After the Gentle Poet Kobayashi Issa

New Year’s morning—
everything is in blossom!
   I feel about average.

   A huge frog and I 
 staring at each other,
   neither of us moves. 

  This moth saw brightness
in a woman’s chamber—
   burned to a crisp.

   Asked how old he was
the boy in the new kimono
   stretched out all five fingers.

   Blossoms at night,
like people
   moved by music

   Napped half the day;
no one
   punished me!

Fiftieth birthday:

   From now on,
It’s all clear profit
   every sky.

   Don’t worry, spiders,
I keep house
   casually.

  These sea slugs,
they just don’t seem
  Japanese.

Hell:

   Bright autumn moon;
pond snails crying
   in the saucepan.

--Robert Hass (1941- ), American poet and US Poet Laureate 1995-1997, from Field Guide, 1973.