Net of Fireflies. Harold Stewart

through the cedar-pillared park

       Are festive lanterns—fireflies in the dark.¹⁰

      —HÔ-Ô

      GONE OUT

      The paper lanterns on the graves are torn

       By heavy dew in the chill autumn dawn.

      —RANKÔ

      "INTO THE SHINING SEA"

      The sunlit dews dry up and disappear;

       This world defiles: they would not linger here.

      —ISSA

      WITHOUT WORDS

      What message would the wild bush-clover utter,

       Gently brushing, brushing against my shutter?

      —SESSHI

      THE LIGHT OF TRANQUILITY

      The frenzied dash and dart of dragonflies

       Is stilled: a crescent moon begins to rise.

      —KIKAKU

      THE FULL MOON

      The new moon showed its silver rim of light;

       I watched and waited since, and lo: tonight!¹¹

      —BASHÔ

      THE GIFT OF EMPTINESS

      Retiring into the shadows, I bestow