‘Tis the day to care for each other and to join hands
Friendship matters, love matters
Flowers matter too, brothers and sisters
Please do not be too mad
Because the sky is not blue
Let’s enjoy the morning dew
Please do not be too sad
Let’s enjoy the cold sunny weather
There’s snow here and there, but at the corner
Is spring with fresh air and a bundle of flowers
Friendship matters, love matters
Throughout the coldest days of the mighty winter
Think of a sweet spring and dream of a mild summer
During the harshest hours of the wintry night
Think of flowers and dream of a pleasant sunlight.
Season comes, remains a bit and then flees
Life goes through a circular event like the bees
Like the moonbeams dancing around Mother Earth
In order to charm, embrace and kiss her to death.
For crying out loud
Due to the outcome
I was not particularly proud
For more than two centuries, election days go and come
At a similar season, every four years
This time, there were plenty of wows and tears
Of disappointment, heartbreak, anger, anxiety and sadness
And the other half was full of glee or happiness
Such is life. Politics is a dirty and unpredictable animal
No, America did not die. Things are normal
We’re still talking about immigration, liberty
Freedom of speech, and of course the economy
These are my modern English translations of haiku about plum blossoms, plums and plum trees. In Japanese poetry the plum ("ume") is associated with the beginning of spring and good fortune; plum trees were often planted facing northeast to ward off bad luck. Plum blossoms are widely loved and appreciated by the Japanese people; they symbolize refinement, purity, nobility and the remembrance of love.
Picking autumn plums
my wrinkled hands
once again grow fragrant
― Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Clinging
to the plum tree:
Winter came early:
the driving snows,
the delicate frosts
that crystallize
all we forget
or refuse to know,
all we regret
that makes us wise.
Spring was delayed:
the nubile rose,
the tentative sun,
the wind’s soft sighs,
all we omit
or refuse to show,
whatever we shield
behind guarded eyes.
Originally published by Borderless Journal (Singapore)
Ballade of the Bicameral Camel
by Michael R. Burch
This is a sonnet despite the nonstandard stanza breaks. It was inspired by Dylan Thomas's poem "The force that through the green fuse drives the flower."
Spring Was Delayed
by Michael R. Burch
Winter came early:
the driving snows,
the delicate frosts
that crystallize
all we forget
or refuse to know,
all we regret
that makes us wise.
Spring was delayed:
the nubile rose,
the tentative sun,
the wind’s soft sighs,
all we omit
or refuse to show,
whatever we shield
behind guarded eyes.
Originally published by Borderless Journal
***
Drippings
by Michael R. Burch
These are original haiku written by Michael R. Burch, many of them under the influence of the Oriental masters of the form.
Dark-bosomed clouds
pregnant with heavy thunder ...
the water breaks
—Michael R. Burch
***
Silver
by Michael R. Burch
Florence, rejoice! For thou o'er land and sea
So spread'st thy pinions that the fame of thee
Hath reached no less into the depths of Hell.
So noble were the five I found to dwell
Therein -- thy sons -- whence shame accrues to me
And no great praise is thine; but if it be
That truth unveil in dreamings before dawn,
Then is the vengeful hour not far withdrawn
When Prato shall exult within her walls
To see thy suffering. Whate'er befalls,
Let it come soon, since come it must, for later,