I sit and watch the evening moon rise
on full-moon night
behind a tree like a yellow bloom
or a cool fire-balloon
moving slowly up the night air
to pay homage to the Sacred Hair
Relic of Buddha in paradise.
There’s the Old Man pounding rice
and beside him the Hare,
So no Basho loneliness for me there
but a quiet joy
in the brightening sky
as the moon climbs higher
and it is time to retire.
I get up early from a short night’s rest
to greet the moon now in the west
at its fairest
less than an hour before it sets.
The morning moon breathes
So much tranquility and peace
yet brings a light touch of the sense
of our own evanescence.
we leave to itself the morning moon.