost:
the first thing I found
in the living room.
I quit shaving
but the eyes that glanced at me
remained in the mirror.
The madman
emerges from the movies:
the street at lunchtime.
Cities of boys
are in their graves,
and in this town...
Lying on my side
in the void:
the breath in my nose.
On the fifteenth floor
the dog chews a bone-
Screech of taxicabs.
A hardon in New York,
a boy
in San Fransisco.
The moon over the roof,
worms in the garden.
I rent this house.
[Haiku composed in the backyard cottage at 1624 Milvia Street, Berkeley 1955, while reading R.H. Blyth's 4 volumes, "Haiku."]
