Kasen Eleven Horsemen

Shiki, Flores, Fields, Nose and Umeda
January 1-21, 2005

eleven horsemen
riding through a night of swirling snow:

none looks to left or right

a dozen of tin soldiers
lining up on the oak shelf

rosy cheeks
under cherry blossoms
the first day in primary school

spring storm outside
what my college life will be

a hazy vernal moon
casting dim light
on hushed Nara temples

tolls to bury bygones
what anew will they bring in?

out of a nunnery
in a surrey with the fringe
June in England

my debut to the ball
whofll try glass slippers on me?

the days are getting short;
I stay alone counting
the time left for me

three two one and here we go
let me see what space is like

a jet contrail
tears blue sky in halves,
me, on the sunbaked beach

a small fishing port at noon
old men shooting the breeze

after many a stormy night
a morning calm and peaceful;

leaves turn to yellow
crows hurry home

the moon feigns coolness
envying changing dresses
of big sister Earth

rainy mountains, dark and gray,
will soon be capped in white

spring wind blows
through towns and fields,

unrolling fragrant carpets of flowers

kids pose for daddysf cameras
on commencement day

a butterfly
fresh from its cocoon
on a clear day

frogs listen to bush warblers' songs
while croaking in low tone

while arguing
what to eat for lunch
I lost my wife in the crowd

quo vadis Domine
solitude in the plaza

my room is warm enough
with faint winter sunlight
where else would I go?

remember the days you were

buried in the avalanche

mi amor...
cante flamenco on the stage
a night in Sevilla

greedy lover last night,
you left me alone in cold bed!

a call from my daughter
Dad, I want you to meet someone,
it stunned me

beyond the emerald green
a long line of whitecaps

the moon and cosmoses
facing each other
in quiet rivalry

on the table is a piece of Thanksgiving turkey,
no-one to share

smoke floating in rain
from a stall at Shimbashi
a night in autumn

it's easy to be happy
just come here and drink sake

they say
therefs no place like home,
I know itfs damn right, but...

how soothing is the spring wind
for a bit tipsy stroller

crowded tunnel pink and white
on a riverbank
spring in

old friends parted wishing

each other's happy returns of spring

come again next morning
embracing a lute, if you like
(Li Po)