Haiku

[Arbushi]

megjithese vone, tani kam zbuluar stilin apo ca dreqin eshte Haiku edhe me pelqen teper.


Basho -- (se mos kujtoni se eshte shqiptar nga pogradeci me:))

Waking in the night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing.

It has rained enough
to turn the stubble on the field
black.

Winter rain
falls on the cow-shed;
a cock crows.

The leeks
newly washed white,-
how cold it is!

The sea darkens;
the voices of the wild ducks
are faintly white.

Ill on a journey;
my dreams wander
over a withered moor.

[Arbushi]

Waterjar cracks:
I lie awake
This icy night.


Lightning:
Heron's cry
Stabs the darkness


Sick on a journey:
Over parched fields
Dreams wander on.

[liliella]

kete e ka shkruar vellackoja per nje konkurs qe u zhvillua ne shkolle.



running
hot sand
between your toes.

[nimf]

ahhh c'me kaloi nje thike..

po haiku eshte stil poezie. japonezet jane ata qe njihen per fllimin edhe perfeksionimin e ketij stili.

shkrimtaret me te njohur jane: Basho, Buson, Shiki, Saigyo, edhe i preferuari im Issa.

me poshte jane disa nga ato qe me kane lene me shume mbresa.

issa

Thus spring begins: old
stupidities repeated,
new errs invented

Till your clothes can barely be
seen in the distance, my love,
I keep looking back at your house


Just beyond the gate,
a neat yellow hole
someone pissed in the snow

Brilliant moon,
is it true that you too
must pass in a hurry

This world of dew
is only a world of dew -
and yet

Under this bright moon
I sit like an old buddha
knees spread wide

In my hidden house,
no teeth left in the mouth,
but good luck abounds

Now we are leaving,
the butterflies can make love
to their hearts' desire

The blossoming plum!
Today all the fires of hell
remain empty

After a long nap,
the cat yawns, rises, and goes out
looking for love

The vanity of men
they would like to retain
this passing winter moon

cuckoo--
is this rain falling
only on me?

te tjera vijojne

[nimf]

The snow having melted,
the village
is full of children.


My grumbling wife -
if only she were here!
This moon tonight...


Mother, I weep
for you as I watch the sea
each time I watch the sea

A world of dew,
and within every dewdrop
a world of struggle

Give me a homeland,
and a passionate woman,
and a winter alone

So many flea bites,
but on her lovely young skin
they are beautiful


Just to say the word
home, that one word alone,
so pleasantly cool


How comfortable
my summer cotton robe
when drenched with sweat


In this mountain village,
shining in my soup bowl,
the bright moon arrives


in the tree's shade
butterfly and me
friends in a previous life