What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.

before the gate -- my walking stick's made a river of melting snow

All the time I pray to Buddha I keep on killing mosquitoes.

Reflected in the dragonfly's eye -- mountains.

In spring rain a pretty girl yawning.

Don't kill!... The fly is asking you To save his life By rubbing his hands together

Face of the spring moon- about twelve years old, I'd say.