Mosquito at my ear—

does he think

I’m deaf?

Even with insects—

some can sing,

some can’t.

All the time I pray to Buddha

I keep on

killing mosquitoes.

O snail

Climb Mount Fuji,

But slowly, slowly!

Everything I touch

with tenderness, alas,

pricks like a bramble.

Trusting the Buddha, good and bad,

I bid farewell

To the departing year.

On a branch

floating downriver

a cricket, singing.