Haikus!

haiku.pl

#!/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