Some guest poets this late night in February; it's cold, but I just turned on the heater and I can't sleep

Curled on the couch with a root beer, my laptop, and a volume of R. H. Blythe's haiku translations:


In every village,
Sleep grows deeper;
Falling water.

-Buson


The puppy that doesn't know
That autumn has come
Is a Buddha.

-Issa


A fishing village;
Dancing under the moon
To the smell of raw fish.

-Shiki


Autumn mosquitos
Bite me,
Prepared for death.

-Shiki


The leeks
Newly washed white,-
How cold it is!

-Basho


The old man of the temple,
Splitting wood
In the winter moonlight.

-Buson


To wake, alive, in this world,
What happiness!
Winter rain.

-Shoha


It has rained enough
To turn the stubble in the field
Black.

-Basho


Winter rain;
A mouse runs
Over the koto.

-Buson


The straight hole
Made by pissing
In the snow outside the door.

-Issa


Denied lodging,-
The lights from a row of houses
In the snow.

-Buson