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Created March 9, 2022 19:15
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Haikus!
#!/usr/bin/env perl
use strict;
use warnings;
my $haiku;
$/ = "%%\n";
rand($.) < 1 && ($haiku = $_) while <DATA>;
$haiku =~ s/%%//; # Instead of chomp, accounts for extra \n
print "\n$haiku";
__DATA__
Even in Kyoto
hearing the cuckoo's cry--
I long for Kyoto.
Basho
%%
This road--
no one goes down it,
autumn evening.
Basho
%%
The whitebait
opens its black eye
in the net of the law.
Basho
%%
Felling a tree
and seeing the cut end--
tonight's moon.
Basho
%%
Autumn moonlight--
a worm digs silently
into the chestnut.
Basho
%%
A snowy morning--
by myself,
chewing on dried salmon.
Basho
%%
A crow
has settled on a bare branch--
autumn evening.
Basho
%%
On the way to the outhouse--
the white of the moonflower
by torchlight.
Basho
%%
The crane's legs
have gotten shorter
in the spring rain.
Basho
%%
First day of spring--
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.
Basho
%%
Weathered bones
on my mind,
a wind-pierced body.
Basho
%%
In this world
We walk on the roof of hell
Gazing at flowers.
Issa
%%
Misty rain,
can't see Fuji
--interesting!
Basho
%%
As for the hibiscus
on the roadside--
my horse ate it.
Basho
%%
It would melt
in my hand--
the autumn frost.
Basho
%%
I go,
you stay;
two autumns.
Buson
%%
The two plum trees--
I love their blooming!
one early, one later.
Buson
%%
Coolness--
the sound of the bell
as it leaves the bell.
Buson
%%
White blossoms of the pear
and a woman in moonlight
reading a letter.
Buson
%%
Plums in blossom
and the geishas who can't go out
are buying sashes.
Buson
%%
The spring sea rising
and falling,rising
and falling all day.
Buson
%%
How awkward it looks
swimming--
the frog.
Buson
%%
The old pond--
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.
Basho
%%
New Year's Day--
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.
Issa
%%
The snow is melting
and the village is flooded
with children.
Issa
%%
Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.
Issa
%%
Noon,
orioles singing,
the river flows in silence.
Issa
%%
Goes out,
comes back--
the loves of a cat.
Issa
%%
Children imitating cormorants
are even more wonderful
than cormorants.
Issa
%%
Mosquito at my ear--
does it think
I'm deaf?
Issa
%%
What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.
Issa
%%
Deer licking
first frost
from each other's coats.
Issa
%%
Moon, plum blossoms,
this, that,
and the day goes.
Issa
%%
In the white plum blossoms
night to next day
just turning.
Buson
%%
Asked how old he was,
the boy in the new kimono
stretched out all five fingers.
Issa
%%
My cat,
frisking in the scale,
records its weight.
Issa.
%%
I'm going out,
flies, so relax,
make love.
Issa
%%
Even on the smallest islands,
they are tilling the fields,
skylarks singing.
Issa
%%
Seen
through a telescope
ten cents worth of fog.
Issa
%%
January--
in other provinces,
plums blooming.
Issa
%%
For you fleas too
the nights must be long,
they must be lonely.
Issa
%%
Even with insects--
some can sing
some can't.
Issa
%%
Blossoms at night,
and the faces of people
moved by music.
Issa
%%
If the times were good,
I'd ask one more of you to join me,
flies.
Issa
%%
Sick on a journey,
my dreams wander
the withered fields.
Basho
%%
All the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes.
Issa
%%
The moon and the flowers,
forty-nine years,
walking around, wasting time.
Issa
%%
Full moon;
my ramshackle hut
is what it is.
Issa
%%
Even a fleabite,
when she's young,
is beautiful.
Issa
%%
One human being,
one fly,
in a large room.
Issa
%%
What good luck!
Bitten by
this year's mosquitoes too.
Issa
%%
The toad! It looks like
it could belch
a cloud.
Issa
%%
Red morning sky,
snail;
are you glad of it?
Issa
%%
The bedbugs
scatter as I clean,
parents and children.
Issa
%%
Napped half the day;
no one
punished me!
Issa
%%
In the white plum blossoms
night to next day
just turning.
Buson
%%
She's put the child to sleep
and now she washes clothes
under the summer moon.
Issa
%%
Not yet become a Buddha,
this ancient pine tree,
dreaming.
Issa
%%
In spring rain
a pretty girl
yawning.
Issa
%%
Fom the end of the nose
of the Buddha on the moor
hang icicles.
Issa
%%
Washing the saucepans--
the moon glows on her hands
in the shallow river.
Issa
%%
Not very anxious
to bloom,
my plum tree.
Issa
%%
Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.
Issa
%%
Zealous flea,
you're about to be a Buddha
by my hand.
Issa
%%
Fleas in my hut,
it's my fault
you look so skinny.
Issa
%%
Another year gone--
hat in my hand,
sandals on my feet.
Basho
%%
Deep autumn--
my neighbor,
how does he live, I wonder?
Basho
%%
Many nights on the road
and not dead yet--
the end of autumn.
Basho
%%
A bee
staggers out
of the peony.
Basho
%%
Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold
Basho
%%
Midfield,
attached to nothing,
the skylark singing.
Basho
%%
Clear water--
a tiny crab
crawling up my leg.
Basho
%%
Sickly,
but somehow the chrysanthemum
is budding.
Basho
%%
A petal shower
of mountain roses,
and the sound of the rapids.
Basho
%%
I don't know
which tree it comes from,
that fragrance.
Basho
%%
The jars of octopus--
brief dreams
under the summer moon.
Basho
%%
Exciting at first,
then sad,
watching the cormorant-fishing.
Basho
%%
Not this human sadness,
cuckoo,
but your solitary cry.
Basho
%%
Seeing people off,
being seen off--
autumn in Kiso.
Basho
%%
It's not like anything
they compare it to--
the summer moon.
Basho
%%
From all these trees,
in the salads, the soup, everywhere,
cherry blossoms fall.
Basho
%%
No talent
and no sin,
a winter day.
Issa
%%
The cuckoo sings
to me, to the mountain,
to me, to the mountain.
Issa
%%
A poor box;
four or five pennies,
evening rain.
Issa
%%
The fat priest--
edging out
while he reads the last prayer.
Issa
%%
Writing shit about new snow
for the rich
is not art.
Issa
%%
From now on,
it's all clear profit,
every sky.
Issa
%%
Mother I never knew,
every time I see the ocean,
every time--
Issa
%%
The snail gets up
and goes to bed
with very little fuss.
Issa
%%
The world of dew
is the world of dew.
And yet, and yet--
Issa
%%
Not knowing
it's a tub they're in,
the fish cooling at the gate.
Issa
%%
With my father
I would watch dawn
over green fields.
Issa
%%
Windy fall--
these are the scarlet flowers
she liked to pick.
Issa
%%
Here,
I'm here--
the snow falling.
Issa
%%
This first fallen snow
is barely enough to bend
the jonquil leaves
Basho
%%
Traveling this high
mountain trail, delighted
by violets
Basho
%%
A solitary
crow on a bare branch--
autumn evening
Basho
%%
Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die
Basho
%%
Just beyond the gate,
a neat yellow hole--
someone pissed in the snow
Issa
%%
People working fields,
from my deepest heart, I bow.
Now a little nap.
Issa
%%
Brilliant moon,
is it true that you too
must pass in a hurry
Issa
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