The fallen leaves have sunk and settled
Upon a rock below the water.

The snow has taken all the fields
And hills, and nothing has been left.

What a bright moonlit night! An owl
Took refuge in the wayside shrine.

A single leaf, in fluttering way —
Alas! a single leaf, in fluttering way,
Floats down the wind to-day.

Oh, cuckoo, did you cry to drive away
My mother who was coming in my dream?

The folk of a tenement-house
Locked up their rooms and joined in a dance.

Perchance the cricket is bemoaning
Her husband eaten by a cat.

The water-melons alone sit serene,
Quite unaware of last night's storm.

What a bright harvest moon!
My shadow walks home with me.

In my hut, this New Year time, there's nothing,
Which means that in it there is everything.