I love haiku. I especially love haiku translations that capture the sense of the original: short, sweet and to the point.
Basho
Summer grasses:
all that remains of great soldiers’
imperial dreamsTraveling this high
mountain trail, delightedby violetsThe old pond,
A frog jumps in:
Plop!
Issa
A world of dew,
and within every dewdrop
a world of struggle
Cherry blossom shade
no one an utter
strangerSpring breeze–
a mouse licking up
Sumida River
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About the Author
You want to know about Dana Hunter, then, do you? I'm a science blogger, SF writer, compleat geology addict, Gnu Atheist, and owner of a - excuse me, owned by a homicidal felid. I loves me some Doctor Who and Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. Sums me up. I'm a Midwest-born Southwesterner transplanted to the Pacific Northwest, which should explain some personality quirks, the tendency to sprinkle Spanish around, and why I'll subject you to some real jawbreakers in the place names department. My cobloggers, Karen Locke, Jacob and Steamforged, and I are delighted to be your cantineras y cantinero. Join us for una tequila. And feel free to follow @dhunterauthor on Twitter. Salud!
:)
1 comment
Chris
May 1, 2009 at 5:06 am (UTC -7) Link to this comment
A NIGHT MOORING NEAR MAPLE BRIDGEWhile I watch the moon go down, a crow caws through the frost;Under the shadows of the maple-trees a fisherman moves with his torch;And I hear, from beyond Su-chou, from the temple on Cold Mountain,Ringing for me, here in my boat, the midnight bell.-Chang Chi (Witter Bynner trans.)