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Four Poems


To be the first one there
he wades the shallows secretly
under the summer moon


Evening breeze caresses
scrawny legs
on the summer mat


The morning dewó
a hair of mine has fallen
it has not yet known frost


One step outside the gate
and I too am a traveller
in the autumn evening

    (Text of the poems in transliterated Japanese)

Yosa Buson

Collected Haiku of Yosa Buson
Copper Canyon Press

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